The Brain Dump

What's the difference between a vice presidential candidate and a pit bull?

The pit bull has a longer leash.

I sit here in my living room, watching the First Lady of our country address the assembled Republicans, and I begin to wonder. To be fair, I began wondering last week, while watching the Democratic National Convention. I wondered when Michelle Obama spoke. I wondered when Hilary did the same. Biden, Bill, even Barack Obama--they all made me wonder if any of this really makes a difference. And--if it does--then why?

Better articulated: My parents are watching (did watch) the convention(s) on CNN. They are . . . kinda liberal, though living in Texas, or perhaps simply their aging worldviews, have lent their political affiliations a certain conservative tang. They watch CNN because it comes in HD.

Regardless, I watch it with them and on the television Wolf Blitzer (beard blazing) and Anderson Cooper and everyone else in the biz are explaining to me what the Republicans have to do tonight. They told me what the Democrats had to do, too. The Republicans just have to establish the tone of their convention. They just have to respect George W. while politely distancing McCain from his administration. They just have to keep the enthusiasm for Sarah Palin going. They just have to.

The way they do this is by speaking. The Democrats and the Republicans gather their best speech writers and their best speech speakers and they start telling stories, weaving a Grand American Narrative. Declarative sentences charge forth. Tropes march in strict formation. Standing ovations abound. Each convention tells its own story about the America that came before us, the America that we have today, the America we need tomorrow. At the end, everyone claps and cheers and hugs. Then CNN tells us how they did. Then the other side responds.

I wonder how any of this can matter as much as Wolf and Anderson say it does. How can either of the political parties accomplish anything when all they are doing is telling a story? Make no mistake: neither story is true. Both are simply idyllic visions of a Democratic or Republican Utopia. I wonder . . . I wonder how so much talk can make any difference.

But that's not the really amazing thing. The really amazing thing is that these stories do make a difference. They really do. They change people's minds and they rile people up and they keep the Grand American Political Machine chugging right along. Ask yourself, though--when all of this is over--what really changed? Did it really acquaint you with what any of these politicians are actually like, what they actually believe, how they'll actually act (how they have acted) in office? Or did it just give you a better story to tell?

Granted, I would be lying if I didn't admit that I, myself, am affected by these stories. My fingers tingle and my heart goes aflutter when one of these speakers starts a rhetorical tumbling routine and then sticks the landing. I do, after all, respect a well-written story. But to put so much stock in it all . . . to rest your vote, your political philosophy, your country's future . . . on a few well-told stories . . . it kinda makes you wonder . . .

As the Democratic Party makes the trek from Pennsylvania to Indiana, many people are agonizing—many in the media, the party, and in the greater population—over the seemingly endless slugfest that the primary has become. In prior years, a presumptive nominee was usually chosen after Super Tuesday, the day when many states hold there—

Wait a minute. Wait a minute. People are freaking out because for the first time in a long time everyone’s vote is being counted? Oh the dregs of democracy. How could we reach such a lowly state?

If you had to boil it down to one thing, you would probably have to point to the proportional representation delegate allotment rules. Instead of getting an entire state once a candidate gets the majority of its votes, candidates receive a representational percentage of the state’s delegates. In other words, the candidates get the delegates they earned; thus, the results more accurately reflect the minds of the voters.

Well, I can see why that would be a problem.

Now people are sick of it. Stupid democracy—sure we want to know what the people think . . . but not when it takes so looooooong.

Don’t worry, though, people. Because the Democratic Party isn’t about to let the people decide who they want to represent them. That will ultimately be up to superdelegates. Which is how it should be, I mean, really. After all, it’s the Democratic Party, so the presidential candidate should be someone who is sanctioned by the elite of that party. People with experience. People who know the direction the party should go. People like this guy.

Now. All of that said. Why do I still want to tear out my eyes at the thought of more months of this? How can I still look to the government and its mechanics and see hope for the future?

Sigh.

I’ll get back to you on that . . . until then, thank you, Jon. The Star Wars reference helps.

I woke up this morning fully prepared to devote the day to writing my novel, something I truly enjoy doing. I was not, however, expecting this (though I really should have):

Our President vetoed a bill designed to expand the State Children’s Health Insurance Program, or SCHIP, to poor children, to be paid for by a $0.61 tax increase on every pack of cigarettes.

Let’s break that down.

We have, on the one hand, poor, sick children. Let’s say that together one more time: “poor—sick—children.” We have, on the other hand, cigarette smokers. “Cig-ar-ette smokers.” In other words, this bill would have somehow been able to channel all the time and money put towards the production, sale, and consumption of cigarettes (one of the biggest health care threats facing anyone in the world), producing healthier children with a better standard of living. So of course the President vetoed it.

It is true that the bill would expand SCHIP to children who are not, under the strict legal definition of the term, impoverished. However, as Dr. Michael Zweig noted in his 2004 book, What’s Class Got to Do with It: American Society in the Twenty-First Century, “While in any given year 12 to 15 percent of the population is poor, over a ten-year period 40 percent experience poverty in at least one year because most poor people cycle in and out of poverty; they don't stay poor for long periods. Poverty is something that happens to the working class, not some marginal 'other' on the fringes of society.” But, remember, he only received a doctorate in political economics and labor economics from the University of Michigan and founded The Center for Study of Working Class Life at SUNY in Stony Brook—so, really, what’s he know?

President Bush naturally fears this bill as evidence of a creeping socialized health care, and he’s right to do so. We need only go as far as Europe to witness the near apocalyptic ramifications of this socialist plague. Look, for instance, at the strength of the euro and the rampant, anarchistic violence that plagues the entire continent. Tremble as you witness longer wait times before seeing a doctor, due to a needs-based queue practice (that is, people whose need is most urgent, that is, whose symptoms are most severe, that is, who have a greater risk of serious injury or death—they see a doctor first). One is hard pressed to even call it civilization.

It’s funny (or mind-numbingly depressing) that the “longer waiting times” objection is the most common objection I’ve heard whenever I talk about socialized (that is, universal) health care. The problem, as they see it, is that socialized health care helps everyone. It is much better (that is—in other words—more morally sound) to prevent people from even getting in line, so that the rich people can see the doctor first (or at all).

Do I sound bitter? Well, let me clarify: I am bitter. And it is absolutely no consolation the way people (and I mean that in only the most biological of definitions) are defending the President’s decision. There are, naturally, many arguments that are being made but they all seem to breakdown to a foundation of this:

Republicans oppose any and all forms of socialized health care,
The SCHIP expansion is a step closer to socialized health care,
Therefore, Republicans will oppose the SCHIP expansion.

In other words. Republicans don’t like this bill because that’s what Republicans do. Nevermind that the bill actually addresses a gross (and I mean that as both flagrant and grotesque) failure of our current health care system; nevermind that it will actually decrease the amount of money the average American contributes to poor—sick!—children’s health care (since the only time these children receive any medical care is when they show up in the Emergency Room, which, under the provisions of the Emergency Medical Treatment and Active Labor Act, cannot refuse treatment to anyone based on their inability to pay (moral duty, it seems, was not enough) and is, therefore, federally funded (In other words, under the current health care system of the United States of America, the government (via taxes) already pays more for uninsured health care than it would under the new SCHIP bill)). Republicans + Socialized Health Care = “Boo, hiss!”

Quick aside: The above reference to the biological definition of “people” is an example of an ad hominem attack. It is a logical fallacy and considered by most philosophers to be a last resort. In other words, a proponent of one side of an argument, having no response to another’s, resorts to an unjustified attack on that person instead of any actual argument. I’d like to clarify: I did not engage in an ad hominem attack as a last resort, not having any response to the President’s reasoning behind his veto or to Republicans’ reasoning behind their support of him. It was, in fact, an emotional response—my emotional response to what I perceive as moral and ethical ineptitude.

Republicans, of course, have their own proposal for how best to fix this actual, real world problem, never daring to stoop so low as to appeal to an ad hominem:

*reference not found*

In other words, it would appear that the Republican pro-life stance only extends as far as the womb. Once children are out, they have to earn their own keep.

And so, here we are. Stuck once again with a two-party form of government in which both sides rest on knee-jerk reactions to the other, based on polarized talking points, unwilling to engage each other in any sort of meaningful dialogue. But it’s better this way, isn’t it? We don’t want to build bridges and meet on common ground, actually improving our country. Because that’s not how our Founding Fathers set this country up. And since they shat gold and bled wine, we shouldn’t do anything to change that.

Some other words come to mind—other words to say to our President and the people who support him on this. These words would be easy for both sides of the issue to understand, too, since most of them are only three or four letters long.

How I love American politics.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately, randomly about random things, and I had a happy realization about myself. But more on that later.

I was talking with my friend, Nate, the other day. He called me. He was annoyed with me. My review (oh yeah, I just linked myself) of Cat’s Cradle had gotten him thinking, which of course only filled me with smiles. I paraphrase: “You can’t get me thinking about all these books—I don’t have the time!”

Nate and I have a fascinating relationship—one that never fails to fill me with smiles. He is a conservative capitalist. I am a liberal socialist. And yet that doesn’t stop us from believing many of the same things. We both hate Bush (or, he’s at least annoyed with him) for totally different reasons. Neither of us has a particularly strong faith in the human race. You should hear us talk about institutionalized religion. Nate’s a Christian; I’m not. But Nate’s such a devout Christian that he doesn’t feel the need to preach to me or anyone. He’d rather live the Beatitudes than mount the Ten Commandments in a courtroom.

He didn’t understand if I was applauding or condemning the book because I chose only to quote one-star reviews from amazon.com. But more on that later.

I am a bit of a narcissist (I link my own blog . . .). I try to hide it but if you pay attention you can tell. My girlfriend is quick to remind me of this. It’s one of the reasons I love her. Sometimes, when I’m walking my sister’s dog or driving across town or just generally bored and alone, I interview myself. I pretend that I’ve just published a book to rave reviews and I’m the hottest thing since the Foreman Grill. I’ll pretend that I’m on The Tonight Show or The Late Show or even The Daily Show if they would have me, and Jay or Dave or Jon wants to know all about me.

J/D/J: Boy, this book is hot right now.
Me: You’re not kidding. If I’d’ve known, I’d’ve taken a page (heh heh) from Bradbury and printed it in a flame-retardant jacket.

*laughter*

JDJ: It’s interesting that you choose multiple protagonists in many of your works, including this one.

(He/They is/are talking about my gangster piece that’s set on Mars)

But more on that later.

I remember, about a year ago (has it been that long?), I was talking with my friend, Nic, about ideals. I don’t like em. I think they’re unrealistic and too narrow in any real world situation. Nic said that wasn’t the point. He said an ideal wasn’t something to be made manifest in the real world. We can’t have Eden. I paraphrase: “But just because they’re unrealistic doesn’t mean they aren’t something we can shoot for.”

I own exactly forty Batman comics and graphic novels in addition to The Watchmen, V for Vendetta, and The Death of Superman. I don’t think I like the idea of a superhero. I certainly don’t like Superman (one of the reasons the only comic I own of his is the one in which he dies). Yes, he’s a bastion of American virtue. Yes, he could probably use his powers to dominate and enslave the human race but he chooses instead to use them for good. But that’s just it. He has a self-righteous idea of good that he got from his wholesome, Midwestern upbringing. He supposedly fights for Good, when that good is no more capitalized than mine. Batman, on the other hand, has one clear mission statement: to destroy the evil that killed his parents. And so he works every day to do so. And he’s not always nice about it. But he does it because it works. And he does it unapologetically. It also helps that the people he isn’t nice to are criminals, so when he does it we call him a hero. But at least he acknowledges that he toes that murky, grey line.

He also occasionally kicks Superman’s ass.

On some level, Batman knows he’s a little crazy. He dresses up like a bat and fights crime, for crying out loud. He also rarely fights alone. Certainly, in the beginning, he was but one man in a suit, but he still had Alfred to cool him down. Then he met Gordon. And then came Robin. Robin’s suit has bright colors, he doesn’t take a whole lot seriously, he readily makes light of any given situation. He’s the perfect counterbalance to Batman’s seething will to revenge. Batman needs Robin to balance him out. Keep him safe. Keep him (a little more) sane. Batman knows he is just one man and that the darkness that he becomes, that he fights, could conceivably consume him. He doesn’t get self-righteous about it.

All Superman has is a Fortress of Solitude.

Me: Well the thing is J/D/J, I don’t think any one person has the answer.
J/D/J: How do you mean?
Me: It’s a matter of perspective. Everyone’s got one, and no one can escape it. Take a man and his view of the world. That view will be colored by his race, ethnicity, socio-economic upbringing, culture, gender, etc. And he will always be constrained by that. Therefore, he will never be able to see anything outside that. He needs other people to round his view out. Otherwise, he’s just some guy.

Any book I like will be hated by countless others. Sometimes, I need to remember that.

I realized the other day that as a human being who exists within a certain social context, I will never have a truly Complete Viewpoint. I need everyone else to round me out. I also realized how much of a thoroughly democratic idea that is. I used to believe that democracy was the best form of government because it was slow. That’s still a good reason. When things in government happen quickly . . . things can turn bad just as quickly. But now I think my view is a little more rounded out.

That’s not to say our government doesn’t have areas to work on. Oh-ho-ho, belieeeeeve me.

But at least now I know what I want to shoot for.

J.K. Rowling is not a genius. Simmer down people. She's . . . adequate. She's good. And with the last few books she's been trying to write above her ability. She's got a good story going and she's certainly turned it into an economic success. But that doesn't make her a literary genius.

If the market determined genius, then Danielle Steele is the greatest author to ever live. And Shakespeare wasn't shit.

First post in months, I'm in an independent study and the workload is intense. After Friday I can breathe . . . Friday . . .


EDIT (in regards to Nic's comment): I was assuming sales figures during the artist's lifetime, which would put Danielle Steele on top of Shakespeare. Although, that does give any writer alive today in this world of bookstores and Amazon.com a distinct advantage against ol' Willy. What can I say . . . I was blogging angry.

Well, the country is a-tizzy with the upcoming mid-term elections, but honestly, people, I don’t give a damn. Could it be the obnoxious campaign commercials? A little. Could it be the fact that I can’t tell the difference between one jackass candidate and the other? A little more. They bat insults back and forth like a game of rhetorical badminton, so long as they don’t have to actually talk about anything. Because they don’t have anything to say. I’m believing more and more that really politicians are all just actors. People commissioned to play a part. They stand up in Congress, at city hall, in the White House and they speak words that they didn’t even write, words designed to lull us into a warm and cozy lucid state. They don their public personae the way an athlete dons a uniform. Go, Team! Go! Then, after the games are done, they take off their uniforms and do whatever the hell they want, hypocrisy be damned.

On a completely unrelated note, North Korea (may or may not have) detonated a nuclear weapon. (Assuming they did) The United States, China, Russia, Great Britain, and France (all countries with enough nuclear firepower to destroy the world several times over) were quick to denounce North Korea’s actions.

Mark Foley was indicted for sexually harassing under-aged boys. He was a Republican senator and a strong advocate for tradition family values. (Seemingly) Moments after the story broke the headlines it was announced that he was an alcoholic. It wasn’t him. The alcohol made him do it (him and Mel Gibson). He was a homosexual. We all know homosexuals molest children. He was molested by a Catholic priest at a young age. He was probed by aliens. He has jungle fever. Etc, etc. His deeds were kept secret by the Republican Party for as long as possible. In 1999, Foley voted to impeach President Clinton. Because we can’t have someone like that in office.

On a political banner a block from my apartment is a slogan for the Democratic candidate Rod R. Blagojevich, as well as an address for his campaign website. www.rodforillinois.com That’s right. If we all work together, we can have a Rod for Illinois. This is the only thing I really know about the candidate. Every other time I've seen him on the television (or his opponent) he's insulting the other candidate (and vice versa). So I know he wants a Rod for Illinois. And he’s a jackass.

On a somewhat more related note, I wonder if North Korea would ever actually use the bomb (assuming they did test one and it was successful), or if simply having it would be enough. I wonder if it really matters.

I'm currently reading Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions and I think it's having a direct effect on the way I write. Syntax, diction, and so on.

My rhetoric teacher told me that the sad fact was the only way Athenian democracy could have worked was because of the institution of slavery. While the white males (I mean citizens) of Athens were busy drawing up and executing legislation, thousands and thousands of slaves were busy running their households and businesses. In short, slaves made sure the country functioned while the Athenian males ran it. In 2003, 36 million Americans were considered impoverished, unable to support themselves or others. Nearly half of these are children. The poverty threshold for a family of four in the United States is an annual income of $18,810. For a family of three, it is $14,680. Two: $12,015. And, finally, the poverty threshold for any one person is $9,393. If you make $10,000 a year in the United States you are expected to pay for housing, health insurance (and, god help you, medical expenses), car insurance (although you probably don’t have a car (which will certainly help your job prospects) so you’ll have to pay for public transportation) clothing, education (oh, who am I fooling? You can’t go to college or get better job training), phone, water, electricity, and, if you have anything to spare, food. You can invest the rest. By the way, you aren’t considered impoverished. God bless America—the land of opportunity.

On a, by now, related note, I sometimes wish someone would push the button. Sometimes it just feels like the universe would be that much better off.

Well, that was a chipper post . . .

I recently watched this debate and couldn't help but get frustrated. First off, Jack Thompson was a dick. It's fine to be passionate about a topic, but c'mon. I ended up searching Game Daily for the article they published. It's here, and I found it very interesting. This whole debate just irks me. Why do I think trying to connect violent crime to video games is so ludicrous? Well, me and my friends for a couple of reasons. I've played some incredibly violent video games (including the infamous Manhunt and Grand Theft Auto III games . . . in fact, just about every Grand Theft Auto game in existence) and I've also never committed a violent crime. As a matter of fact, I've been told by several people that I'm one of the least violent people they've ever met. Granted, I'm no Gandhi, but you'd think I'd be just a little more aggressive. Same with my friends. We all play the same video games, and I'm proud to say that none of my friends have ever committed a violent crime. You know, as I think back, most of the pricks who were bullies didn't play as many video games as me and the people I called friends. They were too busy playing football (ya know, the sport that promotes actual violence against other actual people) and, pfft, leaving the house and knocking up cheerleaders to play video games. I think the real problem here is the institution of cheerleading.

Another of the many myths about violence and video games (and one that Mr. Jack "Uber-dick" Johnson likes to exploit) is the notion that you can somehow "train" yourself to fire a gun with deadly accuracy on a video game. Now, to be honest, I've never fired a "real" gun (again . . . not a violent person), but I have fired an air rifle and . . . not to kick my own ego in the crotch but good lord I sucked. I fired a depressingly large number of pellets at five different cans lined up maybe . . . fifteen feet away and I didn't hit one of them. Not one! Sigh . . . now, to put an ice pack on my bruised ego, I'm pretty damn good at those first-person shooters. And give me a rifle with an aiming and trigger device in the shape of a game control, as well as a universe with simplified laws of physics, and I'll bullseye any turkey you put in front of me.

Mr. Thompson also says he represented the families of victims in Paducah, Kentucky, claiming that games like Doom trained the killer. He doesn't include the little fact that he lost that case, and failed to prove any link between the motive or execution of the crime to video games.

The plain fact of the matter is, we're not caught in some epidemic of youth violence. Society is not on the brink of armageddon. Jesus . . . ain't visitin' for a while (if at all--hey-o!). I mean, what do you want from me? People go on and on about violent video games and they never mention cartoons, including old cartoons like Bugs Bunny and Tom and Jerry. Have you ever tried to count the number of violent acts represented there? I could cite another essay for you but it's not gonna change your mind. This is one of those issues where people have an opinion and they find evidence that backs that up. You know what, here, just for kicks I'll post a link to the article I can only assume is the one Jack Thompson was referring to since he didn't cite a specific title or author, just threw out a big name like the American Psychological Association (yay, big words!). You'll notice that for all the facts on how the brain works, Dr. Anderson doesn't address the fact that violence among youths (as well as among Americans as a whole) is at an all-time low, a fact stated by Duke Ferris, founder of Game Revolution, in the first article I found--Mr. Ferris citing, of course, the U.S. Department of Justice, Bureau of Statistics.

Suck it, Thompson.

Blowback

n. The retaliatory (negative) action of a party because of the covert operations of another. As seen through the eyes of the victims, blowback comes without provocation (since the provocation was, in fact, due to a covert and deniable action). See also: the Iran-Contra Affair, the Persian Gulf War, and Sept. 11th.

The really depressing thing isn't that this happens (that's just depressing), but that it happens so often there's a term for it.

The above statement is just another of the many reasons that I would sexual pleasure Mr. Jon Stewart only if he asked. He said this in an interview with Juliet Eilperin, author of Fight Club Politics: How Partisanship Is Poisoning the U.S. House of Representatives. It's an excellent interview. In it, she explains how districts in America have been arranged so that senators have a 98% chance of getting re-elected. 98%. That, among other things, means that senators can say whatever they want, do whatever they want, and sign whatever they want because they know that there is a 98% chance that they will be re-elected. Guh, it makes me feel dirty. Is getting actual representation for a country's citizens really that frightening?

Said Ms. Eilperin when asked by Jon Stewart, "So you choose to focus on the raping and pillaging of the environment rather than cover politics because . . ."

"I find it less depressing."