FIRST DRAFT

A really funny gang rape

Here’s a great joke:

How do you know a 16-year-old girl is likely dead?

“You don’t sleep through a wang in the butthole!”

Wait, here’s a better one!

How dead is a 16-year-old girl who was kidnapped by a group of high school classmates and repeatedly raped?

“She’s deader than O.J.’s wife!”

Have you stopped laughing yet? Then you'll love this one:

How hard did a group of high school football players, one by one, rape a girl after they had to physically carry her unconscious body from one party into their “rape crew” party?

“They raped her harder than that cop raped Marcellus Wallace in Pulp Fiction. And they raped her quicker than Mike Tyson raped that one girl…”

Do you need to catch your breath? Laughing so hard? Yeah, here’s another one that will have you just crying:

How pointless is it to try to help a 16-year-old girl who, after being raped while unconscious (possibly because some asshole roofied her), was peed on and still didn’t wake up?

“That’s like trying to help wood turn into stone. That’s like trying to help the Padres to a .500 season. That’s like trying to help Tim Tebow be a good quarterback. That’s like trying to help Natty Light become a refreshing beer.”

Wait… You’re not laughing?

I guess you’re not from Steubenville, Ohio’s proud high school. If you were, you’d probably think this stuff was hysterical. At least, that’s what the video evidence that was leaked earlier this week reveals.

An anonymous hacker posted a 12-minute clip of a young man, identified as former Steubenville High School baseball player Michael Nodianos, detailing how “raped” a young woman was at the party. Those one-line zingers above? Nothing but his comedic genius at work.

Not satisfied to simply take his one-idiot improv act to video, Nodianos is said to have also tweeted about the incident, so his brilliance could be enjoyed by those without the inclination to sit through a fifth of an hour of pure dickheadery.

The rape was said to have occurred in August, but the prosecution of the football players who were said to be responsible for these acts failed to gain traction until the blogosphere took hold of the story. Allegations that police had brushed the incident under the rug in this 18,000-person football-crazed town were refuted by prosecutors, who said almost no one came forward to offer any information about this vile act.

Now, it seems that everyone’s eyes are on this hamlet best known for its dying industrial base and as the birthplace of famed gambler Jimmy the Greek.

Prior to this national shaming, it seemed as if nothing could bring down the “Big Red” spirit. To wit, here’s the opening line from the “investigative” piece from the Cleveland Plain Dealer:

It’s Monday, and ominous-looking clouds are pushing over Harding Stadium as dozens of football players in practice jerseys prepare to take on Cleveland’s Benedictine Bengals.

But this day two key players are missing from the field.

Right. Because that’s the news. We’re missing two key players from this “Championship-Bound” group of extraordinary young gentlemen. Never mind that the story also notes that several players linked to this shameful act were still PLAYING ON THE TEAM at the time this was written.

Talk about a joke…

If you want to spend 12 of the creepiest minutes of your life, watch the video. Usually, when someone tells me something is “extremely disturbing” they’re trying to warn me off about a blood-soaked scene, an obscenity laced tirade or a speech Mitt Romney is giving. In any of those cases, I can eat a ham sandwich and watch it no problem.

This one? No way. I saw it twice and that was three times too many.

The worst part was that this kid and most of his friends were in no way empathetic. They laughed. They cracked jokes. They sipped beverages out of Styrofoam cups while musing about how little this girl's life mattered.

When a friend asked, “What if it was your daughter?” Nodianos replied, “It’s not.”

Well, I have a daughter.

She’s seven.

I worry every day about what’s going to happen to her.

When I see assholes like these strutting around like roosters, proclaiming the awesomeness of someone else’s daughter being brutalized, every ounce of fear and rage I have heightens in my desperation to protect her.

The kid recording all this said he planned to watch this video every day.

I hope he does. I hope it eventually sinks in what actually happened to this girl.

I don’t know if that kid or Nodianos or any of the other vidiots can be charged with a crime. At the very least, I wish they would be forced to stand in front of their peers, the school administrators, the parents and the loved ones of everyone in their school at some giant assembly.

Then, I want someone to play this whole video on a projection screen as they stand there and watch how people stare at them in horror and disgust.

I want every college recruiter and every employer who Googles these pecker-heads to have that video pop up front and center so they can see exactly what they had to say about how “raped” this poor child was.

I hope they do have families and then have to explain to their kids why Daddy was laughing in that video about the hurt girl. I also want them to simply have to worry about people like them being out there, all too ready to take advantage of an incapacitated child.

I’ll bet all of that would just be downright hilarious.

Brave

Five years ago, a former student of mine teetered on the edge of ending her own life.

I never knew it at the time, as she had slipped through the cracks of life like so many other kids who sit in my classes and stare back at me as I pontificate about something or other. She was a great student, a funny kid and an amazing journalist. She had that weird “quirk” about her that predisposed her to a life spent with coffee and cigarettes and off-color jokes. She oscillated between self-deprecating humor and claims of being a Golden God of design. She just had that odd newsroom sense of being annoyed with herself and being proud of herself all at the same time.

Turns out, some of that was the doing of a mental illness.

In a column she wrote a few years back, she did the scariest and bravest thing I could imagine: She told people she was broken.

(The DM didn't keep the full version on its site. She added this note to her Facebook page that was the "uncut" edition. Read it if you get a chance.)

She explained the nature of her bipolar disorder and how the pills weren’t helping and how she had neatly arranged the bottles and pondered how best to end her own life. She explained that this wasn’t a mental snap, a one-shot deal where she “had a bad day” but rather a slow build that had taken half of her life from her. She provided details of life as a kid, a young woman and an adult who was forced to live a silent struggle against a societal shaming.

You break a leg? Ouch! There’s a doctor for that.

You contract an illness? Oh, you poor thing! There’s a cure for that.

You have a mental “issue?” Snap out of it. Jesus… Quit being such a crybaby.

I hadn’t thought about her for a while until I read the story of Officer Jen Sebena and her husband, Ben, who is now charged with her murder.

We were watching TV on Christmas Eve when the news of her death came across the screen. She was found dead while on duty, having been shot multiple times outside a Wauwatosa fire station. Two days later, her husband sat in a courtroom, while the details of his disturbing behavior had been revealed.

Ben Sebena was a highly decorated Marine, who was part of the invasion force at the start of the 2003 Iraq War. He received a Purple Heart after surviving a mortar attack that left him with scars all over his body.

In a YouTube video, he talks of seeing friends killed all around him, of having to kill a child, of learning that “death is OK.”

Over the past month, Jen Sebena had told fellow officers her husband had become more erratic.

He abused her, held a gun to her head and threatened to kill her.

He claimed to be jealous of “other men” although no evidence has come to light suggesting any other men in his wife’s life.

He punched holes in the walls of their home.

In the days leading up to the murder, Ben stalked his wife, following her in the couple’s 2012 Prius. He then emerged from the shadows on Christmas Eve around 4:30 a.m.

He shot her twice in the back of the head before removing her service weapon from its holster and pumping three more bullets into her face. He later told police he wanted to make sure she was dead and that she didn’t suffer.

Ben Sebena has been charged with first-degree intentional homicide and although no one has made mention of it yet, I would be willing to bet every dollar I have that his “mental condition” will come into play at some point.

Chances are, those events he spoke of during that video and many more he couldn’t bring himself to discuss hurt him in a way far deeper than that mortar attack ever could. He told people that he had been “into the dark places,” and it’s unclear if he ever truly recovered from that. Even more, he might have had issues before he entered Iraq or before he entered the Corps or before he entered high school.

In the end, this hulking man who had been trained to kill couldn’t or wouldn’t come to grips with the idea that he probably needed mental help.

In reflecting on her decision to publish her story, Nicole talked about how mental illness is one of the last giant stigmas in our country. In fact, it was the death of a police officer prior to her column that inspired her to come out about this issue:

Last year, a man with bipolar disorder shot and killed a state trooper. In the interviews with his family afterward, they said they had been trying to get him help, but the public response seemed to be “crazy people shoot cops.” I’m not saying I’m crazy, but I do believe if the man had gotten the help he needed, he could have managed the disease.

In the five years since she was able to crawl back off that ledge, Nicole has been climbing the ladder at a prestigious newspaper, spending time with her boyfriend and advocating for the mentally ill. This year, she also donated a kidney to her father.

She touched many lives and made so many people so much better because she figured out she needed help and she got it.

Ben Sebena probably needed help and he had access to it. The VA in Milwaukee is renowned for being one of the best in the Midwest in terms of providing services to veterans. Those who have served have access to counseling, medicine and health care professionals.

In many cases, though, the vets don’t take advantage of these opportunities due to a distain for bureaucracy. In other cases, I would imagine, the societal equation of mental issues with weakness would be another reason.

I’ve spent more than enough time with “guy’s guys” to know what gets said over beer when the subject of someone seeing “a shrink” comes up:

“Does his husband go with him to see the shrink?”

“Hey, did the doctor give him a box of tampons too?”

“I just figured he was tougher than that…”

In other words “mental illness equals pussy.”

And yet it was this diminutive kid with a pixie haircut who was stronger than all of them, a woman who laid bare her fears and shared a story that most of those manly men can’t tell. She was tougher than people who earned a chest full of medals by being willing to stand up in the face of death but are unwilling to sit down with “a shrink.”

It was probably the bravest thing I ever saw.

Fuck The NRA

Okay, I spent an hour composing a nice thoughtful post with a much more polite title and fucking TypePad ate it and it’s nowhere to be found, so that’s an hour of my day gone and I’m now inclined to be crabby and brief. Here goes:

1 - TypePad sucks.

2- Fuck the NRA. Let’s just stop pretending they’re anything other than a political lobbying arm of the Republican Party operating on behalf of gun manufacturers. Whatever they started out as, they are no longer that. They do not represent gun owners or sportsmen. They are not a grassroots organization. Their leadership is almost entirely Republican Party political figures and gun manufacturers, with a few militia extremists thrown in for extra nutty flavor. If you have paid dues to the NRA you are the chump paying for Larry “wide stance” Craig, Ken Blackwell, Grover Norquist, Oliver North and John Bolton to swill Scotch and play a few rounds at some fancy golf resort. I do not think there is any equivalent in the Democratic Party.

3- Fox News executives evidently instructed their producers to not discuss gun control on the network. I highly doubt this was an independent decision. We have a “Guns Industrial Complex” operating in this country and it’s time we expose this fraud for what it is. The last thing the  GOP and gun manufacturers want is a discussion of gun violence and gun control, and while they’ve been enormously successful in shutting down debate in the past, it’s not working this time. I imagine GOP leaders, Roger Ailes and the top gun guys are regrouping on messaging as I write this. Expect to see Fox News come out full-bore on the "more guns could have stopped this" front. Also, who's gonna be the first nutter to blame Obama for this tragedy -- you know, so he could take everyone's guns -- just as they always knew he would?! My money's on Jim "Dim" Hoft.

4- I swear to God if another liberal clutches their pearls and wonders “where’s the outrage” for all the dead children in the Middle East I’m gonna kick a puppy (not really. I couldn’t do that.) Yes, it’s horrible that we care more about our kids than those in other nations. It’s horrible that we’ve killed thousands and thousands of innocents with our warmongering. I get that. But fuckitall, what war hasn’t killed innocents? What war isn’t awful? Isn’t that the fucking point? 

We care about what happened in Connecticut because these are our kids. And we failed them. Let’s deal with our failure as Americans to protect our children from violence in their own classrooms before we start attempting to deal with humanity’s collective failure to end war for all time. If we can’t turn our swords into plowshares at home we sure as hell won’t be doing it anywhere else.

5- Nashville is set to host the NRA's 2015 annual convention. There is a petition asking Mayor Karl Dean to stop it. Success if doubtful, but I pass the link on anyway.

6- Consider asking your local police deparment to schedule a "gun amnesty day." These are days when illegal/unwanted guns and ammo can be dropped off anonymously at local police precincts. Most communities have them. The guns are usually destroyed, though I'm told some PD's resell them, so maybe check into that too. It's important to get guns off the streets.

7- Did I mention TypePad sucks? It really does.

Dead Children. Again.

A few days ago, a letter came home from The Midget’s school, noting that  we had to fully list all of the people who would be allowed to pick her up from school. In addition, the school was implementing additional security measures in which children had to walk with their classes and teachers had to make contact the adult prior to releasing the kid.

Last night, after the Christmas concert, the choral director announced that the parents had to come up and get the kids and make sure to check out with the teachers.

To me, it all seemed frivolous. Nothing bad ever happened to my kid by running out of the door of the school, barreling toward me while screaming  “DADDY!”

OK, maybe a skinned knee or a bruised shin when the tripped ass over teakettle, but other than that?

I wonder how many parents at Sandy Hook Elementary School thought the same thing before today. The wooded area the police spent the morning searching had that tranquil, peaceful feel to it. The word “hamlet” springs to mind.

A gunman's rage brought to fruition brought this tiny Connecticut town to our attention today.

26 dead. At least.

I wonder how many parents at schools all across the nation are watching the newscasts and asking, “Is my kid safe?”

In less than two hours, I have to go pick up my kid from school. When she is released from her teacher’s watchful gaze and plunges into my arms, I know I’ll hug her tighter than ever.

What should I tell her about what happened out there?

 ---

During the last election, I found myself at more than a few stoplights behind trucks, cars and vans with “I’m the NRA and I VOTE!” bumper stickers. They weren’t the only stickers like that I’ve seen.

The punchy slogans ranged from “Gun control means hitting your target” to “They can have my gun when they pry it from my cold, dead hands!”

Bumper stickers like that serve as a chip on the shoulder of the car’s owner. It says, “Yeah? I said it. What are you going to do about it?” They’re like every other one-way conduit of information: they state a position and invite no dissention.

They do not change.

I wonder how many of those “pro-gun” bumper stickers graced the Hondas and Chevys and Toyotas and Fords and Volvos and BMWs on the cars in that parking lot that WABC keeps showing from its “helicopter cam.”

How many parents who lost children in this senseless act of violent social desecration will go home to a home with a gun?

When they look at their own gun from this moment on, what will they see?

How will they reconcile the two images?

How many of the students who survived will go home and ask a parent about the gun rack, the gun safe, the hunting gear in their own home?

What will they want to know? How will the parents respond?

Children of this age have a simple understanding of the world and yet, they just experienced something even the best minds in the world cannot comprehend.

It is a pretty safe bet that one of the 600 children in this school will ask, “Why did the bad man have a gun?”

What bumper sticker can answer that question?

---

A week or so ago, Wayne LaPierre, the head of the National Rifle Association, noted that had Kasandra Perkins owned a gun, she might still be alive.  

I wonder what LaPierre’s answer will be this time. Should we arm the teachers? Should we arm the administrators? Should we arm the kids?

In one way, LaPierre had a point: A gun is an equalizer.

It gives power to the weak.

It gives one man dominion over others.

It empowers people who feel aggrieved, disgruntled, upset, angered or in some other way injured to make tangible the internal hurt, rage, despair, pain and fear they feel.

Shootings like this one are imbrued with a sense of  “that’ll show ‘em.”

Later in his interview with USA Today Sports, LaPierre noted:

"Owning guns is a mainstream part of American culture and it's growing every day. My God, there's nothing more mainstream in this country than 100 million Americans who own firearms.”

With all due respect, Mr. LaPierre, yes there is.

“Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.”

If the framers believed in anything, it wasn’t a gun but the right to live. This is the right that one can’t take from another, lest he forfeit his own cause to claim a right to live, to live free or to live happily.

I do not want to force Wayne LaPierre to explain the actions of this individual, as such a demand would be as disingenuous as, for example, asking one woman to represent all women.

However, I do not think it would be unfair to demand of this one man to explain the thinking of the group he represents.

To understand why guns can’t be better regulated.

To figure out why his group doesn’t want to limit the weapons available or at least keep stronger controls on them.

To ask the question we all want to know the answer to.

How many have to die?

#BiebsMeetAly

 

The week that was included another debate over gun control after a Kansas City Chiefs player killed his girlfriend and then himself after attempts by his coach and GM to stop him failed. Of course, the thing that could have solved the problem of gun violence is if another gun had been available.

We’re debating the merits of the “fiscal cliff” and there are problems relating to whether the really super rich will be taxed or if just the super, super rich will be taxed.

My home state of Wisconsin and its higher-ed system are battling over the idea of if it should raise the cap on out of state students, thus theoretically making it harder for some in-state kids to get in. Some state politicians don’t want this and argue that it’s a money grab. Of course, this is the group of idiots who have constantly cut UW System funding at the state level, thus necessitating the money grab.

Students are hitting the wall around here, with finals leading to cheating, leading to crying, leading to paperwork. Faculty members around here are grumbling about “kids these days” and how they somehow expect to turn an F into an A by begging for extra credit two days before the final.

I also have a faculty meeting that is likely to be so bad that my stock in Rolaids will go up by two points by the end of the day.

If all of these things represent the worst of us, #BiebsMeetAly represents the best.

According to the Facebook page started for this concept:

 

Aly is a 19 year-old from McFarland, WI who is battling cancer. She was scheduled to have a liver transplant but when she went in for the final check up, doctors found that the cancer had spread and the liver transplant would no longer be effective. We have put together a YouTube Video and started the Twitter campaign #BiebsMeetAly to raise awareness for Aly to meet Justin Bieber.

 

You can make all the cracks you want about the value of wanting to meet Justin Bieber, but the fact is, this is a kid who is clinging to hope. If you know anything about recovery from violent acts, deadly illness or anything else in which the odds are not good, mental strength is 90 percent of the game. This kid is suffering from neuroendocrine cancer that is spreading. She was taken off the transplant list. She’s on a clinical trial drug and God alone knows if it will be effective. Clinging to hope, regardless of what that hope is, is likely to be the difference between a successful recovery or an untimely demise.

You can make all the cracks you want to about how “kids these days” can’t be bothered to vote for state races or stay informed or galvanize support for the “important things” out there if you want. However, in a relatively short time, a group of students from this campus built a social media campaign that has #biebsmeetaly trending all over the place. Famous athletes, local mascots and other important people have jumped on the bandwagon, as have people like me who have never met this kid and couldn’t pick her out of a line-up if she mugged me. They didn’t say, “It’s finals week and I’m busy” or “Maybe later.” They hopped on this and kept pressing the issue because they found something important that was worthy of their support.

Instead, think about what her hope represents: a hope within us all that some small thing can be the driving force behind a larger goal.

It’s like a small blade of grass that forces its way through a crack in a concrete sidewalk.

It’s so damned courageous.

If you agree, tweet for #BiebsMeetAly.

Fully Funded! You Guys Are AMAZING!

PS197 Ocean School's music project is FULLY FUNDED! Every time I think it's gonna take this blog a week to get something done, you handle it in like six hours and throw a party. 

I love my Internet. 

A. 

Let's Do This: Give a Hurricane Sandy-Battered School a Happy Holiday

So I'm in my kitchen on Sunday making what feels like the thousandth batch of Christmas cookies I've made so far this year, and turning up the local Christmas music station to try to stave off the holiday blues, yelling along DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR and generally annoying the hell out of the longest-suffering husband on the planet, and this sticks in my throat: 

Said the king to the people everywhere
Listen to what I say
Pray for peace people everywhere

Because it's not enough to pray for peace, where prayer means mouthing words in pews. It's not enough to wish for the best for this world. It's not enough to take ten minutes every year for goodwill to all. You live it every day, as best you can. It's cold out right now, and dark, and TV's telling us to buy everything and decorate everything and also to be more thoughtful about what really matters, and it's enough to drive you batty. 

So what I do, in these situations, is find something to fix. We've sent care packages overseas and collected coats and brought one another some holiday cheer in the past. And because the TV news has forgotten let's remember large parts of this country recently got flattened and they need help, so let's help: 

My Students: We have finally started school again Hurricane Sandy destroyed our community in Far Rockaway. Most of our students and many of our teachers lost everything. I want to do anything I can to try to improve their lives right now, even if it's more opportunities and resources in their classrooms.

Music is a skill and a passion that a child can take pride in for the rest of his or her life. It is time for our students to experience the power and joy that music can have in their lives.

Our school is a Title I elementary school with a culturally diverse student community. Our little scholars have not had music in their lives for over two years, and we are struggling to provide them everything they deserve. They are creative and bright students who crave music and the varieties of activities it can bring with it.

My Project: My students need a printer, ink cartridges, and paper for basic supplies in our classroom. The printer will be used to print student work, worksheets, and pictures to display in the room. We have shows coming up and the printer can be used to make programs and print accessories. The ink will be used to maintain the printer throughout the school year. Lastly, the paper will be used to print on.

Let's give this classroom what they need so they can start off 2013 just a little less needy. Let's adopt PS197 Ocean School, and help clean up what the hurricane destroyed, and make peace and joy happen.

A. 

Support Independent Journalism

My friend Erin is working on an amazing project in the American Arab communities in Michigan and New York. She's an outstanding reporter of the kind we should nurture, if we ever want to get better at understanding the world around us. 

Go, read, and contribute if you can. 

A. 

$20 from a safety net

Her name was Rachael and she would have been 14 this year.

I usually think about her as school gears up each fall, as kids shop for school supplies and new gym shoes.

I think about her parents, both of whom are now well on their way to middle age. When Rachael was born, they were two scared 20-something kids with a daughter in danger. He was an agricultural laborer, and she was a stay-at-home mom.

I thought about all of this today in the wake of Mitt Romney’s speech at the RNC last night. He spoke out against the failure of Obama to do much of anything good. Jobs lost, costs hiked, people screwed.

(Side Note: I have to give the RNC a lot of credit for one thing: Clint Eastwood. Instead of the media going after Paul Ryan’s horseshit or Mitt’s bullshit, everyone is enamored by rambling oratory that was likely taken from the “Book of Speeches, Salutes and Wedding Toasts delivered by Drunken Brothers-in-Law and Other Morons Who Grabbed the Mic.” Nice inadvertent idiotic brilliance.)

When Mitt was yammering, I was flipping back and forth between two channels filled with lies: The RNC on one station and the Green Bay Packer announcers who were trying to convince me that the Packers wouldn’t miss a beat if Aaron Rodgers went down and Graham Harrell had to take over on the other. I was also uploading news articles I needed my students to read this term for my feature-writing class, which is where I came across a piece on Rachael.

And then it all came back.

 

When I worked as an editor in Missouri, one of the things we didn’t lack for was reporters. The students would fill the newsroom each year and look for stories that hadn’t been done before. The joke around town was that if you hadn’t been interviewed at least three times each year by someone on our staff, chances are you were dead.

Most of the stories were what you would expect out of a newspaper brimming with cub reporters: fires and floods, meetings and speeches, pomp and circumstance.

I was helping to oversee coverage of outlying areas, which usually led to some meeting stories and an occasional county fair story. If it was happening out in Boonville (an actual city, not a slight) or beyond, chances are no one really cared.

One day, a kid came to me with a scrap of paper he’d pulled from a weekly paper that covered an outlying farm community. It was a tiny ad, alerting the community at large that someone was hosting a chili supper with proceeds to benefit a girl named Rachael.

“Can I go?” he asked, understanding that space and mileage money were tightly rationed.

“Sure,” I told him, figuring not much would come of this. “Let me know what happens when you get back.”

The next time I saw him, he was chattering away like an agitated monkey. He told me the story of Rachael, a baby with Down Syndrome and a hole in her heart. The family had no insurance, the dad was the sole source of income and they had already been drained by all the complications associated with Rachael’s birth.

Her grandfather had gotten some people together to make and serve chili to help defray the cost of the upcoming open-heart surgery.

The family wasn’t thrilled about this nosy kid who was writing down everything thing they had to say. They were guarded and concerned.

But, the next time they had a supper, back the kid went for another update about the fundraising and the girl.

The more he went, the more he wrote. The more he wrote, the more people heard. The more they heard, the more they gave.

Eventually, the family adopted this goofy college student who had taken up their cause in print and started opening up about all of this. They told him they never regretted the decision to have a child they knew would have these problems. They felt both saddened and overwhelmed with gratitude when people started to donate to their cause.

“We’re afraid to ask how much it’s going to be,” the mom said at one point. She had been trying to find a job to help out, but between caring for Rachael and the general state of the economy, she couldn’t manage it.

Her husband did everything he could to be the breadwinner. He worked upwards of 80 hours a week during planting season in an attempt to help the family cobble a life together.

He might have been better off if he hadn’t.

In one of the last interviews leading up to the surgery, the mom revealed her husband made too much money in the previous fiscal year to qualify for Medicaid and WIC benefits that would have taken care of much, if not all of the bills.

“How much is too much?” the kid asked.

“We missed the cut off by about $20.”

 

Rachael kept getting worse and then a bit better and then a bit worse.

Something had to be done.

The surgery happened in November of that year. She was less than two months old when her family gathered in a private waiting room. Her grandfather was in a hospital bed on one floor, recovering from his heart attack while she was being tended to on another floor.

My kid was there as well, at the behest of the family, watching all of this come together.

Were the chili suppers enough to pay for the bills? No one knew.

Would she make it out alive? It was a 50/50 bet.

He was rolling through these thoughts as a nurse came in and told the family that things weren’t great.

“Please, God, let us keep her,” Rachael’s grandmother said in a quivering voice. “… We need her more than she needs us.”

She survived the surgery and continued to struggle forward. Each day, one small step in a positive direction. The family spent weeks holed up in the waiting room, each day, praying for a small miracle.

“She still has a chance,” her mom told the reporter. “But everything has to go perfect.”

Everything didn’t.

 

Years after that story ran, two things remain fresh in my mind.

First, that story wrecked my reporter kid in a way that I never would have imagined. He was about 20 years old at the time he wrote that story and he was never the same after it.

He had grown up in an America that preached the idea of hard work, sacrifice and prayer. If you wanted something badly enough and you worked hard enough, then you would always triumph, the story went.

He gave everything he had to telling that story.

The community gave everything they had to raise the funds.

The family sacrificed and prayed.

The girl died.

This wasn’t the script he was used to.

The parents were close to his age. He sympathized and became part of a story that consumed him. He couldn’t let it go.

Years later, I got in touch with him and found out it still haunted him in some ways. He was a serviceable reporter doing a good job and managing post-collegiate life.

“It’s funny,” he once wrote to me. “After all I’ve done in the years that have passed, I still remember that story. It’s always with me.”

The second and more depressing thing was the quotes from the family. They prayed and hoped and loved and more, but so many of the quotes came back to the issue of money.

They were trying to earn money.

They were trying to raise money.

They didn’t want to know how much this would cost.

They feared the costs associated with the life of their child.

At a time in which they clung to hope, the niggling fear of funding scratched loudly at the corners of their mind.

I can’t say for sure that they didn’t get the best possible care for their child. I have no idea if there was a “broke people” wing for folks without bulletproof insurance or if they had insurance it would have been better or faster or stronger care. I have no idea if that $20 kept their kid from landing in a safety net of government assistance and medical assurance instead of crashing into an early grave.

I can say, however, that isn’t a concern anyone should face while their infant’s life hangs in the balance.

 

Healthcare is a rather abstract concept to people who have it or don’t need it. If you are healthy or insured, chances are when Romney says, “We must rein in the skyrocketing cost of healthcare by repealing and replacing Obamacare,” it doesn’t mean much. It’s just a word like socialism, communism or whatever ism is on the outs at the time the writer is using it.

Obamacare. Like he’s the guy giving me my prostate check each year.

Obamacare. A Franken-word that smacks of too much government and not enough freedom.

Obamacare. A term inviting the icy scorn of those who believe they just hit a triple, when in actuality, they were born standing on third base.

And that’s exactly who Mitt Romney is and why it’s hard for me to take him seriously when it comes to problems that impact people who earn in a year what he took home in a day.

When he talks about working hard as a businessman, I’m sure it was never in a Missouri farm field, planting seeds for 10, 12 or 15 hours a day.

Sweating for life. Praying for hope. Losing both.

Thursday, Mitt Romney told us, “If I am elected President of these United States, I will work with all my energy and soul to restore that America, to lift our eyes to a better future. That future is our destiny. That future is out there. It is waiting for us. Our children deserve it…”

Today, Rachael rests in a small grave in a small town in Missouri with a marker noting she lived for 63 days.

Each one of those days, her parents had to worry about how much money it would take to keep her alive.

That can’t be our future.

It can’t be our destiny.

No one deserves that.

A Way To Help

Frequent commenter outrage_broken's friend was killed in the Aurora shootings. This is a donation site to assist the two little girls she left behind. 

I know you all know what to do. 

A. 

Do It For The Ponies

Remember the official First Draft pony? Back a million years ago when Holden and I decided we needed a pony to symbolize Bush's ever-diminishing hopes for a rise in his poll numbers, our pal Jay designed us our very own pony, Fluffit: 

You wouldn't want to make Fluffit sad, would you? 

Jay's competing for a small business grant so he can open a comic, toy and game store and spread fun and joy in the Milwaukee suburbs where fun and joy are in short supply. It's called Nerdvana. Because that's awesome. 

Youl don't have to give any money. You just have to click. He needs 250 votes to qualify for consideration. I know at least 250 of you enjoyed that pony. So go sign up, search for Nerdvana, and VOTE. Tell your friends. 

We can make this happen. For the ponies. 

A. 

Non-offensive headline goes here...

There’s a pretty good reason that when a university hosts a “blogging ethics panel,” it rarely invites bloggers to participate. It’s the same reason why journalists enjoy the ability to write to a niche audience that is likely to share their opinions.

It’s a lot easier to shape the debate if you’re only showing your side and you’re preaching to the converted.

Bloggers rant, professors chastise and on and on it goes.

These fights tend to devolve into what a friend once described as “Polish oral sex: You stand across the room from each other and scream, “Fuck you!” “No, fuck YOU!” until at least one of you is finished.”

The ongoing battle between professor Dan Reimold and Business Insider’s Henry Blodget has me wondering who will end up with the egg cream by the time we’re done.

The men have been shouting past each other regarding Reimold’s post on Business Insider’s Joe Weisenthal. Reimold opined that, despite the heavy accolades Weisenthal had received from his reporting peers, he wouldn’t recommend Weisenthal as a role model for his students. Among the reasons he lists: Weisenthal is plugged in to the point where his quality of life could suffer, he is often posting tons of information but not much with depth to it and his work is “wrong and sensational a lot.”

Blodget responded with a “your professor doesn’t get it” post, casting Reimold as some sort of simple curmudgeon before getting to some logic-driven points: digital storytelling is different than print, the skills are different and doing what Weisenthal does isn’t easy. Then, right on cue, he does the “hipster, cooler-than-you blogger closing line” that just always wins arguments:

So, if any of the professors' students have any of the attributes described above and are eager to work in the medium of the future instead of the media of the past, we'd love to hear from you.

This shit fight went back and forth for several days with Blodget saying Reimold couldn’t cut it doing what Weisenthal does, Reimold responding, “Oh, yeah, count me in!” and finally Blodget saying, “We’ll get you a desk next to Joe” thing. Apparently, we will see the fruits of this effort, as BI will document the whole thing.

Before we get too far into this, first let me say, gentlemen, I have no doubt you both have giant penises.

I would put money on the fact that you are each so large and girthy that you have likely had many complaints from your sexual partners and have had difficulty buying pants that do not have wheelbarrows in the front of them.

In fact, the sheer volume of air moved by your current dick-waving contest has likely generated enough wind power to solve the energy crisis.

I’m quite certain that your penises can be seen from space with the naked eye.

With that penile recognition and genuflection out of the way…

This kind of fight between “academics” and “professionals” happens way too often when each side decides it knows exactly what the other side is all about. In this case, however, the stereotypes don’t fit.

Reimold is a good and respected blogger on a number of topics, including student media. I frequently read his work and whether I agree with him or not, I believe him to be an honest broker of information. He is in no way the elderly crank who is sitting in his ivory tower, waving a cane at all these damned kids and their hippity hoppity music. He’s not pining for the days of lead type and line tape when he suggests that accuracy should remain the stalwart of media coverage.

Blodget isn’t the twerp that crusty academics associate with this interwebbing thing that the kids like. His site is informative and extremely rapid. When mistakes are made, they get corrected. The site showcases exactly what good professors have been harping about for years: relevant, useful and interesting information put forth using the best tool to accomplish the job, (text, hyperlinking, graphics, video etc.).

Blodget is a good leader as well. When someone comes after one of my newsroom kids in the way Reimold hammered at Weisenthal, you’d damned well better believe I’m reacting like Blodget did. When you call someone out by name, get ready for the shitstorm that will follow, especially if that person buys pixels by the barrel.

In reading back through his sarcasm-sluiced posts, I wish like hell Blodget had taken a higher road in his defense. It’s too easy to take the easy way out and paint the picture the way he did. To be fair, his approach didn’t make him wrong, just harder for the folks in the middle of the road to stand behind.

What both of these guys tend to miss, however, is that this “game recognize game” gambit won’t come close to providing closure on the topic.

Reimold won’t be able to come close to Weisenthal’s productivity or approach during this experiment. That’s not a rip on Dan, but rather a central point in his favor. What makes journalists like Weisenthal good at what they do isn’t the ability to mainline Red Bull until the last post is posted. It’s the interconnectivity that comes with covering a beat, becoming a known entity to sources and having good instincts on how best to punch out copy. Weisenthal has a hell of a head start in all of these areas.

What Reimold does is teach students HOW to become entrenched in a field like this so that they CAN be the go-to reporter on a topic. His work in student media shows that he’s growing the seedlings so they can bear fruit while keeping an eye on the entire farm. Criticizing him if he fails at this is like a chef criticizing a farmer for failing to prepare a good Soufflé. 

Even if he could go to-to-toe with Weisenthal, so what? He shouldn’t WANT to do this for the very reasons he stipulates to in his original post: speed can kill accuracy, trying to punch out too much leads to some vapid crap, being constantly plugged in can numb you to the big picture and finally you burn out from all this.

Doing this is like trying to tell kids that boxing can cause brain damage and then immediately accepting a challenge to train for a heavyweight title fight.

And what happens if Reimold blows the doors off the place? He doesn’t represent all academics, for sure, and his efforts can be viewed as that of one man, not a class of people.

(If you want to read more about this concept and the various ways intergroup relations works in regard to stereotyping groups and excusing individual cases that run counter to those stereotypes, take a look here. Sorry. Didn’t mean to get my academe in your blogosphere.)

If Blodget gets a grudging sense of admiration for Reimold, great. It doesn’t solve the problem that we need more people doing good work that is fair, accurate, timely and valuable. He should consider returning the favor and offering to teach one of Reimold's classes for a term. If this happens, let me know early enough so I can buy stock in Advil...

If Reimold gets a taste of the 24-7 life that is Weisenthal’s bailiwick, that’s fine too. It doesn’t solve the problem of how best to balance journalistic speed against other pressing issues. My great hope is that he finds a way to pair accuracy with speed and we can all start teaching it and calling it the Reimold Model.

Maybe the best we can hope for is that they’ll each look at the other when this is done, light up a couple cigarettes and ask, “Was it good for you?”

Your Help Is Needed

Internet, this is Ginnie. Ginnie, Internet.

See that doggie right there?

She belongs to the mother of someone who is very dear to me.  And, as noted above, your help is needed in this little doggie's case. I'll just let my friend say it:

My mom's dog, Ginger fell and broke 2 vertebrae in her neck. She is an adorable miniature brown dachshund who LOVES everyone! She needs surgery and has an 80% chance of a full recovery. The surgery could cost anywhere from $3000-$5000. She is only seven years old. Without meds, Ginger is in a lot of pain and if we cannot find a way to do the surgery, the only option is to put her down. The vets want us to decide today! However, my mom is on SS and is well below the poverty line. She loves her little dog very much and it breaks her heart that she cannot afford to help Ginnie.

So there you go.  You can go here to help however you can.  Select "send money," enter the amount you wish to send, toggle "friends and family," and the e-mail address to send it to is vhealey [at] ssc [dot] wisc [dot] edu.  I know that the world sucks and everyone's broke and we're all at the ends of our respective ropes, but please chip in for this.  Like the boss always says: we're all in this together, or we're sunk.  Okay, so I'm paraphrasing.  Shoot me.  Just go help this old lady keep her friend.

Back to your regular smartassery soon.

Best Healthcare In The World Blah Blah

One of the arguments we always heard during the healthcare debate was that America is the driving force behind every major medical advance in the universe, since forever. Indeed, Tennessee's own Junior Senator Bob Corker had the nerve to tell Canada's former Public Health Minister that Canada and France were mooching off of American innovation: we're the ones coming up with all the technological breakthroughs, which they benefit from! And dammit, it's unfair! It's our money paying to develop cures for cancer! Parasites!

Oh yes, that was embarassing. 

I thought of that when I read about a Cleveland researcher's struggle to get funding to start clinical trials of a promising breast cancer vaccine:

With additional funding, the Cleveland Clinic Lerner Research Institute immunologist could begin testing the vaccine in two groups of humans: women with advanced breast cancer and healthy women with a high risk of developing the disease.

The cost to just make the vaccine is an estimated $1.8 million, a small part of the $6 million for all of the costs associated with conducting a clinical trial approved by the Food and Drug Administration, Tuohy said.

As 2010 wound down, however, Tuohy's hope that he would be able to secure sizable grants to cover those costs vanished into thin air.

The National Cancer Institute -- which the year before provided him funding -- and Susan G. Komen for the Cure had rejected his grant proposals, ending any chance that human trials could be launched before the end of 2011.

Why is this happening in America? Because, the article tells us, competition for cancer research funds is "stiff." Only 12% of the grant proposals NCI receives are awarded funds. Komen funds fewer than 80 grants of the 1,400 proposals it receives. And Dr. Tuohy is developing a preventative vaccine, whereas the medical community is focused more on treatment for existing cancer. Apparently prevention goes against the grain in the medical community.

This is the greatest healthcare system in the world? Bah. A paltry $6 million to test a promising breast cancer vaccine? We can't do this because why? With all the money we spend on crap at the Pentagon we can't scrape together $6 million for a preventative breast cancer vaccine? The Army spent $7 million sponsoring NASCAR driver Ryan Newman last year. We can do that but we can't fund clinical trials for a breast cancer vaccine? (On a related note: did you know the Dept. of Defense has a Breast Cancer Research Program? I didn't either. But no, they rejected Dr. Tuohy's application, too.)

So now citizens are pitching in. People, this story just restores my faith in America, it really does. Folks all around the country are holding fundraisers to help Dr. Tuohy, in what has to be the medical research equivalent of a pickle jar by the cash register. They've held garage sales, races, concerts, you name it. They've kicked in big money and little money. A sample:

Earlier this year, Judy Fitzgerald, a retired middle school teacher who lives in Portsmouth, R.I., sent Tuohy a check for $702, money raised from a 1950s-themed dance and items sold at a crafts fair.

These people are my heroes. You'd think our government or fucking GlaxoSmithKline or whatever would be able to cough up $6 millioni dollars for clinical trials -- hell, maybe WellPoint CEO Angela Braly could dip into her $13.2 million annual compensation, after all, isn't a breast cancer vaccine a lot cheaper in the long run for insurance companies than cancer treatment? But whatever. Free hand of the market, yada yada.

So once again the people step in when others have failed. It's not the most seamless or efficient way of doing things but we stumble along and eventually we get there.

The article has lots of links to donation pages if you're interested in getting involved.

Are there any questions? Why not?

Spent the past two days talking to a wide array of school-aged kids as part of various festivals, conferences and fairs. Once this post is over, I’ll pack a bag and head off to the Daily Cardinal’s 120^th anniversary celebration, for what is likely to be even more of the same.

I spend a lot of time with college students who are forced to take my classes. This is one of the downsides of teaching a class that is a prerequisite for pretty much everything else in the major. Some students come through and actually care about the material while most try to find a seat that is as close to the back wall as possible and the only question they ask is, “So, is this going to be on the test?” I tend to expect this, and when you add those factors into an 8 a.m. class, I understand that I’m unlikely to get a lot of enthusiastic engagement.

However, this week, I got the chance to work with student journalists at various high schools who were heading to our campus. They paid good money to hear me help them improve their papers and sit in a one-on-one environment. Since they came to me and actually paid to do so, I offered to answer any questions, deal with any issues or address any concerns they had or wanted to talk about first. In other words, let’s make this about you and what you want.

Silence.

They all looked like they were about to get “the rat treatment” from Game of Thrones if they were noticed. Their advisers, meanwhile, were prodding and poking them to say something/do something/breathe.

No dice.

I figured it was because I was and old guy and talking to old guys is uncool for high school students. However, when I checked with my newspaper staff, I found out they had a similar experience in leading the newsroom session. In fact, it was worse, as the visitors sat around and kept checking their watches/phones/personal digital devices.

“One interesting thing happened,” a kid told me in my class that next day, as she pointed at the girl next to her. “There was some 15-year-old kid who was totally hot for her. It was cute.”

Pondering that for a moment… 22-year-old college woman + 15-year-old high school boy = cute. 22-year-old college man + 15-year-old high school girl = criminal charges. Ah… to be young again.

Speaking of young, the last event of the week was Career Day at The Midget’s school. I’d kind of kept trying to blow this off so I didn’t have to go. The reasons were valid, at least in my mind:

1) I teach. They see that every day. That’s like telling people I’m a professional shoelace tie guy.

2) This would be the end of a week from hell, as the Missus was out of town at a knitting camp (don’t laugh… OK, laugh) and I had a list of stuff to do before I could head to Mad-Town for some fun.

3) I’m always afraid I’m going to not notice and say “fuck” or something in front of the kids. If you know me, you know that fear is logical.

Still, the Midget begged me, so I acquiesced. However, I decided to try a different strategy: I’d talk about the newspaper and the newsroom.

I got copies of the paper for them, after furiously reading them over for anything that might merit a call from the principal. What’s acceptable for college students isn’t necessarily acceptable for first-graders. Fortunately, they decided against running the story about the woman who assaulted the cop with a pink dildo, so I was set.

I got some reporter’s notebooks and pens for them and I even printed up “official” press passes that I put into clear plastic holders so they could wear them and be honorary members of our staff.

I packed all this crap into a box and headed over to the school for my 10-minute chat. In, out, on with life.

However, what I found made me smile all day.

As I was waiting for the kids to come back in from lunch recess, a boy about 7 years old, walked to the bubbler, took a drink and then noticed me.

“What’s in the box?” he asked with absolutely no pretense.

“Some stuff for my Career Day talk.”

“Hmm. Like what?”

“Some newspapers and… Do I know you?” I asked.

“Nope.” He walked away.

As the kids started coming in from recess, a good number of them passed me, with at least half of them stopping and asking, “What’s in the box?”

It got to the point that I half expected Brad Pitt to pop up with a handgun and start screaming, “What’s in the box? WHAT’S IN THE BOX?”

Once I got started telling them about life in the newsroom (the sanitized version), things went well. They found out what was in the box and appeared to be thrilled at getting paper, pens and something to wear around the neck.

I did my 10 minutes and left the requisite two minutes for the “Does anyone have any questions?” precursor to silence that would allow me to leave and go get lunch.

Instead, the kids were raising their hands and yelling out questions:

“Can we write stories?”

“What happens if the machine that makes the newspaper breaks?”

“How do you make the pictures get into the paper?”

“Why do you have to write about sad things?”

“Why doesn’t the newspaper paper feel like paper paper?”

On and on it went. About 15 minutes later, the teacher had to cut them off. They all kept their hands up, just in case she relented.

It was a stunning turn of events for me. I found myself wondering where was that unperceivable pivot in life in which we went from asking all the questions to questioning nothing? When did that unbridled joy of finding stuff out stop for us? What age was it that we stopped being forthright and nosy and started being shy or reticent? If my unscientific analysis is anything to go by, it’s somewhere between first and ninth grade and in my book, that’s way too soon.

We got this far as a country, a people and a planet by asking questions. Who says the world is flat? Why can’t we build a flying machine? What if we made people wear too much hair gel and call themselves disparaging pseudo-Italian names on the air? Some answers came quickly, others took time, but they all found a way to the surface because someone decided it was worth it to ask about something.

In social situations, too often we hear people say something that makes no sense and rather than challenge the assumption, ask the question or in some other way make it known that we’re not “with you” on that, we do the “Yeah, I know, right?” thing. I honestly think this is how Scott Walker is able to run ads about how shitty Milwaukee has been without ever being called on the fact he was the COUNTY EXECUTIVE for that area as well as the GOVERNOR for the state in which Milwaukee exists. Instead of saying, “Wait a minute, if Tom Barrett lost all those “Milwaukee jobs,” what were you doing for the county at that point to stop him/restore lost work? Was the county not losing anything?” we mutter and move on or do the “Yeah, I know, right?” thing.

Little kids aren’t afraid of telling you where the bear shit in the buckwheat. If they don’t get it, they don’t get it and they’ll tell you as much. If they don’t eating something, they’re not eating it politely with a “Mmm… Wow… What IS this?” smile. They’re shuddering and coughing like a shitty lawnmower and saying, “I no like this!”

And they’ll remind you of that each time you make it.

And they’ll tell their grandparents what kind of shitbag cook you are as well.

Most of all, they question things because they know they don’t know everything. Somewhere along the way, we figure we’d better know everything or at least not let on that we don’t.

At that point, we allow others who know less to talk more and do horrible things.

Why is that?

May The Farce Be With You

Sometimes I want to give the internet a hug:

Tommy Robinson took a few seconds on Sunday evening to make an observation about Twitter's homepage. "Welcome to twitter homepage has a picture of a mosque," he wrote. "What a joke #creepingsharia." Of course, Robinson isn't just any old tweeter, but the co-founder of the English Defence League, a far-right protest group. Tweet posted, Robinson no doubt wandered off to do other Sunday evening things; maybe plan a rally or two.

[...]

In less than 24 hours, #creepingsharia was trending, but what could have become a feed for EDL members and sympathisers to display their hard-hitting "evidence" of the rampant Islamisation of Britain, instead attracted the nimble fingers of sensible and funny tweeters, wittily but firmly telling Robinson and others of his ilk where to shove their ill-informed views.

From the mind of @microcuts_22: "I skipped breakfast this morning. Clearly fasting subconsciously. #CreepingSharia" and from @knownasbowman: "Muslamic bloke walked past on tiptoes #creepingsharia." From @LorrieHearts came: "Got rained on the other day, so pulled my scarf up over my head before realising that I'd become a victim of #creepingsharia." Each one a gentle squeeze of the hand, a tiny bit of silliness to ward off the insanity, and a quiet rebuke to the dangerous rhetoric being spouted by organisations like the EDL.

The cherry on this sundae? The image which prompted Robinson's original Tweet was not of a mosque but India's famed Taj Mahal. Woopsies.

I got a big laugh out of the #creepingsharia hashtag. Sometimes we forget that the ignorant exremists of the conservative fringe are not unique to the U.S. but are an international phenomenon. The trial of Norwegian murderer Anders Behring Breivik is a reminder of how dangerous this hatred is: Breivik claims his victims were not innocent teenagers, no, "these were young people who worked to actively uphold multicultural values," he told the court. That was their crime, in his twisted mind.

So yes, I realize this is serious business, and I'm not trying to trivialize it. But sometimes the best offense is a liberal helping of ridicule. Applied generously and frequently, humor is the most effective antidote to fear I know. It's hard to be scared of a boogeyman when everyone is pointing and laughing at the folks hollering about "creeping sharia." Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert are effective neutralizers of right-wing messaging, but we're all just as clever as those guys, right? 

And good grief, it's not like the right wing nutballs aren't giving us plenty of material, folks. Victoria Jackson's best comedy has been in her new self-appointed role as "citizen journalist." Here she is tiptoeing around the Murfreesboro, TN Islamic Center yesterday, peering in windows and looking for something -- anything -- scary. “It says take your shoes off and put them in the racks,” she reports. Oooh! Creeping Sharia indeed. Jackson was never this funny on SNL, folks.

So my challenge to everyone on the left this week is to use their creative energies for a little coordinated, well-executed mockery. Make 'em laugh -- it's better than crying.

 

Proud to be a New Orleanian

Carnival brings out the best and the worst in people. One of the NOLA bloggers, Amy Mueller, wrote about how her daughter was hassled and insulted at the Muses parade by a drunken college kid, which led to an outpouring of good, good, good vibrations as you can see in the clip below:

 

Throw Some Money in the Guitar Case

Frequent commenter Filkertom is busking over at the Great Orange Satan. I tell everyone I know about this song: 

A. 

Sweet Jesus, These People Are Insane

Fuck you guys. This is bullshit.

Well, it's February in Wisconsin. And that means it's time for the Polar Plunge. That's right. Every year, a bunch of totally insane motherfuckers jump into a hole cut into the ice as a way to raise money for the Special Olympics.

This year, friend of the blog and regular commenter Hobbes is taking the plunge. So throw her some cheddar so she can get wetter.

Also, our good friends the Mad Rollin Dolls also have a team jump. Help them out.

If you're interested in other individual donations, check out Andi or Patty.

Go give some money, bitches!

It's for a good cause, people. If you've got some spare change to toss this way, please do. I know the economy sucks and the world's caving in around us, but this is one of those little things that we do to make life better for the people served by this organization; also, it increases the total amount of joy in the world, which makes it a better place for all of us. Cough up a buck, you cheap bastards.

Secret Santa REVEAL!

Santas, unmask yourselves. 

A. 

The kids are alright: Star Witness

Because we could all use some inspiration:

These two high school students, Kate and Janelle, are seniors in the arts program at Peterborough Collegiate and Vocational School (PCVS), located in downtown Peterborough, Ontario, Canada. Earlier in the fall, district school board trustees voted to close the old (founded in 1827!) downtown fixture next year and move its highly-regarded Integrated Arts program to larger more modern Thomas A. Stewart Secondary School. The decision to close down the much-beloved PCVS sparked protest after protest in the community but it didn't seem much of anything was going to reverse the trustees' decision. A few weeks ago, just trying to draw more attention to efforts of their peers and the community at large to keep the school open, Kate and Janelle recorded their video, using the reverb in a PCVS stairwell to make Neko Case's already-atmospheric Star Witness sound even more haunting.

 

It worked. The video started getting forwarded around, someone tweeted it to Case, she re-tweeted, the video went viral, the story got blogged, re-blogged, and picked up in the media. To paraphrase Margaret Mead, thoughtful, concerned citizens (and teenage girls singing like angels) for the win!

On Monday, more progress: the Ontario Minister of Education appointed a special facilitator to review the policy and process behind the school trustees' decision to close PCVS.  Follow the PCVS story here.

 

Secret Santa Reminder

Tomorrow's the last day to get your SS gift into the e-mail. 

We'll do a thread on the 22nd where the Santas can reveal themselves! 

A. 

Reminder: Santa Entries End Today!

It's the last day to get yourself on the Secret Santa list! 

A. 

In The Jar

Jurassic Pork could use some spare cash, if you have any lying around. 

This economy ain't getting no better. 

A. 

'I don't like bullies'

Recall effort begins: 

On a recent weekday evening, about a dozen people gathered at a small clubhouse on Milwaukee's east side. These middle aged men and women came to be trained on how to circulate petitions to get the signatures needed to recall Walker. The mere mention Walker's name sparks a visceral negative reaction among them.

For retired police officer John Harrington, the anger runs deep. He says he opposes the state's new law requiring voters to show photo ID at the polls.

"The voter ID thing bothered me a whole lot," he said. "Besides I've had a lifelong aversion to anybody that beats up on people. I don't like bullies. I don't like bullies with money who have an office."

And that's about it. That's all this is. It's picking on the weaker kid to make your buddies laugh. Trouble for you is, the weaker kid is the club of the most of us these days, and as Hecate said last Tuesday when Ohio went down, "We are many. They are few." 

You can contribute here. 

A. 

Blanket the Earth

Rude Pundit has some ideas about how best to spend Black Friday.

Go forth and assist if you can.

A.

Guns + Penises + Anti-Recall Measures = JOBS!

In his inaugural address, Governor Deadeyes repeated to the point of laughability that Wisconsin was “open for business.” The importance of jobs could not be understated. In fact, if you played a drinking game with his speeches, you’d be better off taking “times Walker is on camera” than “jobs” for your drinking cue.

In calling a special session of the legislature, Walker promised that he would “focus like a laser” on jobs. Apparently, lasers must first do other things before they can hit that jobs target.

 Over the past few months, the legislature, which is controlled by Walker’s own party, has taken on a number of bills, none of which has anything to do with jobs.

Republicans have attempted to protect GOP targets from recall by trying to use the newer, more Republican-friendly redistricting lines.

They tried to make it harder for people to recall state officials by proposing a bill that required all recall petitions be notarized.

They put teachers' jobs in the hands of disaffected youth, by allowing for the use of standardized tests to help decide whether to discipline or fire teachers.(Did anyone ever take those tests seriously? I never did. Tried making patterns out of the dots a couple years in a row. Went from idiot to genius to idiot. I was then found out and my parents nearly throttled me.)

The senate passed a bill that demanded teachers in public schools promote marriage and teach abstinence-only efforts in sex-ed classes. (Question: What happens to the gay kids in the class who are told that marriage is important but can’t marry under our current law? Answer: They need to be less gay. Duh.)

They made a run at capping attorney fees in consumer litigation. Of course, it took the good folks at the Journal-Sentinel to point out that the representative who proposed the bill is actually on the “pay up” end of the stick in just such a claim.

In an effort of bipartisanship, the Assembly pushed forth a bill that would expand the rights of homeowners to kill people. (Because, hey, if we can’t get together on our right to bust a cap in someone’s ass, what has this country come to?)

This list could go on and on of “jobs-free” job-creation bills, but the most laughable one requires special attention. The Assembly debated for more than nine hours, deep into the night, over a contentious amendment that would remove race as a consideration for a college grant program.

 The problem? The state’s Higher Educational Aids Board stopped using race as such a factor about a year ago.

In other words, our legislature is wasting time arguing about something that doesn’t exist. And, to be fair, this amendment was proposed by Peggy Krusick, a Democrat, which goes to show that stupidity has no party affiliation in many cases.

Jobs have become for Walker what terrorism was for Bush: the brush-back pitch he throws at anyone who questions anything he’s doing.

Want to destroy unions? Hey, it’ll create jobs!

Want people to get angry at state workers? Those guys have cushy jobs!

Want to get kids to stop fucking? It’s about jobs! Hand… blow… rim… et cetera.

However, job creation has to be more than a sleight of hand, a statistical maneuver and a bumper-sticker slogan. People need to go to work. They need to make real money. They need to start picking themselves off the ground again as they begin to rebuild their shattered lives.

People elected you, Scott Walker, because… Hell, I don’t know… Why the hell did they elect you? I could ponder this for days…

Anyway, when you stood up and yelled about Wisconsin being “open for business,” people seemed to like it. They gave you the benefit of the doubt about your desire to see this state chip away a the unemployment rate. When you said everyone needed to focus like a laser on jobs, people seemed to like that too.

So worry less about keeping your job and start doing your job. Don’t worry about who can shoot what at whom, whether they’re packing a .44 Magnum or a Magnum condom. Stop thinking about whether some lawyer or a black kid is getting too much money.

Find that laser and aim better.

Texas fires: how to help

Just a few places to donate:

American Red Cross of Central Texas

Austin Pets Alive!

Capital Area Food Bank 

Austin Disaster Relief Network 

Catholic Diocese of Austin

More updated info available on Twitter: #centraltxfires or #txfires

via The Statesman:

118,400: Acres burned in 181 fires in the past seven days.

700: Approximate number of homes burned by wildfires in the past seven days, about the same as the previous nine months.

121: Number of mutual-aid system firefighters from across the state who are currently fighting the Central Texas fires, using 72 fire engines and 18 command vehicles.

40: Texas Forest Service aircraft deployed statewide, including 15 single-engine air tankers, 12 helicopters and 13 aerial supervision aircraft assets deployed to multiple fires.

8: Texas Military Forces resource groups deployed so far, including 2 CH-47 Chinook helicopters, 3 UH-60 Blackhawk helicopters assisting with fires in Bastrop County, 1 UH-60 Blackhawk staged in Austin to fight central Texas fires, 2 UH-60 Blackhawks assisting with the fires in Colorado County, and 3 ground wildfire support packages consisting of 4 dozers and 16 personnel each.

In addition, Texas Department of Public Safety emergency management personnel, highway patrol troopers, air assets and a mobile communications center have been deployed to Bastrop County, and the Texas Department of Transportation is providing personnel, equipment and fuel to responders. 

(If you feel the need to opine that Texans caught in these fires don't deserve your righteous offer of help, take that shit somewhere else.)

Rising Tide 6 Webcast

Okey dokey, it's the big day. This is RT's first webcast and hopefully everything will go relatively smoothly. Click here from 9AM CST on or forever hold your peace.

Latest shameless Rising Tide plug

Long time, no plug. The conference is coming up this Saturday and may well be the best yet since I'm only going to be onstage to introduce David Simon. Here's another tidbit: Athenae will be attending and staying in Dr. A and my guest room. Oscar usually likes to crush our guest's legs so she has that to look forward to.

Anyhoo, if you're interested in attending or donating to the conference click here. There will be a web cast and I'll post that information when it's available.

Below is a clip from the WWL-TV morning news wherein anchor Sally Ann Roberts interviews my friends and fellow organizers Bart Everson and Alli Dejong. WWL-TV is the big kahuna of local stations: its morning show kills the Today Show in the ratings. So, Sally Ann is the queen of the morning in NOLA as well as Robin Roberts' older sister:

 

The Week To Come and What's At Risk

WI "Budget Repair Bill" Protest (Feb 20-24?) Pt. 3 from Matt Wisniewski on Vimeo.

 

Tuesday night we'll be crack-vanning the Wisconsin recall election results, as well as hosting Scout/Jude/Doc updates from Wisconsin all day (or whenever they can check in amidst the madness). Be here, and follow along on Twitter, and generally watch, because this is something we've not seen in a while.

It's hard to overstate the importance of this. Phila wrote something which is deservedly making the rounds, about what we consider security and what we consider danger:

I hold this truth to be self-evident: Most of us will never find ourselves on the business end of an Islamic radical. Many of us, however, will struggle to stay housed and fed if we're too old to work, or we fall seriously ill. "National defense" that focuses on cartoon figures of ethnic menace, as opposed to the prosaic and preventable disasters that cause most of the actual suffering and death in this country, is a cruel joke, and I suspect its extremely dark humor is not entirely lost on heartless neo-feudalist chatterboxes like Lieberman and Coburn.

There were a lot of stories after 9/11, about how people who had previously thought they were safe now felt unsafe. I wanted to find everyone thus quoted and drag them down to where I worked, to where people needed no crash course in coping, to where people didn't suddenly feel unsafe because they had no feeling of safety to lose. We have built any feeling of safety we have on the backs of people like that, and presumed they shared our feelings of entitlement and security. Why should they, when we share none of their pain?

What happens in Wisconsin isn't just in Wisconsin. I have this tattooed on my arm now, no shit: Our fate is your fate. People are threatened, right now. People are scared, right now. What kind of world are we building? What kind of place are we living in? Before, in the Bush years, I felt like there was a genuine schism, between the kind of country Americans thought they had and the kind of country America was.

Now, watching Walker and Kasich and Scott, watching the Austerity Olympics, watching Obama running scared from every Teabagger he sees, getting the pointy end of smug Republican soliloquys about spending on programs most of them are in no danger of needing, I feel like most people know what kind of country we are. They know we're mean and paralyzed and small. They know we've talked ourselves into being unable to move, and either they can't see how we can get out of it, or they don't care if we ever do.

This is how it works: You start out just not doing one thing because it's too hard, and pretty soon you can't do anything. We are a country that cannot button our shirt in the morning because we actually cannot conceive of the process by which we would do that, no matter how many shots of brandy we take to steady our nerves. And into that steps a group of people that says, no more. That says yes, we know how things like this are supposed to work, and we're supposed to lie back and take it, and fuck that basically because no fuck no not today not while I'm alive this is just not how it's going to go and the way I know that is that I'm going to make it go otherwise and sit DOWN, asshole, I'm here now and your turn is over.

Into this national paralysis, into this world in which the one thing we cannot do is the only thing we really have to do, walked tens of thousands. On bikes and in cabs and on tractors and on foot, from sunrise to sunset, saying shove your war on America. Saying we are not going to be like this anymore.

They could have stayed home and written hectoring opinion pieces about how Americans and particularly kids today are just lazy and can't ever protest like the Egyptians or Greeks. There's quite the market for that these days. Instead of lecturing other people about how to stand up to power, they went out there and did it.

That needs to win right now. That needs to show, right now, to everybody who's threatened and scared by everyday, ordinary, animal greed that there is more than one way for things to go. That just because some knob in a suit on TV says we can't, we can't, we can't doesn't make it so. That inevitable's just a dare. That there's never too little time or energy to help others. That courage isn't a bowl of sugar with a bottom you can hit. That all actions are choices, and all choices are chances, and all you have to do is make them and the ground beneath your feet will shake.

That we don't back down. We don't back off. We don't back up.

Not. One. Inch.

A.

Rising Tide 6 Brass Band Panel

  


It's shameless plug time again, y'all. I'm not only one of the organizers of Rising Tide but a little birdie tells me that we're going to have a record turn out of First Draft bloggers this year.

Anyway, we've decided to do something completely different to end the conference, a panel discussing the NOLA brass band tradition that concludes with a performance from the TBC (To Be Continued) Brass Band. Here's how Cousin Pat described it at the RT blog:

The Brass Bands Panel will feature Lawrence Rawlins, band director of Roots of Music; Alejandro de los Rios, producer of the Brass Roots documentary; members of the TBC Brass Band Edward “Juicy” Jackson, Joe Maize and Sean Michael Roberts; moderated by writer Deborah Cotton and followed by a performance by the TBC Brass Band.

The conference takes place on Saturday August 27th at Xavier University. For more information and how to register CLICK HERE. Lunch will be catered by J'anita's at the Rendon Inn and served up by my dear friends, J'anita's owners, Craig and Kim Giescke.

Finally, here's a sample of TCB's music as filmed by moderator Big Red Cotton:

 

Today on Tommy T's Obsession with the Freeperati - Fiscal Follies (female) edition

Good morning, everyone!

Since Adrastos is busy with Rising Tide VI - Electric Boogaloo (shameless plug) and Kibitzer is still recovering from strolling into the iso chamber, noting the rotating red beacon lights, the warning sirens and the people rushing for the airlock in a frantic attempt to outrun the unleashed Freeper crazy - and then looking around saying "What's up?" while the toxic fumes engulfed him - I'd like to thank the erstwhile Elspeth Ravenwind (still sounds better than Wendy) for doing a yeowoman's job helping me get the insanity sponged off the walls.

Let's see what's cooking this week, shall we?

First of all - Freepers luvs them some Laura Ingraham.

I mean, luvs. 

Laura is on O'Reilly

Posted on Wednesday, September 02, 2009 7:49:33 PM by fatima

She is doing a great job and looks Beautiful.

1 posted on Wednesday, September 02, 2009 7:49:33 PM by fatima

Would you still love her if she looked Ugly?

To: fatima

She is one smart woman.

2 posted on Wednesday, September 02, 2009 7:51:40 PM by svcw (Legalism reinforces self-righteousness - it communicates to you the good news of your own goodness)

.

.

To: fatima

She is doing a great job and looks Beautiful.

She always does...and always does...

 

3 posted on Wednesday, September 02, 2009 7:51:50 PM by jessduntno ("Integrity is the lifeblood of democracy. Deceit is a poison in it." - Ted Kennedy (D-HELL)

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To: SoCalPol

Thanks.That’s means she is on the rest of the week.:)Love Laura.

14 posted on Wednesday, September 02, 2009 8:13:25 PM by fatima (Free Hugs Today :))

Get the picture?

"I love Laura and she loves me - She's as brittle as she can beee"

.

Now?

Not so much.

Why?

Laura Ingraham pushes back on Sarah Palin primary threat Politico ^ | July 29, 2011 | ALEXANDER BURNS

Posted on Friday, July 29, 2011 4:00:56 PM by ejdrapes

Conservative radio host Laura Ingraham, one of the high-profile certified non-moderates urging the GOP to support John Boehner's debt ceiling bill, leveled criticism at Sarah Palin during today's show for raising the prospect of 2012 primary challenges to House Republicans.

***************

No, Larua thank god

You're going to Hell for failing to capitalize "God".  Just so ya know.

we have people who stand on principle. Most of the time that's the reason we get half a loaf.

Metamucil can help you with that.

If it wasn't for the grass roots we'd be totally screwed. I do agree with her though that throwing out primary challenge threats right now isn't helpful. I can't believe Palin really thinks someone like Paul Ryan or Alan West should be primaried because they're voting for Boehner 3.0. So I'm not sure who that challege was directed at.

1 posted on Friday, July 29, 2011 4:00:59 PM by ejdrapes

.

.

To: ejdrapes

Ingraham argued in her broadcast that Palin's note was unhelpful to the GOP — and to the tea party

I have had about enough of Ingraham too.

 

Lindsey Graham's old girlfriend.

4 posted on Friday, July 29, 2011 4:04:40 PM by kcvl

.

.

To: ejdrapes

Makin’ friends inside the beltway there Laura? Don’t let the cash trump the ol’ principles.

12 posted on Friday, July 29, 2011 4:07:48 PM by Invincibly Ignorant

.

.

To: ejdrapes

Certified non-moderate?????????????????? The woman is a RINO!

The ultimate insult!! Could there be anything lower in the eyes of the Freeperati?

An unmarried RINO!

26 posted on Friday, July 29, 2011 4:13:15 PM by Doc Savage ("I've shot people I like a lot more,...for a lot less!" Raylan Givins)

 

.

More of The Battle Of The Babes after the folded faces, with gratutious Allen West (remember when they loved him, too?) bashing.

.

An open letter to Jessica King

Dear Jessica,

I don’t purport to speak for anyone but myself when it comes to your attempt to defeat Randy Hopper in this upcoming recall election. I don’t know if “a majority” of people agree with me or if people are “on my side” when it comes to this topic. However, as one voter (probably two, as The Missus and I actually agree for once), I wanted to let you know that we need you to be better than you’ve been. If your last run at this office is any indication, you probably need to listen to this. When you lose to a guy like Hopper by less than 200 votes, every vote counts.

I hate politics. I’m not keen on politicians. To me, they are like the dentist: you know they can do some good, but it’s likely they’ll hurt you and no one is really clamoring to deal with them. I almost married a city council rep once and listening to her and her friends chatter on and on about some Machiavellian maneuver they were planning to divide the city amongst themselves was exhausting to me. 

Still, when Hopper decided to screw this state, I figured it was time to screw him back. I signed the petition, voted for you in the primary and plan to vote again in the general.

Once the stage was set for your rematch, there was no holding Hopper and the Republicans back. Their ads attacking you were something to behold. The “63” ad, which PoliFact rated as “pants on fire,” was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen. The Hopper camp’s rationale that even though you voted against the pay increase, you were complicit in taking it because you eventually voted for a budget stretches credibility.

Their God-awful mailer material about you being “wrong for Wisconsin” was despicable. And I don’t think they could have found a photo that made you look any more like a lesbian trying to take a shit and pass a pool ball if they actually had a look-a-like lesbian doing so.

That’s Randy Hopper.

That’s not you.

That’s why your campaign offends me.

In both a TV ad and a mailer, you’ve attacked Randy Hopper for not paying his taxes. This is like playing basketball with a toddler and calling her for travelling: If you’ve gotta reach that far to win, you’ve got a major problem.

You’re quoting a 3-year-old article from the Beaver County Tidbit and you’ve bent the truth so far, even PoliFact had to rethink its category for this. The reality is he didn’t owe taxes so he didn’t pay them. We can go around and around on that if we want, but he’s not on the “List of Shame” for the state and no one says he did anything wrong in balancing taxes versus tax breaks.

Worst of all, this stuff is coming directly from your campaign. It’s not some hatchet-job PAC that is working on your behalf. It’s you.

Randy Hopper’s record is horrific. The only way it could be worse is if he voted in favor of slavery and the legalization of child porn.

He did vote in favor of Scott Walker’s ass-raping of this state budget.

He has consistently been against Planned Parenthood.

He took collective bargaining rights away from state workers, even though they in no substantial way impacted the state budget.

If you want to kick him in the balls on the personal front, he was living outside of the district for a while, after his wife found out about his affair with a much younger woman.

He got his mistress a job with the state and got her a 35 percent pay increase. Best of all, she never actually applied for the job.

Various sources reported that Hopper’s own wife and maid had signed the recall petition against him.

In other words, you’ve got plenty of fertile ground regarding Randy Hopper’s idiocy without having to almost make shit up. As it stands, you’ve really not done much in convincing me that this guy is horrific for Wisconsin. You’ve also not told me SPECIFICALLY what you’ll do to fix this Republican clusterfuck.

As much as I don’t want Randy Hopper representing me, I don’t like the idea of voting for someone just because they’re not Randy Hopper. If that’s the best your campaign can do, I feel bad for you and sad for this state. Our elections can’t be like this scene from “Hot Tub Time Machine,” where we tell ourselves “You’re better than this guy! Not by a lot, but a little!”  You’re not The Violator.

People like me throw our hands up when we see a system like this. We decide it’s better not to participate than to cast our lot with the lesser of two evils.

We want you to be good, not just better than the other idiot.

We want you to stand for something, not pull a Scott Walker and innocuously hang back until you’re elected and THEN breakout the shit hammer.

We want you to lead. We want you to speak. We want you to act.

Absent that, we don’t want you.

And that’s not what you want.

You’ve got about two weeks left to show Wisconsin you are what we need. You can show me that you’re better than Hopper by a long shot. You can give me a reason to vote.

Pull the stupid ad. Cut down on the bullshit hyperbole. Shine a light on Hopper and watch him scurry away like a roach.

Then, tell me, “I’m Jessica King. Here’s my plan.”

Best of luck,

Doc

They Just Can't Help Themselves

Not a role model, people.

Greetings again from Wisconsin, where the Republican Party, not content with going after working people, public transit, schools, air, water, soil, arithmetic, logic, and compassion, has decided that yet another special interest group has it too easy.

Puppies.

You read that right.  Puppies.

State Representative and Beelzebub's Cabana Boy Don Pridemore (R-Heartless) has taken it upon himself to craft legislation that will ease restrictions on puppy mills.

Again, you read that right.  You see, in 2009, the Wisconsin Legislature, in an inexplicable fit of decency, decided that these motherfuckers who breed hundreds of dogs, but don't care for them properly, shouldn't be allowed to profit off of the misery of dear old Canis lupis familiaris.  So they enacted (by unanimous vote, for fuck's sakes) a law that made anyone who had more than 25 puppies at a time subject to state licensing, regulation, and fees.  Everyone was happy; it's not like the supply of dogs has dwindled, but the government actually did something to reduce the amount of cruelty in the world.  Also, dogs that are cared for well while they're puppies grow up into healthier, happier adult canines.  They require, on average, far less medical care over the course of their lives, which means significantly lower medical bills.  (Note to Republicans: The same principle works on humans as well.)  Seems like a success story, no?

Fast forward to 2011.  My, how times have changed.  Representative Pridemore--who, in an extra twist that's guaranteed to make Baby Jesus cry, was a co-sponsor of the 2009 bill--has since decided that we just can't have the heavy hand of government interfering in the glory and majesty of the Free Market.  So he's proposing that the number of dogs you can have before you're subject to licensing and such be raised from 25 to 100.  Has there been any public outcry in favor of easing these requirements?  No.  Is there any justifiable reason for doing this?  No.  Does Rep. Pridemore get a lot of campaign donations from dog breeder interests?  I don't know, but that might be a good thing for an enterprising journalist to look into.  If he does, this thing reeks of payback.  If he doesn't, he's just a cruel and stupid bastard who thinks that there should be more suffering in the world, and who has decided that his vote of less than two years ago was an affront to some misguided principle.   

Here's hoping that this thing dies before it reaches the governor's desk.  But with the way the Wisconsin GOP is dedicated to pissing off anyone who ever voted against them and chopping away at the very notion of a decent society, I can't be sure.  If you live in Wisconsin, call your state representative and senator and tell them that this kind of idiocy needs to disappear.  And tell them what you think about the rest of the ridiculous GOP proposals that have been and are being enacted this year.

Where's that goddamned meteor, anyway?

The Tide Is High

Time for a shameless plug for Rising Tide 6 coupled with a swell Blondie tune. There are two more days to register for the conference at the low, low price of 25 smackers. It goes up to $30 on 7/1, which is still a good deal.This year's conference will take place on Saturday August, 27 at Xavier University in NOLA.

If you're interested in registering, please click here:

 

How To Help ND Flooding Victims

Per Chet:

Donate to the local Red Cross here.

There are, as there are in every disaster, displaced animals all over the place. The Central Dakota Humane Society is here.

The town of Minot is expecting another two to three feet of water TODAY.

A.

David Simon to speak at Rising Tide 6

One of my dreams as a Rising Tide organizer has come true: Treme honcho David Simon will be speaking at the conference this year. If you can stand the heat and humidity of a NOLA summer, mark your calendars for Saturday August, 27. For more information, please click here.

How to Help Alabama & the South

While I was at a journalism panel listening to people talk about the future of news for rich people (see Twitter for my irritability and rage at the usual direction these things take), the earth caved in yesterday:

Gov. Robert Bentley said there are 131 confirmed fatalities from yesterday's deadly tornado outbreak.

"We do expect that number to rise today. In fact, we're sure it will," Bentley said in a news conference this morning.

"We had a major catastrophic event here in Alabama with the outbreak of numerous tornadoes. We do have major destruction in the state especially in north Alabama," Bentley said.

Bentley has activated 2,000 National Guard troops to help with search and rescue efforts.

Here's one way to pitch in. Post others in the comments. And if you're down there, let us know you're safe, and if you need anything.

A.

Creating a Space for Leadership

Student protesters marching down Langdon Street at the University of Wisconsin-Madison during the Vietnam War era. UW Digital Collections

I wanted to follow up on something Jude touched on in his radio interview Monday, because it reminded me of a point Atrios made a few years back at a conference: That what we were trying to do, in the early days of blogging, was to create opportunities for our leaders to step up. I really took to that, all those years ago, the idea that maybe what we were doing was making a space for our politicians to safely step into, that we were showing the people in power that if they stood up for what they said they believed that we would be there, we would back them, that in some crazy sense it was okay and we would be there for them.

(How insane is that, by the way? I'm a girl with a web site, and I'm telling Harry Reid honey, it's all right, you can come out here with us?)

Then, of course, the war went on forever, and nobody did step up, and it became clear we were not only going to have to reinvent the media but reinvent our leaders as well and just plain do stuff ourselves because getting people elected to do what they said they wanted to do wasn't enough to get the stuff done, apparently. We created the spaces for them to step into. There is, and has been for years, a movement against the war in Iraq. There is, and has been for years, a movement against the war in Afghanistan. There is strong support for marriage equality, for reproductive choice, for collective bargaining rights, for all the things we hear on the nightly news are crazy lefty positions that are unrealistic.

Polling data tells us this, and we put ourselves out there in print and online and in the physical street to tell them this, and ... giant black hole. It's maddening, right? How everybody knows the right thing to do and nobody will do it? You couldn't have paid a Democrat with any name recognition to march with the anti-war activists. (Somebody might have a rude sign, of course.) While the Tea Party was feted by Republican royalty and Free Republic got a picnic on the White House lawn, Democrats cowered in their offices, afraid to join their base.

And then Wisconsin.

And people did step up.

Fourteen Senate Democrats did step up, and they said look at all these people in the Capitol who will love us if we listen to them. And as an added bonus what they're asking us to do is RIGHT. So let's do this. The Assembly Democrats did the same, fighting this bill not only every way that was reasonable and proper but fighting as if it truly mattered, fighting it every way they could. Hauling their desks out the windows so they could meet their constituents on the goddamn lawn.

And look what happened.

Yes, the bill passed anyway, bits of it. But Scott Walker's been kneecapped. He's a national joke. He can't go anywhere without being publicly reviled. His allies probably will be recalled. He probably will be, too. The bill's being challenged in court. Thousands and thousands of people across the country, in Michigan, Ohio, Missouri, are standing up. The Wisconsin 14 are national legends and local heroes, and most importantly, not a single person in Wisconsin, Republican OR Democrat, doubts what Democrats in Wisconsin stand for. They may not like it, but they know it for sure.

Imagine if Democrats in 2000, in 2002, in 2004, in 2010, had fought like that. Had fought to prevent the wars they later ran against not with everything that could be expected of them but with everything they had. Had fought the Bush tax cuts not with what was politically feasible but with what was possible, to the very extremity of what that word means. Imagine the place we'd be living in now. Imagine the things we would know.

And I guess the lesson I hope people with some modicum of power are taking from this, because I still have hope that somebody's taking a lesson despite years of getting it beaten into my head that our children is not learning, is that when you stand up things do happen. I get hardcore about this all the time on a personal, ordinary level, about how stupid it is to limit yourself when there's so much out there you can't control that limits you anyway, and expanding it out to the political level? See what happens when you tell the voices of reason to shut up and instead of doing what you want to do, do what you can do? See?

Thousands fill the Wisconsin State Capitol rotunda in protest of Gov. Scott Walker's "Budget Repair Bill" by Lacrossewi

See?

A.

How to Help, Japan and Hawaii Editions

Red Cross.

UNESCO, information and updates.

Text REDCROSS to 90999 to donate $10 to help Japan.

Post other organizations, suggestions, etc in the comments.

A.

New Zealand Blues

While we've been focused on events in Wisconsin and the Middle East, there was a devastating earthquake in Christchurch, New Zealand. It's a beautiful city that's been knocked on its ass.  If you'd like to help,  here's a link to a TVNZ article that suggests groups to donate to.

I know: it's a case of so many good causes and so little money. I have a bad case of that myself but I have friends in New Zealand and a special fondness for its people and culture: especially the great musicians Tim and Neil Finn and Dave Dobbyn. Here's a Crowded House song in honor of those who perished in the Canterbury Earthquake of 2011:

 

 

Further Updates From Wisconsin's War On Workers

Do you really want this to be your model, Wisconsin?

Greetings all.  The more geographically inclined of you may recognize that the above map is of the state of Mississippi.  Or, you know, you could have just read it right off the map.  You people are clever like that.

Anyway, that's my home.  I was born in Biloxi (my French Creole ass), and spent most of my childhood on the Gulf Coast.  I lived so far south that you'd have to get your feet wet to get closer to the equator.  I, like a quarter of my fellow Magnolia staters at the time, grew up in poverty (Down to just one in five now!  Woo!).  I went to high school there, then got the hell out thanks to the US Navy.  But eventually, I returned (for a number of reasons too complicated to detail here) and went to college in Hattiesburg, MS.  Then I bagged ass again, and ended up in Wisconsin. 

Being from Mississippi is usually not something to brag about, because Mississippi is a national joke.  People in Tennessee, Alabama, and Louisiana are fond of saying "Thank God for Mississippi," which is kind of like a second-grade dropout teasing a first-grade dropout for being ignorant.  But you get the point.  It's America's third world.  It routinely comes in at or near dead last in all desirable measures of health, safety, prosperity, and, well, every goddamn thing.  Naturally, the state comes in at or near the top in all undesirable measures of the quality of life.  Sure, the food's great, and the musical legacy is incredible, but, you know, Muddy Waters can't make up for the fact that the state is 50th in median income and 1st in percentage of residents in poverty.  Funny how those two might go together like that.

Mississippi, though my home, is a shithole.  I know, I know.  Some of you are going to bitch about my casting aspersions at the place.  But I know the place.  I lived there for a long time, and I drove around that motherfucker, so I've seen lots of different corners of the state.  I've also read a metric butt-ton of literature that explains just how fucked the place is from the perspective of anyone who isn't already rich.  Now think--what sane, intelligent person wants to take Mississippi as a model?

If you said "Scott Walker," you're wrong.  He's not sane or intelligent.  But he does want to make this state into Wississippi, so give yourself partial credit.  By busting up unions and giving the state over to businesses that are free to rape the hell out of the land, water, and laborers, he wants to recreate the conditions of the good ol' Hospitality State right here. 

If he starts importing fire ants, I'm issuing a general call to arms. 

Now--regarding yesterday's gigantic demonstrations.  I've seen estimates that the anti-retrograde, pro-human crowd numbered from 60,000 to 80,000.  I believe we'll get a more reliable estimate in a day or two.  The tea party bootlickers were here as well, and if there were 2,000 of them, I'd be impressed.  They just didn't show up in force.  No one saw Breitbart, although he may have been distracted by one of our many lovely taverns (yes, that's a cheap shot), and Sarah Palin couldn't be bothered to make a trip where there wasn't a substantial honorarium involved (that's not really a cheap shot at all).  

And even though they were small in number, those motherfuckers were MAD, son.  I haven't seen a group of white folks that pissed off since the OJ verdict.  That said, I only saw one instance of someone losing his cool.  It happened when some of the anti-worker folks were marching around with us--which, you know, more power to them; I wouldn't want to be the one union advocate surrounded by 1,000 tea partiers.  Well, one of the pro-human protesters called a tea party guy an asshole, which really wasn't called for.  And the person so insulted kind of lost his shit (he was wearing a Green Bay Packers shirt, so he apparently has no concept of irony).  The mad tea party dude started walking toward the guy who insulted him, yelling loudly and gesticulating pretty intently.  But a number of people got in between them and cooled the guy out a bit.  Then the cops pulled the tea party guy aside and told him to chill out.  No arrest was made, and no one was ever touched.

So that's the extent of the unrest that I saw.  The angry guy's buddy was walking next to me, so I started talking to him (I was carrying a sign that said "Veterans for Labor" and wearing an old uniform cap, so I figured I could get away with chatting to anyone).  He was a nice enough guy, but angry because he thought public sector workers were overcompensated regarding pay and benefits.  So I just, you know, talked with him.  He was pretty misinformed about what public workers actually get, and I told him what I knew about my profession, the state of  public employees in general, and the importance of collective bargaining.  It was a nice, polite, peaceful exchange.  I told him that I appreciated him being there, and that I wanted good things for him in his workplace, as well.  Actually, I said that to a number of counter-protesters yesterday.

I don't know if I reached him at all.  He'd been pretty thoroughly lied to, and was envious of what he thought were unjustified perks for public union workers.  So I asked him this--instead of wondering why I do have something, why don't you wonder why you don't?  Yes, that's Athenae's constant refrain here, and I shamelessly appropriated it for myself.  I told him that I wanted him to have a good pension and benefits, and that stripping it away from one group doesn't do anything to make anyone better--it just increases the misery in the world, and elevates no one.  I let him know that I wanted the good things--the roses, not just the bread--for all workers, and that if we all acted in concert, we had a better chance to secure those blessings.

Again, I don't know if I made an impact yesterday, either marching or talking with individuals.  But I'd rather try and fail than sit on my ass and do nothing. 

I'll be back today.  The weather is a crappy wintry mix today, so there will probably be fewer protesters out in that mess.  But come find me if you're here. 

UPDATE:  FUCK YEAH CHARLES WOODSON!  Now tell Aaron Rodgers to get on board.

Something You Can Do to Change the Conversation

Reader Sue sent this idea along. If businesses don't have demand for their products, it doesn't really matter what happens to their taxes because they won't have the money to pay anybody anything. So if you support the rights of unions to organize, in Wisconsin or in your state, you can send your favorite local business the following letter:

Wisconsin’s week in review

To quote Alec Baldwin from “State and Main” after the traffic crash: “So, that happened…”

I spent the beginning of the week explaining the reason behind this debacle in a simple way: The Democrats care too much about what everyone thinks while the Republicans don’t give a shit about what anyone thinks. I ended the week finding that only half of that is really true. The Democrats actually did something we didn’t see coming. They put their hand into the bag and took out a stone and slung it. Whether it topples the Philistine remains to be seen.

Meanwhile, the Republicans figure this will end quickly once the Dems run out of 8-tracks to listen to near Bloomington-Normal or when Mark Miller drinks one Vanilla McShake too many and fumigates the VW Vanagon.

While Athenae is making up here “Run, Sconnie, Run!” shirts, here’s a brief look at the weirdness you deal with when you a) can think, b) are a state worker and c) have crazy-ass friends all over the political spectrum:

Dispatches From Wisconsin's Class War

Bread and roses. And collective bargaining.

Hello hello faithful readers.  I've been part of this truly glorious stand in Madison for the last week.  And, well, what to say?  It's heartening and wonderful to see regular people finally say ya basta and stand up for themselves.  The new governor here really stuck his dick in a hornet's nest, and he's too dumb to pull it out and run for the medicine cabinet. 

Readers here are probably aware of what's been going on.  What started as a smallish protest on Monday has exploded.  25,000 people--not just from Madison, but from all over the state--were here on Thursday.  And word on the street is that even more will be here today.  Buses are coming from New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Kansas, Nebraska, and lots of other places--buses packed with regular Americans who just can't stand another assault by the billionaires.  The state's Democratic senators lammed it to Rockford, IL, so that the governor's odious and misnamed "Budget Repair Bill" wouldn't pass without the people getting a chance to voice their concerns. 

The crowds have been amazing.  Cops, teachers, firefighters, students from all educational levels, clerks, secretaries, iron workers, builders, and plenty of non-union workers who have no desire to see their fellow Sconnies take another rich fist in the ass have been out peacably every day to let themselves be heard.

And, finally, people are noticing.  It took three days of massive and peaceful citizen demonstration, but the national press is finally here.  (I'm not going to get sidetracked by bitching that anytime you get six assholes on scooters with teabags hanging off of their hats, you need sunglasses for the kleig lights.  Oh no.)  Rachel Maddow is the first person I've seen draw a straight line from the governor's proposal to Citizens United.  I figured that shit out on Monday, but I don't have a goddamn TV show, so I wasn't able to take to the airwaves.  A lot of the national press initially and completely missed the point, but there's evidence that some outlets are starting to understand that this isn't teachers pissed about a benefit cut--it's people, lots of people, mad as hell about another assault by the real "haves" on everyone else in the state. 

These protests have been passionate and energetic, but, even in a crush of 20,000 bodies, there's never been any sense of danger.  Some local businesses have donated free food and water.  The AFL-CIO and some of the building trades have been handing out enough bratwursts to give headaches to cardiologists.  And the cops--the cops have been marvelous.  Unlike The Greatest And Only Real Protests That Ever Happened I Mean The Sixties Man When There Was Real Love And All, there's no antagonism between protesters and cops.  Hell, some of the protesters are cops.  Because they know that they're in this, too.

It's fucking beautiful.  And some of the rich folks must feel an uncomfortable sensation in their guts, one they haven't felt for a long time.  What is that, rich folks?  Gastroenteritis?  Mudbutt?  No, motherfuckers, that's fear.  You're worried.  You might still win this one.  The deck is stacked heavily in your favor; it always is.  But when everyone says enough, you can't beat, fire, or imprison them all.

And you know, maybe they will win.  I don't like getting hopeful; I've lived long enough and in enough wrong places to be intimately familiar with crushing disappointment.  Maybe this is the last gasp of a dying moment, the final paroxysm before the blood gets completely sucked out of the workers of America.  But god damn it, if that's the case, I'm happy we're gong down fighting.  And lest you think I'm overly pessimistic, please note that it seems there is a chance here to do something remarkable.  I don't want to go full metal hippie on anyone, but there's something in the air.

Conspicuously absent from any of this:  "leaders."  The highest-profile sympathetic politician here to date was the Mayor of Madison.  And when he arrived, people acted like he'd just won the Super Bowl and beaten the alien invasion at the same time.  We have seen no US Representatives or Senators.  No one from the Obama administration has dared show up.  The only person approaching a celebrity that has appeared is Ed Schultz.  As usual, the people lead, and the leaders follow.  I think it's safe to show your faces now, O Corageous Heroes Of The Left.  Don't worry.  We've already prepared the ground.

I'll be back out there this afternoon with the indefatigable Scout, recording more facts, feelings, and images.  Solidarity, brothers and sisters.  And enjoy this hippie music:

 

That's all the hippie stuff you'll get from me today, I promise.  And sorry about all the tags; this shit covers a lot of ground.

Guns, Guns, GUNS!

The screeds about “inalienable rights” and gun control have been enough to make my brain bleed lately. We have 27 amendments to the constitution, all of which tell us something about our rights. That doesn’t even count all the shit in the constitution itself. And yet, here we are. Again. Talking about the Second Amendment. Again.

There’s apparently no good time to talk about guns in our society. When people are complaining about Jared Loughner and his whack-job antics, they are accused of “politicizing a tragedy.” Unfortunately, we tend to have too many gun tragedies to ever have a socially acceptable point in time to talk about this stuff. However, on the rare occasion that we’re not dealing with a tragedy involving a gun and people try to talk about guns, they are told it’s not the right time. After all, nothing bad has happened recently with guns, so trying to limit them in some way will just rankle the NRA crowd. Someone get Joseph Heller on the phone…

Anyway, instead of turning this into a rambling screed of its own about guns (which I don’t understand the value of) or personal freedom (which I don’t think we pay enough attention to), here’s an attempt at peace in our time. Here’s a shit ton of stuff you can do that is “inalienable,” guaranteed by our founding fathers and that doesn’t involve a weapon that can be used to slay 6 people and injure a dozen more in a matter of seconds:

- Say a prayer for Gabrielle Giffords and ask that she recover for the sake of herself, her family and our country. Or, if you don’t believe in religion, don’t do anything. You’ve got that right as well.

- Hire a lawyer just because you can. You have the right to counsel. Talk about the weather, taxes or if the Brewers new pitching rotation will get them over the hump this year. Leave a couple C-notes on the nightstand and feel good about yourself.

- Refuse to paint the garage this weekend. Remind your significant other that slavery has been abolished. Then, go sleep in the garage for a week until your spouse forgives you.

- Roll up on a battalion of Marines, flip them all the bird and scream, “I don’t have to quarter you! I don’t have to quarter you!”

- If you are of a non-white race, go vote for something. If you are a woman, do that too. If you are a minority woman, vote twice. If you are in Chicago, vote multiple times after you’re dead.

- Pay your fucking income taxes. If you’re so excited about your right to bear arms, pony up for the check. The amendments can’t be a Chinese Buffet of rights. You can’t have any pudding until you eat your meat.

- Go have a drink. You can. It’s legal. If you’re 21. Or you’re not in Utah. (I only made up part of this.)

- Petition your government for the redress of grievances. I’ve already written my letter to the president asking that LeBron James have his ACLs removed in a manner commensurate with the surgery scene in “Law Abiding Citizen.”

- Write a comment here and yell at me for this. It’s free speech. Or freedom of the press. Or some other freedom we tend to overlook when it doesn’t involve the extraction of a weapon from Charlton Heston’s cold dead hands…

Another Thanks to the Warmth Project Donors

Here's a warm fuzzy for this Wednesday morning: A thank-you letter from the Village Pantry, for which we raised funds prior to the holidays. I kept meaning to post it but then the scanner went on the fritz and iPhoto was being a pain in the ass and now it's all straightened out so:

Well done, blog.

A.

First Draft Warmth Project: We're From The Internet. We're Here to Help.

Or something along those lines is what I told the Evergreen Park folks this morning when I dropped off 30-plus coats, heavy sweaters, fleecy things, warm fuzzies and all, at the Evergreen Park Community Center, along with a check for $360 for the village food pantry. According to the folks doing intake, that'll be enough to buy food worth 16 times that. Their coat drive ended well, too, despite its rocky beginnings: 300-plus coats. The newspaper story that inspired us inspired a lot of other people to dig through their closets and find room to make others warm.

 
Coats. LOTS of coats. There were coats in the back seat, too. My house looked like the Burlington Coat Factory crossed with that Hoarders show. It was awesome.

One of the things I really admire about all of you is that faced with the opportunity to despair, you pick up and work. You find something to do. You hammer away on your part of the world and make it into a new shape. Don't ever think that's nothing. You gave a lot of people a warm holiday today. Thank you all.

A.

Black Friday Alternatives

All right, who out there among our readership makes things, sells things, can link us to a storefront so we can look at your wares? I'm always up for getting presents from someone I know instead of a giant store.

Think of this as a store-whoring thread.

A.