Posts - October 2008

Two great articles about Sarah Palin in Slate.

This one explains Sarah Palin’s accent, and Alaskan accents in general:

Overall, because of the mixture of people and the large number of newcomers, Alaskan English is often hard to place, with both Westerners and Midwesterners thinking that it sounds oddly foreign; indeed, some Westerners have said that Palin sounds like a Midwesterner, and Midwesterners that she sounds Western.

And this one attempts to diagram Palin’s sentences.

I had to give up. This sentence is not for diagramming lightweights. If there’s anyone out there who can kick this sucker into line, I’d be delighted to hear from you. To me, it’s not English—it’s a collection of words strung together to elicit a reaction, floating ands and prepositional phrases (“with that vote of the American people”) be damned. It requires not a diagram but a selection of push-buttons.

Four years ago, the New Yorker endorsed a presidential candidate for the first time in its 80-year history: John Kerry.

Yesterday, the New Yorker endorsed Barack Obama. No presidential candidate is going to tout an endorsement from a magazine so elite it spells elite as élite. But the editors make their case well.

Sarah Palin Debate Flowchart. Love it.

Latin is making a comeback in American schools.

The number of students in the United States taking the National Latin Exam has risen steadily to more than 134,000 students in each of the past two years, from 124,000 in 2003 and 101,000 in 1998…

Marty Abbott, education director of the American Council on the Teaching of Foreign Languages, said it was possible that Latin would edge out German as the third most popular language taught in schools, behind Spanish and French, when the preliminary results of an enrollment survey are released next year. In the last survey, covering enrollment in 2000, Latin placed fourth.

I’ve been teaching myself Latin for the last couple of months. I’d always wanted to learn it and I’m enjoying doing so.

Ms. Abbott, a former Latin teacher, said that today’s Latin classes appeal to more students because they have evolved from “dry grammar and tortuous translations” to livelier lessons that focus on culture, history and the daily life of the Romans.

I actually love grammar, which is probably why I find Latin fun. Since I’m not in a classroom setting, I don’t know if I’d be able to hold conversations in it. But maybe the reading and writing is more important anyway.

Among the biggest upsurges on Google right now:

Number 3: “that one”
Number 6: “mccain that one”
Number 50: “beneficially”

McCain used the word “beneficially” at least twice tonight. Apparently I’m not the only one who thought that sounded weird. (Even if it’s a real word.)

Only three U.S. presidents so far have had names ending in vowel sounds: James Monroe, William McKinley, and John F. Kennedy.

(Most popular final letter: N. Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Jackson, Van Buren, Harrison, Buchanan, Lincoln, Johnson, Harrison, Wilson, Truman, Johnson, Nixon, Reagan, Clinton.)

Last night’s townhall debate made me think back to the townhall debate of 1992, which was held in Richmond, Virginia. Sixteen years ago — sixteen years ago! — I was in my second year at the University of Virginia, and I tagged along with some of the University Democrats to Richmond, an hour away, to attend an official Democratic debate-watching party in a crowded hotel ballroom. We watched it on a big screen, cheering Clinton, booing Bush, laughing when debate moderater Carole Simpson just barely hid her sarcasm by referring to Bush as “the education president.”

After the debate, the Clintons and their entourage came over to the hotel. I managed to push my way into the throng of people behind the rope line and shake Clinton’s hand. (I was too short to actually see him, but I stuck my hand in between some people and my hand was shaken.) Bill and Hillary got up onto the podium, Virginia Governor Doug Wilder introduced them. Bill said very little — he was completely hoarse — so Hillary spoke on his behalf.

That debate was a turning point in the 1992 election. Here’s the clip of the most famous moment from that debate.

Hooray Connecticut!

But dammit, why do these decisions keep having to be 4-3?

While breaking the Yom Kippur fast last night with some dear, lifelong family friends, I learned the following:

Back in the 70s, in Ann Arbor, Michigan, William Ayers had a thing for my brother’s best friend’s mom. She kept having to turn down his advances.

To think that if things had gone differently, my brother’s best friend and his sister could have been the children of Bill Ayers.

There were 600 days until the end of the Bush presidency, then 500 days, then 400, then 300, then 200.

Finally, as of today, there are only 100 days until Bush leaves office! Only 2400 hours or so to go.

They can’t pass soon enough.

Matthew Shepard died 10 years ago today.

I had only been out of the closet for a couple of months when he died, and his death affected me deeply. Here’s what I wrote at the time for a UVa student newspaper, The Declaration.

I don’t know what it is about this recent sketch from Saturday Night Live, but I smile every time I watch it. It’s so stupid it’s funny.

The “No on Prop 8″ people in California (those are the good guys) have created four commercials that spoof the Mac-vs-PC ads. The woman playing the California constitution in #3 totally reminds me of Christina Hendricks, who plays the awesome Joan Holloway on Mad Men. I seriously thought it was her at first.

Yesterday, with just 98 days left in his presidency, President Bush issued more signing statements, signifying that he’s going to ignore parts of laws that he himself had signed.

President Bush asserted on Tuesday that he had the executive power to bypass several parts of two bills: a military authorization act and a measure giving inspectors general greater independence from White House control.

Mr. Bush signed the two measures into law. But he then issued a so-called signing statement in which he instructed the executive branch to view parts of each as unconstitutional constraints on presidential power. …

Mr. Bush has used the signing statements to assert a right to bypass more than 1,100 sections of laws. By comparison, all previous presidents combined challenged about 600 sections of bills.

I hate this shit. It’s blatantly unconstitutional. If you don’t like a bill or think it encroaches upon executive powers, you veto it. You don’t go around the veto by issuing signing statements. It denies Congress the chance to override a veto. Even if there’s practically no chance of an override, it still violates the Constitution.

The American Bar Association agrees.

Now that all the debates are behind us, and McCain hasn’t put a dent in Obama’s poll numbers, I’m cautiously optimistic. Not overly optimistic, but cautiously so.

I’ve realized there’s no need to be worried; more often than not, the status quo holds. Conventional wisdom is usually right.

On the other hand, I’m not giddy. There are still 19 days until the election, and that’s a long time in politics. Any number of things could happen: Osama bin Laden could issue another video message, or he could be captured; there could be a terrorist attack (not likely); the Republicans could get desperate with their push-polls and voter mailings; McCain could put out a really effective ad; Obama voters could get blocked at the polls on Election Day; voting machines could go haywire. In 2000 and 2004, we came tantalizingly close, only to be thwarted.

But Obama is currently doing better in the polls than Gore or Kerry were doing at this point in their races. It’s not even close right now; Obama is winning.

The last time I felt like this was in October 1992. All signs were pointing to a Bill Clinton victory, but I couldn’t let myself believe it would actually happen. A couple of weeks before the election, Newsweek put a picture of Bill Clinton on its cover with the words, “President Clinton?” As in, this could actually happen. It wasn’t until election night that I cheered.

So I remain cautiously optimistic. And I just want November 4 to get here. I want this to be over with. I won’t be able to take much more.

Not to get complacent, but I’ve been thinking about this and apparently some journalists have as well: if Obama wins Virginia on Election Night, it could be a short night. Virginia polls close at 7 p.m. Eastern time. All the Kerry states plus Virginia’s 13 electoral votes adds up to 265; since Iowa is apparently in the bag already, that brings Obama to 272. Which doesn’t even count the likely Colorado and New Mexico.

The downside is that if everyone sees that Obama is the likely winner, it could affect turnout in downballot races. That creates a news dilemma.

But again… complacent is the last thing we should be right now. Anything can still happen.

Here’s some of NBC’s Election Night coverage in 1992, projecting that Bill Clinton has won the presidency.

Quite a time warp. Katie Couric with really dark hair and makeup (at about five minutes in); John Chancellor, still alive; and Tim Russert. Lots of prescience — talking about the new “electronic” ways that politicians could communicate with the people, a year before the first web browser would come into use; the idea that Clinton and Gore could be in office until the millennium; a new generation of people taking over Washington.

All this heady optimism after 12 years of Republican rule. What a great time it was. (The analogy to our hopes today is too obvious…)

Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night I list all the U.S. presidents in order of service.

Last night I was wondering, who is the most obscure U.S. president? The one that nobody remembers?

I have my choice, which might not be shared by everyone, since I know a lot about the presidents.

My first instinct is to say Millard Fillmore. But it can’t be him, because he’s the stereotypical obscure president. If asked to name an obscure president, everyone would name Fillmore. He’s known for being obscure. Therefore, paradoxically, it can’t be him.

It can’t be 20th-century president, because they’re all too familiar to us.

It can’t be any president who was assassinated or died in office, because they’re remembered for that exact reason. So William Henry Harrison, James Garfield, and William McKinley are out. Harrison had the shortest presidency — about a month — but he’s remembered for that very reason.

It can’t be any of the Founding Father presidents — except maybe James Monroe. But the Monroe Doctrine is named after him. So while he’s a good candidate for most obscure, he’s not ideal.

It might be Rutherford B. Hayes, except that eight years ago, everyone was comparing the Bush-Gore deadlock to the Hayes-Tilden deadlock that ended up in the Supreme Court. So he’s out.

James Buchanan is typically ranked as one of the worst presidents, so he has a reason to be remembered. It can’t be Buchanan.

Franklin Pierce came just before Buchanan; while he’s one of the most obscure, he still gets paired with Buchanan a lot. So it’s not Pierce.

For me it comes down to two presidents, but one has a slight edge. The second-most obscure, I think, is Chester A. Arthur, who took over after Garfield was assassinated. Few people seem to remember President Arthur. But the thing that holds him back from being most obscure is that he’s one of the “bearded presidents,” the presidents of the Gilded Age, who all seem to run together. When looking for obscure presidents, people often look to this group. So Arthur has a disadvantage similar to that of Millard Fillmore.

My ultimate choice for most obscure U.S. president?

John Tyler.

Why Tyler, especially since his name is part of a famous political slogan — “Tippecanoe and Tyler Too”?

I don’t know. I just always forget about him.

First, he has such an ordinary name. John Tyler. He could be the guy across the street.

Tyler became president when William Henry Harrison died. It was the first time a vice president had taken over, and people didn’t know what to call him at first. Acting President? Vice President, but with presidential duties? Or just plain President? He became President Tyler, and ever since, all presidents who took office due to the death of another have assumed the full powers of the office.

Harrison had been a Whig, but Tyler was a Whig in name only. He was really a Democrat at heart, and he only became a Whig in order to be named as Harrison’s running mate. (Harrison, who was from Ohio, named Tyler, a Virginian, to help balance the ticket between North and South.) After Tyler became president, he went back on everything the Whigs wanted.

John Tyler: my choice for most obscure U.S. president.

The Democrats don’t need 60 Senate seats in order to accomplish things. Here’s why.

I’m really worried that California Prop 8 will pass on November 4, writing marriage discrimination into the California constitution. Election Night could be bittersweet in California, as Obama wins but marriage equality loses. The polls right now don’t look good.

If Prop 8 passes, then same-sex marriage rights in California are gone for good — unless the U.S. Supreme Court someday rules on the issue, or future California voters someday amend the state constitution in the other direction.

I don’t live in California, of course, but I know at least one couple who does, and there are more than 100,000 others.

I don’t know what to do, other than donate money. I was reluctant to donate, because I thought, what can my own little contribution do?

But I’ve decided I have to donate to this. I’ve never donated to a political cause before. I didn’t even donate to Obama, although I thought about it last spring.

But this cannot pass.

My contribution alone won’t affect things, but combined with the contributions of others, it might.

Please donate to help defeat Prop 8. I just did.

Here’s a collection of polls on Prop 8.

Here’s a list of Election Night poll closing times, sortable alphabetically or chronologically.

Hilarious:

As Mr. McCain enters this closing stretch, his aides — as well as some outside Republicans and even a few Democrats — argue that he still has a viable path to victory…

Mr. McCain’s advisers said the key to victory was reeling back those Republican states where Mr. Obama has them on the run: Florida, where Mr. McCain spent Thursday; Indiana; Missouri; North Carolina; Ohio; and Virginia.

Oh, gee, is that all?

If he can hang on to all those states as well as others that are reliably red, he would put into his column 260 of the 270 electoral votes necessary to win.

*would spit coffee, if I drank coffee*

They need to do all of that and it doesn’t even get them to 270?

Mr. McCain’s advisers said they would look for the additional electoral votes they need either by taking Pennsylvania from the Democrats, or putting together some combination of Colorado, Nevada, New Hampshire and New Mexico.

It’s so sweet of the Times to try and provide balance.

Men can’t think straight about Sarah Palin because they’re sexually attracted to her. Of course, anyone who read Ross “Starburst” Douthat’s paean to her debate performance already knows this.

As regular readers of my blog know, I’m into weird statistics.

Well, it turns out that right now there are six consecutive Tony Award winners for Best Musical playing on Broadway: Hairspray (2003), Avenue Q (2004), Spamalot (2005), Jersey Boys (2006), Spring Awakening (2007), and In the Heights (2008). I wonder if this is a record? I’m talking about original productions that have won Best Musical, not revivals of shows that originally won Best Musical or productions that won Best Revival.

Anyway, the current situation is going to last only until January, when Hairspray, Spamalot, and Spring Awakening all close.

The New York Times has endorsed Barack Obama (big surprise).

What’s really cool is that the Times has also posted links to all its presidential endorsements, going back to Abraham Lincoln in 1860:

We have great confidence in his pacific and conciliatory disposition. He seems to us much more likely to be too good-natured and tolerant towards his opponents, than not enough so. Rail-splitting is not an exciting occupation. It does not tend to cultivate the hot and angry passions of the heart. It is much less stimulating in this direction than the business of overseer on a slave plantation. It teaches a man to strike heavy blows, and to plant them just where they are needed — but he learns, also, to deal them only when they are needed.

Tidbits: the Times endorsed FDR’s opponent, Wendell Willkie, in 1940. (It endorsed FDR in 1932 and 1936 and again in 1944.) It endorsed Republicans in 1948, 1952 and 1956; since then, it’s endorsed the Democrat every time.

“The McCain campaign is roughly in the position where Vice President Gore was running against President Bush one week before the election of 2000,” said Steve Schmidt, Mr. McCain’s chief strategist.

Here are Bush v. Gore poll numbers throughout the fall of 2000. Um, yeah, not so much.

[via]

Over the weekend I finished watching John Adams, the seven-part HBO miniseries that won a ton of Emmys this year (and got nominated for several more). The big networks never show anything like this anymore; when was the last time a major network (ABC, CBS, NBC) showed even a single two-hour made-for-TV movie? Thank goodness for HBO.

If you’re an American history buff, you’ll love this. Because it’s about eight hours long, the series takes its time with John Adams’s life, lingering over his time in Paris and Amsterdam and London as well as in Boston, Philadelphia, New York, and Washington. The amount of period detail is wonderful — you can smell and taste the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Dirt, sweat, smallpox, scratchy colonial wigs. The Founders seem so elegant and elite to us, but we live in luxury compared to them. Imagine having to take a break from writing the Constitution to go use the outhouse. Imagine having to sail across the Atlantic Ocean to Europe when you’ve spent your whole life in the northeastern American colonies, and being completely cut off from your family. (I read a biography of Adams last year, and that was the idea that amazed me most.)

Paul Giamatti and (especially) Laura Linney, as John and Abigail Adams, are terrific. We watch them grow old together (and sometimes apart).

During the episode where the Continental Congress debates whether or not declare independence, Matt asked me when they would start singing.

Okay, maybe I made that part up.

Anyway, this is a great series and I highly recommend it.

Today is Write to Marry Day.

I’ve already written about Prop 8 in California, and how important it is for Californians to vote “No” in order to protect the right of same-sex couples to get married.

Two big fears of the anti-marriage crowd right now appear to be that (1) same-sex marriage violates freedom of religion, and (2) teachers will be required to teach little kids about gay people.

Regarding the point about freedom of religion: Andy convincingly shows why this argument is wrong.

I would add that religious groups in this country have always had to deal with secular laws that might discriminate against them. This is not a new thing. “[R]eligious entities have no right under the First Amendment’s Religion Clauses to avoid neutral, generally-applicable anti-discrimination laws,” according to this commentary. These things have a way of being worked out in courts and legislatures. Yes, a religious organization might be sued, but the threat of a lawsuit in and of itself does not mean that your rights are being denied.

Regarding the second point, about children: I will never understand the fears about children being exposed to the concept of homosexuality. When little kids learn about Prince Charming and Cinderella, do they hop into bed and start fucking each other? No. Do Disney movies or fairy tales about couples living “happily ever after” teach them about penises and vaginas? No.

Anyway, kids tend to be curious about penises and vaginas on their own, since every kid has one or the other. Kids want to know about their equipment. It’s the parents who are afraid to talk about it.

Certain ignorant people think that homosexuality is contagious. That’s ridiculous. I didn’t “learn to be gay” from gay people. I didn’t even know any gay people growing up. Almost every gay person grows up with straight parents and is surrounded by straight couples, and yet still turns out to be gay.

Why don’t they look at the Massachusetts education system and see what’s happening there, instead of just tossing around fear and hysteria?

Aw, enough. I’m preaching to the choir. Just get out and vote “No” on Prop 8 on Tuesday if you’re a Californian, and donate money if you haven’t already, whether you’re a Californian or not.

David Foster Wallace’s autopsy has been released. He apparently left a suicide note.

How we got here. For old times’ sake:

And that’s only through June.

Cripes, it’s been a long year.

Last night we saw a preview of Road Show, the Sondheim musical, at the Public Theater. Road Show has been bouncing around for more than 10 years as Sondheim has tweaked and revised it, under the names Wise Guys, Gold, Brotherhood, and Bounce, but it has never made it to Broadway.

Just before the lights went down, who slipped into the end of the row right behind us?

The master himself — Stephen Sondheim.

I couldn’t believe it. Stephen Sondheim is sitting in the row right behind us, I thought. We’re at a Sondheim musical and Sondheim is here.

And this was not a big theater.

I’m surprised Matt remained calm — Sondheim is a god to him. And by the eyes of the people around us, I could tell we weren’t the only ones who realized we were in The Presence.

Then the show began, and we watched it and enjoyed it. It was 1 hour and 45 minutes, with no intermission.

At the end of the show, Sondheim and his colleague got up from the seats. They’d been sitting right next to the door to the emergency exit, so they decided to unobtrusively slip out that way. But an usher ran over and yelled at them, “Excuse me! Excuse me! You can’t go out that way!” Everyone turned to look.

There was some general low-key conferring as Sondheim explained to the woman who he was. The doors closed behind all three of them, and then we and everyone around us burst out laughing.

As we reached the end of our row and made our way up the aisle, the usher reappeared from the emergency exit door. Several of us smiled at her as if to share in the hilarity, but she had a pissed-off, defensive look on her face. “I’m not lettin’ people out that door,” she said. “I don’t care who you are.”

Matt and I continued walking up the aisle and I said softly, to no one in particular, “I don’t care if you’re Stephen Sondheim!”