"Undermining my electoral viability since 2001."

Six Years Later

Sadly, six years later still feels a lot like one year later:

bq. I can't help but think that a raw wound has a lot more use to those in power than a healed one, and while I don't believe that there's some vast conspiracy with malicious intent to keep the American people in a constant state of worry and fear, I do believe that's something the media does. I don't believe that Bush, Cheney and Co. are really evil people, but I do believe in the seductive power of subconscious desire, the human ability to rationalize. I certainly don't trust these people to do the right thing. They don't represent my interests or share my view of the world. They're not doing what I would do, and I don't believe in the end that they know better than me.

In some important ways things have changed. I certainly no longer feel like an island of rational dissent adrift in a sea of vengeful insanity -- that's one nice thing -- but the sense of utter frustration and resentment towards our political leadership and opinion-shaping elite persists.

On days when I think big and let myself remember, my gut feeling is still for ¡revolucion!. These morons and cowards -- and that includes most of the figureheads I will end up supporting politically, most likely -- have been fucking things up left and right for six years running, with no end in sight. They don't deal in honest public dialog and their perception of the challenges we face not only as a nation but as a motherfucking species is, frankly, retarded.

Logistically it would be nearly impossible, but I think sometimes we'd be better off cleaning the slate and starting something new. I don't believe a popular movement will form to do this anytime soon, but a slow downward spiral into the Red Dawn might, our Empire collapsing like a flan left too long in the cupboard.

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The War As We Saw It

NY Times has published an editorial by seven non-commissioned officers in Iraq, which is absolutely piercing in its insight:

...it is important not to assess security from an American-centered perspective. The ability of, say, American observers to safely walk down the streets of formerly violent towns is not a resounding indicator of security. What matters is the experience of the local citizenry and the future of our counterinsurgency. When we take this view, we see that a vast majority of Iraqis feel increasingly insecure and view us as an occupation force that has failed to produce normalcy after four years and is increasingly unlikely to do so as we continue to arm each warring side.

If you've been picking up even a fraction of the current yammering going on over the value of the Surge -- which is going to get a renewal sometime after Labor Day, I'd wager -- the contrast set by this piece couldn't be more stark. Not just in terms of opinion, but in specificity and linguistic clarity as well.

In my business, we'd call the likes of Kenneth Pollack and Bill Kristol "hand wavers." Salesman, essentially, as opposed to people who can actually write code. They understand a lot of things in theory, and they have a good jive, managing to sound credible to the uninitiated. But if you pay very close attention and/or know very much about the underlying issues, you can tell when someone is speaking from a place of direct and real experience, and when someone is speaking from a place of theoretical vision. More importantly, you can tell when they're feeding you a line of BS.

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Threads of Opportunity

As a follow up to the previous post declaring my new tag -- The New Cultural Movement -- I'd like to outline some of the specific threads of opportunity that I see as being germane here. This is kind of internally remedial for me, but seems like a good exercise anyway, and probably helpful for others to get a sense of the scope of things.

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You Watch Now

Oh, and this too, from my Sister's (happy birthday brie!) former employer no less:

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Scenes From The Suit-Wearing Day

Spent the day yesterday with my suit on, something that I get to enjoy as it's not what i have to do every day. It was good. Quickly:

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Romantic Polytheism

I've been reading this book my man Franz laid on me. It's less a book than a collection of essays, all by the recently deceased philosopher Richard Rorty, who calls himself a protege of the old-school American Pragmatist, and favorite of mine, John Dewey. It's been getting me thinking quite a bit.

Franz was the one who originally turned me on to Dewey. He gave me The Public and Its Problems when we first met in mid 2003; reading this book in the thick of the Dean campaign created the cornerstone of my positive political idealism (as opposed to my reactionary anti-war activism). I've long wanted to try and write this out as a kind of manifesto, and someday I probably will, but that's a bit off the track for this post.

So Rorty's book is a bit more unabashedly heady than the stuff of Dewey's that I've come to know. He's addressing an academically philosophical audience, so it's more obtuse and answers a bunch of questions that most of us take for granted. Still, those questions underly a lot, and I like the way he deals with them.

The first essays outline the concept of pragmatism as a romantic polytheism, which breaks down as follows:

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We Are All Outlaws In The Eyes Of America

I've been noodling around with this script concept for the past couple weeks, the first purely creative writing in quite a while. The gist of it is a disillusioned political operative raising cash money from black-market sources and carrying on an outlaw lobby campaign in DC. Thinly-veiled autobiographical content abounds, but they say you write what you know. My goal here is to start with that, and fill the rest in with what I dream.

The general concept can be exciting and sexy I think, and the rough plot arc I have sketched out should be a satisfying narrative, but I need to fill in some details before I can really finish a treatment. I need to learn more about the specifics of lobbyist culture, find out where and how Republican operatives party, and maybe investigate the rampant rumors about how the Humbold County DA raises money. I want as much authentic texture in the surroundings as possible; I think it will free me up to be more fantastical with the plot.

One of the big questions is "what's the outlaw lobbyist's agenda?" I think getting into the wonk zone would probably kill the writing, so the idea here is to sketch out something in broad strokes that has mass appeal, and then find something really specific that can be part of the primary dramatic conflict (e.g. what are the good and bad guys/gals facing off over?).

I'm not sure about this yet, but kicking the whole idea around with Franz, he gave me his wish-list, which actually seemed to be pretty decent:

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Scaling Satisfaction

Out last night watching some boxing on the pay per view with The Girth, then over to shoot a little pool at the ACME. The omnipresent question between the two of us is what the hell we're doing with our lives as "careers" begin to take off but everything else stagnates and the world around us seems to veer inexorably toward the ditch. What does it take to get a little satisfaction?

Harkening back to my post on Maslow's Pyramid of Human Needs, there's something wired into me and most of my friends that drives us to want to help people out, to look outward with a problem-solving eye. There's a kind of juice one gets from this that can't be replicated any other way, the cheap and generally unprofitable thrill of Doin' Right.

Mark's hooked on this too, via Americorps. There might be more money in being an artisan handyman, building fences from special Japanese cedar boards for the neo-bohemian HC bourgeoisie, but at the end of the day he says it can't touch the rush of helping a kid with a fucked up life steady his or her feet and move in a positive direction as a human being. Even though the latter pays less than minimum wage -- Americorps workers get s "stipend" and instructions on applying for food stamps, something that I find extremely unjust -- he's back again for another tour of duty.

For my part, I don't get this feeling too much from my work. Bootstrapping a business is kind of a cutthroat process, or at least one that requires a primary focus on self-interest. While I got a good charge out of starting the Drupal Dojo, and a healthy portion of our clients are do-gooders of one stripe or another, the main thing for the past 10 months has been figuring out how to pay the bills in a steady and dependable fashion.

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More Sicko

Sort of a ranty post here, hence the angry gun-toting photo.

My man -- and soon to be home-owner (!!!) -- Franko had an interesting comment on his blog in response to Sicko:

I've had no illusions about how fucked up HMO's are and always just assume that I'll never get any coverage for anything. I have never, ever been totally honest with any doctor I have ever had for fear of having my honesty come back to haunt me. No doctor of mine has or will ever know that I used to smoke cigarettes, how much I drink, past drug use etc. I feel that I am always trying to game a system that would like nothing more than to game me.

This is something I'd never actually considered. Frank's the son of a Doctor so he's been on the inside his whole life. I suppose I've been more of a naive trusting optimist, and having never had any other regular doctor than Dr. Halpern, who was my pediatrician and saw me once or twice as an adult, I've always been totally honest with health care people. It's never occurred to me to do otherwise, because they're supposed to be evaluating my health, and I assume they need all the data. I also assume at some level that what I share with them is private.

This, of course, is not really how it works. The fact that we have a system which employs the profit-motive to drive denial-of-care of course does mean that people lie to their docs. This is just another example of how deeply-grooved the wrong in our system of Health Care is. It's paradigmatically perverted. Spiritually fucked.

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Happy Birthday 'Merika!

I just made it back from a few days out camping at a boat-in site with Mark, Zya, her sister and brother in law, all hosted by Can-Do Tiger Dave (Zya's progenitor) and his goon squad of drunken loggers. Good times. I feel that all Americans should drive a speed boat at least once every four years.

It was hot and nasty on the way back across the Sacto valley (110 and humid at the low point) but Moamar held up fine in the heat, and here in Westhaven it's fogged-in and maybe 60 degrees tops. I'll be here until Sunday when I fly to New York for a bit.

I read some news today as a way of reorienting myself. The local paper out in the Sierras was all about parade coverage and exotic police-blotter stuff (woman with sword detained, etc), and I knew that The Fear would be progressing even over a holiday weekend.

It strikes me as odd how disconnected things are. Like, the giant -imperial palace- embassy being built in Baghdad, which is news because of construction problems. What the fuck, you know? The undercurrent of doom is returning.

Never underestimate the power of inertia to keep things going, but the total lack of sanity in this country's brain-trust is kind of alarming at times. Feels like we've all just accepted that Shit's Bad, and we're just going to make the best of it for ourselves and those around us. I lump myself into that group. It's hard to know what else really to do but bide time and work on yr own life.

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