Give the Props Their Propers

I have been in Obama obsession for ten long months, a thrilling but strenuous stretch which I hope will end in bliss one week from today. So single-minded has my focus been that I did not notice until a few days ago that there are some propositions lying around. Several of them concern issues dear to me, like gay rights and chickens and how to get to Anaheim with minimum suffering. So since I can say nothing more about Obama for now, allow me to share with you my proper recommendations.


Prop 1a--Bullet Train
YEAH!
Neato! It's good for the environment! It's an economic stimulus! Let's do it!
If a bullet train offered to take you from SF to LA in three hours, could you possibly say no? Surely not if you've suffered the grueling drive down the 5, feedlot odors wafting through closed windows, arriving at 2am to avoid LA traffic and still not avoiding it. Bullet tickets would be approx cheaper than gas.

Prop 2--Farm Animals
YES, please
Let hardscrabble California layers spread their wings by 2015. So much to ask?
This prop prohibits harsh confinement of farm animals in general, but since we don't have much of a pork or veal industry, the LA Times calls Prop 2 "all about chickens." The more you understand chickens, the sadder it gets to see footage of laying hens squeezed four to a stacked cage. (Those in the bottom cages literally get shit on.) My three hennies have a fifteen square foot coop; any time they have to stay in it all day, bitching and moaning is sure to ensue. They can't imagine the animal despair of birds who can't even flap a wing, never mind parachute off the ramp door across the backyard.

Prop 4--Parental Notification
NO
Preggers teens screwed enough already.
Californians have already voted down parental notification for abortions, in part because critics pointed out that notification could be a bitch for girls from abusive homes. This new version is supposed to answer those critics by allowing young ladies to notify another "adult family member" if their parents are sufficiently mean. Yeah, since every kid from an abusive home has some *cool relative* they can go tell they got pregnant. The "other adult family member" thing would also require the pregnant teen to officially declare her parent(s) abusive. I say she's got enough to worry about.

Prop 8--Outlaw Gay Marriage
NO AND HELL NO
Just equal rights.

Isn't it funny how the prejudiced of any given era are always sure they're not the assholes? Were white people in Alabama in the fifties like, Yes, I'm racist, I want to deny black people their civil rights. No, they were like, Separate but equal! We don't have anything against black people! We just think certain customary norms should remain in place, is all. Likewise, those waving signs for Prop 8 at the Fruitvale 580 exit seem totally sure they're just abiding tradition and religion. Memo to them: It never feels like you're the bigot future generations will disdain.
Props 7 and 10 are fakey environmental props, so no thanks.

Tweet

He May Be a Dictator, But He's Our Dictator

Nothing turns on the Walnut (our little Musharraf) like fresh laundry and a snapping camera.

Tweet

90% of Me Is Cable News

(with apologies to Gwen McCrae)

How can I do the things I wanna do
When 90% of me
Is cable news

My heart no longer does what I want it to
Because 90% of me
Is cable news

I want to hear Gene Robinson's baritone
Without gettin weak in the knees
And look Gergen in the eyes
Without swooning like that chick Jessi

I wanna be the kind of viewer
Who knows how to use
My snazzy Comcast remote
To end these cable blues

How can I do the things I wanna do
When 90% of me
Is cable news

My heart no longer does what I want it to
Because 90% of me
Is cable news

Norah O'Donnell's perky
Campbell Brown is too
But Candy Crowley reassures me
Reporters can be uncute

Maddow she's infectious
But my best pundit's always Chris
I never thought it possible
That I could be controlled like this

How can I do the things I wanna do
When 90% of me, baby
Is cable news

My heart no longer does what I want it to
(You know why!)
Because 90% of me
Is cable news

Tweet

In Which I Meander Aimlessly

I'm too scattered at the mo for a solid-topic post. For one thing, the election is near and for another, I'm being asked to 'do things' during my afternoon serenity time, aka my reception job. So that sucks. How's a girl to plog?


Even with Obama ahead, I'm plagued by fears. But my fears about the election are trite. Let me share with you another fear: that "Love Lockdown" will worm its way into my heart. When Mr. West rolled it out last month, "Love Lockdown" was generally agreed to be a debacle. Kanye's singing was ear-splitting, the beat was a woeful rough draft--even Auto-Tune threw up its hands in despair. After humiliating himself at the VMAs, Yeezy was supposedly 'working on it,' but the radio release was no better. We all laughed schaudenfreudistically. The mighty shall fall. But I fear that Kanye, in his beat-making all-knowingness, has put one over on us. That weeks from now we'll all have to admit that it's good after all. That fear is nourished by the fact that "Love Lockdown" is in my head right now.


Paulie James Walnuts III had his final vet follow-up (following up on his recent brush with death) this morning and he's in excellent form. But we knew he was better when he resumed being a total dick and paragon of self-involvement. The other day, I got him purring just by taking a long series of photographs while he moved from one sultry pose to the next. And that's not personification; it really happened. Results of the photoshoot to come. I'll promise you some pix of the chickens and harvest pr0n while I'm at it.


I'm in a weird frozen state vis-a-vis the election. Maybe I hope that if I just freeze and don't think about anything too much, the rest of the world will also freeze and we'll defrost on November 5th in a deep blue map ocean.


Also, Lupe Fiasco has finally decided to get over himself and spare a verse for an Obama-ey song.

Tweet

Beards

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


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

Tweet

Anderson Cooper Lets ME Decide?

Really, Anderson? Me? Wittle ol me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tweet

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like February

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tweet

Palin With Pizza, Yum

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

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

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

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

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

Tweet