goddess of clarity: a blog about politics, culture, and serenity

Archive: October 25 - November 7, 2004

November 5, 2004 — 11:50 EST

I've eaten Pop Tarts out of the vending maching for the first time in months, I've drank quite a few white russians, and I've spent a couple of extremely unproductive days at work. But today, to use a Bushism, I believe I may be "turning a corner." Thanks to Jon Stewart (and those white russians) I was able to laugh last night for the first time since Tuesday. I think my mental state is improving, from miserable to merely depressed. So I'm stealing a page from Michael Moore's blog today.

Top 10 Reasons Not To Slit Your Wrists

1. The Eagles are undefeated.
2. The extended version of Return of the King hits the stores December 14 (50 minutes of new scenes and FOUR commentary tracks, baby! That's at least a weekend of happiness right there!)
3. At least there's no way that Dick Cheney can run in 2008, at least not without the help of holographic technology and a small army of mad scientists.
4. Now that the "gay backlash" is firmly underway, watching Queer Eye for the Straight Guy reruns feels like a revolutionary act rather than simple laziness. Power to the people (and where did you get those shoes?)!
5. A cabinet reshuffle may give Attorney General John Ashcroft more time to pursue his singing career. And though it may not seem that way, Ashcroft's singing is a lot less dangerous than his policies.
6. At least we didn't lose ground in the Senate ... oh, wait, we did.
7. Well, at least they didn't gain ground in the House ... oh, hang on. They did.
8. I'm starting to falter a bit here ... um, trees are pretty? Yeah, that's true. Trees are still pretty. Whew.
9. ...need white russian....
10. Before curling up in a fetal ball and sobbing again, remember that 49% of the people who voted in this election voted for somebody other than Dubya. "Broad national mandate," my ass! Bush won exactly ZERO states in the Northeast and ZERO states on the west coast, and ONE state in the Great Lakes (albeit a big one.)

This country is still as divided as is ever was, with the difference being that more people were engergized by this election than ever before. It's just that the crazy Jesus people were more engergized than we were this time (they are an excitable bunch, I hear). Those of us on the other side of the crazy Jesus divide need to hold these guys to account (to use another Bushism). And we can't do that while washing down Pop Tarts with white russians. Pampering time is over! Pissed off time begins now!

—lori.

November 3, 2004 — 15:16 EST

It's a beautiful day outside. The kind of crisp, cool, bright, autumn day that is one of the things I like best about the Northeast. The sharp light of the sun will make me happy, I think. If not that, surely the crunch of leaves under my boots and a tall cinnamon chai will do the trick.

They do not. The day has been a complete write-off; I've gotten nothing done at work save for a quiet office rant with a like-minded co-worker. I have a conference committee meeting in about an hour and I'm going to have to keep my mouth closed because I'm afraid of what will come out. And if there are any smug Bushies among the committee members they would do well to do the same because today, I may just start knocking heads.

I just don't know where to begin. I don't know what to do or think. How could so many Americans, knowing what they know now, vote for this guy again?!

My theory is this. Bush has exactly two things going for him: that bullhorn speech at the ruins of the World Trade Center, and the fact that he is a born-again Christian (or claims to be). That's it. Take away the bullhorn moment, and the whole strong leader swagger myth is punctured. Take away the evangelicals ... actually, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. Could we just take away the evangelicals? Maybe put them on their own island somewhere where they can pass as many ballot initiatives banning gay marriage as they want?

I've said it before, but the religious tinge of this is what really scares me. There are people among us, educated people with jobs, who believe that one day they we be sucked up into the sky while the rest of us are left to face the Tribulation. What?! And these people vote, apparently in droves. And they vote for God's man in the White House, George W. Bush. I really don't understand the logic. "Well, my wife lost her job and now the kids have no health insurance, but the president has Jesus in his heart so I'm voting for him."

So in short, I blame Jesus.

—lori.

November 3, 2004 — 12:28 EST

Kerry just called Bush to concede the election. It's official. It's over.

Some post-election haiku:

Absentee ballots
Lawyers shuttle to Cleveland
But the Smirk remains

—lori.

November 3, 2004 — 03:17 EDT

Election Night, 6:30pm: I just got in from the gym and am settling in for tonite's festivities. Between voting this morning and working out this evening, I am feeling so self-righteous that I’ve decided the leftover Halloween candy I’ve been snacking on today doesn't count.

Mr. Goddess just returned with the take-out Thai food and a couple bottles of wine. He's such a gem. It's a shame he can't vote. I think I'll give him my "I Voted Today" sticker so he can feel like part of the process.

The first polls close in just under half an hour now. They're mostly in Bush states like Georgia and Kentucky, so we won't know much early. I really, really, really think John Kerry is going to win. Having said that, the small dark corner of my brain that needles me with doubt and negativity just will not go away. Gotta go for now. The chicken panang awaits.

7:00pm: CNN projects Indiana, Kentucky, and Georgia for Bush, and Vermont for Kerry about three seconds after the polls closed in these states. Wolf Blitzer and Jeff Greenfield are standing in front of a wall of video screens, maps, and charts that would give any self-respecting James Bond villain wet dreams.

7:28pm: Jeff and Wolf are taking a stroll along their "Wall of Data," going state-by-state figuring out the various mathematical scenarios. "If Kerry wins this and loses that, then Bush can still win even if he loses that but not this." Polls just closed in West Virginia, Ohio, and North Carolina. West Virginia goes for Bush. They haven't actually shown any real numbers of real votes yet. I've always liked that part. "With 2% of precincts reporting, Kerry is up 890 votes to 768. The 768th voter, I believe his name is Gary, said to say hi to his wife Susan, so hello, Susan."

7:51pm: Switched over to PBS. No flashing Wall of Data over on PBS, no siree. We have historians Mark Bechloss and Richard Norton Smith, thank you very much. And of course the dulcet tones of Jim Lehrer. Not for long, though. A Nova documentary on volcanoes is on at 8pm. Way to serve the public interest, PBS.

8:00pm: A new slew of states have been projected based on exit polls and Kerry is now leading in the electoral vote, but this doesn't really mean anything yet. Wolf had a momentary glitch in his Wall of Data, and the CNN Web site was actually updated faster than Wolf was able to announce the projections. Anderson Cooper, Boy Reporter, just reported Barak Obama as the projected winner of the Senate in Illinois. Which means we'll have to wait another four years for the traveling Alan Keyes Insanity Show.

8:20pm: Bill Hemmer is using the "Telestrator" to show the Florida vote broken down county-by-county. Perhaps later in the evening, CNN will be going to the X-Tron 3000 to vaporize Aaron Brown. We can only hope.

8:23pm: God, Aaron Brown is still talking. Please, make him stop, Wolf. Please. Oh, good. Vanessa Kerry is on now. Whew, that was close. I can only take "Arrogant" Brown in small doses.

8:45pm: Bush campaign manager Ken Mehlman is prattling on about how great things look for Bush in Ohio and Florida. I just noticed that Ken has the opposite smirk problem that President Bush has: where the right-hand side of the president's lip curls down, the left-hand side of Ken's mouth curls up. Maybe between the two of them they have a normal face.

8:52pm: MSNBC is reporting that the lines in Ohio are so long, with people still in line after polls have closed, that a judge has ruled that county precincts have to give these people paper ballots so they can vote now. Apparently people have been in line for up to five hours now, and are getting frustrated. How is that going to work? Just write your vote on a piece of paper and throw it in a pile? I think I’ve just felt my first rumblings of fear….

9:00pm: My state of New York was projected for John Kerry about nine seconds after the polls closed at 9pm. No real surprise there, says Wolf. Good to know my vote really matters.

9:35pm: I read somewhere that John Kerry cannot win if he loses both Ohio and Florida. He can technically win, but the math gets really complicated. Right now, the early actual numbers have Kerry losing both Ohio and Florida, although the exit polling has Florida more or less tied and Ohio going for Kerry. Scary feeling growing. Dark spot in brain throbbing…need more wine…

9:50pm: Bush is on TV giving a "statement" from the White House. He talked to Barney the dog for a bit and then said how confident he was he would win. He even laughed that silly little giggle of his. Honestly, I've never had this kind of visceral reaction to another individual human being before in my life. He literally makes me want to crawl under the blankets and either cry or scream into my pillow.

10:25pm: Ralph Nader is on CNN. There is something wrong with his mike and his voice is silenced. How metaphoric. I voted for Nader in 2000, albeit from the relatively safe Democratic stronghold of Washington state. And it's really a shame. I agree with so many of his positions. I'm sorry, Ralph. You're right. You're right on a lot of things. And I used to defend you against people who, in 2000, said I was wasting my vote by voting for you. But Bush is just too scary. Sorry.

10:30pm: A quick flip to CBS for comic effect. "Dangerous Dan" Rather, as we used to call him when I worked at MSNBC, is at it again. Right now he's pointing to an electoral map with his pencil, a very low-tech version of CNN’s Wall of Data. "Put on a cup of coffee, we could all be here for awhile." Thanks, Dan. Will do.

10:51pm: Yeah! My home state of Pennsylvania has just been called for Kerry. About friggin' time, too! They've had Kerry up by double digits in both the real count and the exit polls for hours now. And three of those 1,630,352 votes cast so far belong to my parents and my sister. Way to go, guys!

11:00pm: California goes for Kerry. Thank Christ. It's starting to look like my original prediction of chaos and pandemonium is close to coming true, while my late afternoon optimism is fading.

11:12pm: Fox News still hasn't called California for Bush. I guess they're waiting for Arnold to swing it for Bush.

11:26pm: IM'ing my friend Cara in Seattle. I think we're both getting slightly frazzled. She reports an awesome Rather-ism: "This race is hotter than a Times Square Rolex." That guy kills me.

11:41pm: Judy Woodruff reports that inside sources in the Kerry campaign say Florida has gone to Bush. Mr. Goddess says he thinks Ohio is gone too. He thinks the election is over. He goes to bed. He is pissed. I am cautious.

11:50pm: Cara informs me that ABC just called Florida for Bush. How did everything go so wrong so fast?

12:10am: Uggg. CNN just projects Florida for Bush.

12:24am: "Close, close, close. Ohio's where it is." That's what we get from "Dangerous Dan," chewed pencil and all. Folksiness aside, I think Dan is right. Ohio is the new Florida, and it's gonna get ugly.

12:39am: This really sucks. It all comes down to Ohio, and it looks like Kerry is doing well in the heavily urban counties, but not well enough. Mr. Goddess has already gone to bed. I don't know how I'm going to comfort him if Bush wins. The only reason he lives in this crazy country is because of his undying love and adoration for me. How do I explain our basic insanity as a people? Wait. Mustn't. Give. Up. Hope. Kerry is up in Nevada and New Hampshire, in addition to Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota. That's 46 votes total. Course, none of this matters much if Kerry loses Ohio.

12:52am: Dangerous Dan: "it's de-lightful, it's de-licious, it's de-lovely for Bush," and now he seems to have moved on to a mechanical pencil.

1:01am: Fox just called Alaska for Bush and gives him a total electoral vote count of 269. Brit "Evil" Hume seems to be close to calling Ohio as well. Now Cara informs me NBC just called Ohio for Bush. What the hell?!

1:12am: I can't believe this. I can't fucking believe this. CNN is now talking about the Democrats in the past tense, and saying that if Kerry loses Ohio he can only hope to tie if he wins everything else. I was feeling so good, for weeks now. Even more so since this morning. Why? Why?!

1:25am: And more good news. CNN just projected that Republicans will retain control of the Senate.

1:30am: I've moved on from wine to tapioca pudding. I have to go to work tomorrow. But I can't go to bed. Wait a minute! Fox is reporting that the Kerry campaign is contesting the call of the Ohio race. Carl Cameron can barely contain his contempt when describing the thousands of democrats "descending on Ohio to keep this alive." Screw you, Carl Cameron!

1:33am: My former home state of Washington was just called for Kerry by CNN. Yeah, Pacific Northwest.

1:56am: CNN and ABC (Cara tells me) have both called Ohio "too close to call." Maybe the media are dialing this back.

2:00am. My back is starting to hurt. I think I need more tapioca. In election news, CNN reports that a final vote tally from election officials in Iowa will be delayed till Wednesday due to broken machines and "office fatique" of election workers. I know how they feel.

2:39am Jeff Greenfield is going through all the mathematical equations about what could happen and how. It's looking increasingly bad. Now Arnold is on TV talking about the three strikes law. I think I may be hallucinating at this point.

2:55am: "The Republicans are tee-totally mee-mortally conviced they are going to win Ohio." Oh yeah, Dangerous Dan is getting tired. And so am I. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. I’m going to bed.

—lori.

November 2, 2004 — 08:17 EDT

Just visited my local polling place, where I was greeted by four nice little old ladies and one (!) voting booth. There was no line, though. So I stepped in, pulled the curtain, pushed my levers, and stepped out to claim my "I Voted Today!" sticker.

Wait, do you smell that? Why, it's the heady scent of democracy! Drink it in, young voter.

—lori.

November 1, 2004 — 23:39 EDT

The chairman of the election campaign for the Democratic candidate in the 12th district of the Monroe County legislature has my cell phone.

Let me explain. Tonite I went over to the local International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers to volunteer for the Democrats' "get out the vote" effort here in upstate New York. I arrived at the hall and was a little perplexed. I'm not sure what I was expecting to see. When I volunteered for the phone bank I guess I expected, well, a bank of phones. Think PBS fund drive: a sea of risers manned by dedicated volunteers wearing matching sweatshirts, while a tote board chronicles the steady climb in the number of voters determined to turn out for John Kerry.

What I found were rows and rows of empty tables and chairs, and two people stapling together two pieces of campaign literature to form one longer piece of campaign literature. One of them was the wife of Michael Radigan, the above-mentioned Monroe County legislature candidate. The other was named Tom. They both seemed very nice, but as there were three of us and only two staplers, I was feeling a bit extraneous.

Initial first impressions aside, things got moving pretty quickly. Andrea, the above-mentioned campaign manager of the above-mentioned Michael Radigan, appeared with the list of registered Democrats that we were to call. Andrea made a quick call to another campaign worker who was out replacing Radigan signs that had been ripped down the night before. She said one night, the Radigan campaign lost all its signs, while none of their opponents signs had been touched. And this is in a county legislature race!

Other volunteers began arriving, and the room's four phone lines were soon humming. My first call was a little disheartening. I began with my script: "Hello, my name is Lori and I'm a volunteer with the Monroe County Democrats..." That's as far as I got when the man on other end of the phone sighed, "I know, I'll be there. Will you people stop calling already. Sheesh!" Well this doesn't bode well, I thought.

But the rest of the evening went really, really well. I was surprised at how pleasant and even excited most everyone was. "Oh we'll be there! We can't wait! You bet I'm voting for Kerry!" One man, when I asked if his wife needed assistance getting to the polls, replied, "Oh she'll be there if she has to crawl on her hands and knees!"

The rest of the volunteers were great, too. Mike Radigan made an appearance toward the end of the night, looking tired but happy and helping himself to the remnants of the pizza that had arrived earlier. It was reassuring being around political people and finding them to be so ... normal. Sometimes, when members of the general public see a politician coming at them at a local fair or parade or football game, I think the tendency is to cross the street or walk the other way. But, at the local level at least, these folks are to be commended rather than avoided. It's tough getting out there and facing rejection and criticism to try to make a difference for the greater good. I think the rest of us forget that sometimes.

Andrea, the campaign manager, is a great example. I'd say she is about 23 or 25 years old. She got into campaigning with the Howard Dean candidacy, and she's now managing a campaign in a local race. She also works at Geneseo, and knows Mr. Goddess (they work in the same building, and Mr. Goddess teaches the Radigan's son. Small world, eh). Oh, yeah. And she has my cell phone. I left it on the table next to my post at the phones. I'll try to meet up with her sometime tomorrow to get it from her. I have a feeling, though, that she'll have a lot more important things to do tomorrow than to worry about whether one scatterbrained volunteer gets her cell phone back. It's not a problem. It can wait till after the victory party.

—lori.

November 1, 2004 — 11:27 EDT

It's quiet out there. Too quiet.

It's like the scene near the end of High Noon, when Gary Cooper is sitting alone in his office and he knows that the Miller boys are coming to town to kill him but he can't run and he doesn't know who else in the town, if anyone, will come to his aid. So he sits alone and waits, and the camera cuts from one clock to another to another.

Everyone is holding their breath, waiting for Election Day. It's going to be bad; I've got a feeling in my bones. No matter who wins, a significant portion of the American public is going to think that they was robbed. That the fix was in. The country will be plunged into a crisis just as we're already in the middle of being plunged into another crisis in Iraq. Plus the whole thing has this crazy religious tinge to it, with red calves and end times and rapture and Armageddon. Oh, yeah. It's going to be bad.

So that's the goddess's Election Day prediction: total chaos and pandemonium. But despite this cloud of fear and loathing that haunts me, I do think that Kerry is going to win. Whether or not Bush will leave, now that's another question.

—lori.

October 29, 2004 — 09:26 EDT

I'm off to St. Louis this afternoon; Mr. Goddess is attending a conference and I'm tagging along. I'm a tagger. I'm kinda bummed that the World Series is over. Not only is a Red Sox sweep anti-climatic, but if the Cardinals had managed to win a couple games I would have been in St. Louis in time to catch a game. This would have been the first time I was actually in a city whose team was in the World Series. When the Phillies were last in the Series in 1993, I was watching alone in a bar in Lock Haven, Pa., as Joe Carter's homerun sailed into the stands, giving the Blue Jays a walk-off win in Game 7.

Oh well. There's always next year.

—lori.

October 27, 2004 — 19:44 EDT

Here is the dream scenario, the perfect script sportswriters all across America are praying with play out in the remaining games of the 2004 World Series.

OK. With the Boston Red Sox up 3-0, it's now the Cardinals turn to do the "impossible" and win the next three games in dramatic fashion to force a Game 7 in Boston. Fast forward to Boston. Game 7. Curt Schilling, his ankle now stapled together and then duct taped to the inside of his shoe, is wheeled out to the mound. He walks the first two batters and is in obvious pain as the blood stain seeps up his knee socks. He settles down, though, and gets out of the inning. He is hitless through seven. Boston manager Terry Francona brings Pedro Martinez out of the bullpen. Pedro gives up one run in the seventh, another in the eighth. The Red Sox start the ninth inning up by one. Francona puts Doug Mientkiewicz in at first; we don't want a repeat of Bill Buckner '86. But we do get a repeat of Buckner '86. The usually impervious Mientkiewicz boots a bad hop off first, committing only his fifth error of the season and the Cardinals score the tying run. We're going to extra innings. And in the bottom of the 14th, with two outs and nobody on, David Ortiz hits a home run sailing softly into the early morning Fenway air. The Red Sox win! The Red Sox win! Grown men weep and angels sing. THE RED SOX WIN!

That, or the Red Sox win tonite to sweep the series, and the nation thinks, "Well, that was easy. I wonder what all the drama was about."

—lori.

October 26, 2004 — 10:16 EDT

Nostalgia alert! It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is on tonite, and I'm really looking forward to it. I remember as a kid you always seemed to just know when these specials were on. I don't ever remember reading the TV listings as an eight-year-old, but I just knew. And of course there was that great CBS Special Presentation logo at the beginning of all these specials that just signaled, "Hey kids, grab the Jiffy Pop 'cuz this next one's for you!"

I'm not really sure what lesson we were all supposed to learn from The Great Pumpkin. It's actually one of the more depressing of the Peanuts specials, with the possible exception of the Thanksgiving special where the kids are forced to eat jelly beans and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner because their parents have abandoned them. In The Great Pumpkin, we learn that when you stand up for your beliefs, even when the rest of the world is laughing at you, you'll be left all alone in the cold with no candy.

Actually, I take it back. That's a pretty important lesson.

—lori.

October 25, 2004 — 03:56 EDT :: permalink

BBC America aired the two-hour special of The Office this weekend, and for a little while I was in TV heaven. I love this show, and now it's over. There are no new Office episodes to look forward to, unless you count the American version that Ricky Gervais, creator and star of the British show, is supposedly helping to develop. Despite my love for Steve Carrell, I don't hold out much hope. I don't know how an American show could equal, much less improve on, the quality of the original.

Consider the ending of the second series, where lovelorn pudding-face Tim finally gets the nerve to tell the long-suffering Dawn how he feels about her. He removes his microphone and goes into the break room to pour his heart out to her before she leaves for Florida with her joyless buffoon of a fiancee. The whole scene plays out in silence, behind the glass of the break room window, and we can barely even see Tim and Dawn through the half-drawn blinds. Tim returns to his desk, puts his mic back on, smiles into the camera and says, "She said no." I'm not embarrassed to say I was bawling like a baby. What American show would have the courage to film a climatic scene of unrequited love in such a way?

The special picks up three years later, with the documentary crew catching up with its subjects. David, having been fired at the end of the last series, is now a travelling office supply salesman who tries to capitalize on his new-found though decidely minor celebrity with a series of cringe-inducing gigs at local clubs. Gareth is now the boss. Dawn is with her fiancee, living illegally in Florida. And Tim is still, sadly, at his desk.

I won't go any further, other than to say that what ensues is television gold. I will say the scene where David tries to complement his blind date's necklace and ends up talking about her dead mother's breasts is worth the price of the newly packaged series DVD.

—lori.