Why Barack Obama Needs To Win the Presidency

Over the past several weeks the Democratic presidential nominating process has become a hodge-podge of bullshit political ploys and pundit sound bites that are serving no purpose other than to confuse the already stupefied American public and fill dead air time on the 24 hour news networks that can’t think of anything better to talk about than the “Ballot Bowl.” Even the comedy shows, whose job it is to present a satirical picture of the absurdity of the political process, seem to be running out of ideas (see the latest Hill-Shill on SNL over the past couple of weeks to get an idea of the vacuous quagmire the show has sunk into).

The ludicrous racially-tinged remarks of Geraldine Ferraro about Obama’s only making it this far because he is black (his brilliant mind, extraordinary speaking ability and the fact that he is indeed a Constitutional lawyer and Senator all taking a back seat to his “blackness”) send the same tired ignorant old-white-America pseudo-philosophical message that the country has tolerated, either secretly or openly, for decades. Maybe it’s because mine was the first generation in American history to actually be taught that we are all created equal, on no uncertain terms and with unequivocal certainty, that I find her comments both insulting and pitiable.

But worse than the comments is the ineffectiveness of the Clinton campaign to step up to the plate and let the American public know, once and for all, where she stands on the issue of so called campaign advisors sounding off their misinformed, asinine opinions in her name. It is indeed “regrettable” that Mrs. Clinton can’t seem to put two and two together and realize that she is alienating a huge portion of her potential electorate (i.e. Generation Xers and younger) with her calculating, middle of the road response to this type of foolishness.

Obama’s campaign hasn’t been totally innocent when it comes to smear either, although it is hardly in the same league as the Clinton kitchen sink machine. Samantha Power’s remarks about Hillary Clinton being a monster were not appropriate. We expect, and even sometimes find the humor in these types of remarks, coming from say someone like Matt Taibbi. But for an Obama advisor, and so called intellectual, to be speaking in such a childish manner is unacceptable. She should have known better, and I’m glad she’s no longer a voice for the campaign. The very last thing Barack Obama needs right now is to go negative. A huge part of his appeal is his optimism and the way he tries to stick to the issues without getting personal.

It must be difficult to be constantly under the scrutiny of a carnivorous press and an apathetic brain dead public. Both candidates are unbelievably resilient and tough. Both candidates are brilliant and qualified. And both candidates have what it takes to run the show. Would I want the press and my opponent to continually clamor for copies of my tax returns? No, and I wish Obama would cut it out. Who fucking cares what the Clinton’s tax returns say?

Perhaps the most absurd argument coming from the Clinton campaign is that because Obama hasn’t won the “big states” that he couldn’t possibly carry them in the general election. Please. Do you really think that New York or California is going to go for McCain in the general if Obama is the candidate? Never. And we all know that Texas will almost certainly go to McCain no matter who is on the Democratic ticket. That’s just the way things works. Everyone knows it, so stop trying to scare people into thinking that a vote for Obama is somehow a vote for McCain. The holes in your logic dwarf the Grand Canyon.

However, here is an argument that holds enough water to get us through the desert. Obama appeals not only to vast numbers of Democrats, but to Independents and some Republicans as well. My theory is that there are many Republicans in congress right now who would like nothing more than to stop goose-stepping the party line, but they need a face saving way to begin to think rationally again. A Clinton presidency will never, under any circumstances, convince these people to regain their sanity. On the contrary, it will only embolden them to become even more defiant in their legislation efforts and votes because of their seemingly never ending hatred for Mrs. Clinton and her sexually deviant husband.

The same goes for way too many regular Americans who have already decided that they will never vote for Clinton even if the Republican ticket were Hitler/Mussolini. It’s a completely irrational way to approach a presidential election, but we’re not dealing with a nation of rational thinking politically savvy citizens. We’re dealing with the American Idol set, the ones who care more about sex scandals and celebrity train wrecks than they do about the fate of the free world. Cicero said it best when he summed up why people make the decisions they do. “Men decide far more problems by hate, love, lust, rage, sorrow, joy, hope, fear, illusion or some other inward emotion, than by reality, authority, any legal standard, judicial precedent or statute.”

Barack Obama in the Whitehouse would be the best thing to happen to America since JFK took the oath of office. We need this. Desperately. I don’t want to have to move to Canada.

Photo of the Week

Happy Friday!!!!!

Across the Universe - Worth the Trip

Okay. Last night I watched a movie called "Across the Universe" and my mind was completely blown. Traditionally, I can't stand musicals of any sort (except Hair and Mary Poppins) and secondly, I'm a total Beatle snob and regard other people's renditions of their songs (with the exception of Joe Cocker) to border on sacrilege. The only reason I rented the thing is that I'm a big fan of Julie Taymor. In fact, she directed one of the most visually stunning movies I've ever seen – Frida.

Any red blooded Beatle freak will get every reference in the film right off, which made it all the more entertaining. With characters named Jude, Lucy, Max, Sadie, JoJo, Dr. Robert…you get the picture. Very clever. The plot was obviously driven by historical facts and real places, but it generated a sense of surreal familiarity much the same way "Yellow Submarine" did. Taymor and her writers basically created a completely Beatle-centric universe and every detail was tended to right down to the apples. What floored me were the cameos of Joe Cocker and Bono. Score – big time. Their musical renditions of Come Together and I Am the Walrus alone were worth the risk. However, it is Taymor's absolute genius vision and sublime directing talent that puts this movie over the top. She pulled out all the tricks from her arsenal of weirdness. Think Tim Burton, only brighter and with a few less gadgets. Taymor is all about color and surreal beauty. Utilizing an entire cast of unknowns was also brilliant because the actors become the characters. I've never seen any of them anywhere else so there wasn't that urge to compare and contrast.

The only downside to the film, believe it or not, is there's too much music. I never thought there could ever be an instance of a superfluous Beatles' song, but in a few cases Taymor takes it unnecessarily too far, especially with the high-pitched weak vocals of Evan Rachel Wood. A bit more dialogue would have explained things better, especially to an audience that maybe didn't try to telephone Pepper Land or play "Revolution 9" backwards for kicks. But who am I to judge? I'm just a no-name writer with an encyclopedic knowledge of all things Beatle. This movie has definitely helped me to reconnect with all the emotions and excitement of my past Beatle obsession. I feel like I'm home again.

The Absurdity of Life in Connecticut....

One of Connecticut's most erudite residents had this to say....

"Laws control the lesser man... Right conduct controls the greater one."




Literally for centuries, Connecticut has been home to some of the greatest intellectual and political minds in American history. Their collective genius, apparently, was not utilized to its fullest. Here are a few good old fashioned Connecticut Blue Laws still on the books. I shit you not.

In order for a pickle to officially be considered a pickle, it must bounce.

In Devon - It is unlawful to walk backwards after sunset.

In Guilford - Only white Christmas lights are allowed for display.

In Hartford - You aren't allowed to cross a street while walking on your hands.

In Hartford - It is illegal for a man to kiss his wife on Sunday.

In New Britian - It is illegal for fire trucks to exceed 25mph, even when going to a fire.

In Southington - Silly string is banned.

In Waterbury - It is illegal for any beautician to hum, whistle, or sing while working on a customer.

Some thoughts on Valentine's Day......

Is it me, or is there an obnoxious Valentine’s Day marketing push this year? When did Russell Stover start making commercials? And those burly blue collar guys revealing their wives’ bloodlust for cheap chocolates – give me a break. The Flowers.com commercials are equally as annoying. They have these totally dickish guys talking about how easy it is to order flowers, the full price and how many orders they’ve made. One guy made 24 orders. If you do the math at thirty bucks a pop times 24, that’s a whopping $720! But what is more unbelievable is that he looks like a total dork which leads me to believe a) he has a lot of sisters, or b) he rivals Ron Jeremy in the goods department. Perhaps most disturbing of all are the Vermont Teddy Bear ads. Who in their right mind pays $50 for a stupid teddy bear dressed in lingerie? Are women really that crazy? I don’t think so. 

Maybe I’m so cynical about Valentine’s Day because it is the day my parents were married. My parents – Helene and Paul – quite possibly the most dysfunctional pairing since Lucy and Desi – whose marriage, separation and merciful divorce spanned three decades. My father was big on the holiday. Every year he’d bring my sister and me boxes of chocolates, cards and flowers. It was our special time, an acknowledgment of his love for the three girls in his life. And my mother, well she’d get expensive jewelry (as is Sicilian style). Only she wasn’t interested in trinkets and baubles. What she really wanted were the two things that my father could never give – fidelity and a financial security. So one day when I was nine, he left, and I stopped getting Valentine gifts. To this day I still have the last card he ever gave me. It’s big and pink and full of glitter with cut-out pieces that form a tiara and paper jewelry – because I was still his little princess then. Are your eyes welling up? Go get a Kleenex, I’ll wait…..

So anyway, such is the triteness of my childhood and the reason that I never put too much stock in the holiday. I often remind my husband to thank his lucky stars that he has indeed married the coolest chick he will ever meet in this lifetime or the next. Usually we just exchange cards. Occasionally he’ll get me flowers, though I think their prices are way too jacked up for Valentine’s and usually by the time he gets around to buying them they are half dead. He’s not the best flower picker but he has other more redeeming qualities. This year I let him know that all I really want from him is a love letter and to refrain from farting in the kitchen. When I told him I wanted a love letter he looked at me as if I’d just asked him for a kidney. The terror in his eyes was that of a dog who for no reason has just been kicked in the gut by a trusted master. Couldn’t this be better expressed in a clever card or perhaps more physically? No. It’s a love letter or nothing. I don’t care if it’s on a post-it note. Will I receive this much coveted article of ephemera? Probably not. I guess I’ll have to be content with a flatulence-free dinner and maybe a slow dance in the living room. But even that beats a Vermont fucking teddy bear!