No more Ms. Nice Blogger

I started this blog almost four years ago as a way to discuss issues that were important to me, and to my community. (Side rant: if you’re reading this, leave a comment for a change! Hello!) It took awhile for me to find my voice. And I’ve tried to moderate and occasionally tone down some things I’m pretty passionate about because a) no one wants to look back on something she wrote a year earlier and cringe, and b) I wanted to invite, not alienate, people who think differently from me.

Someone asked me not long ago if I regret anything I’ve ever written. Well, I regret calling Lindsey Graham a sniveling windbag back in 2008. That was unfair. Other than that, my only regret is ever once pulling a punch because it might make someone else feel better.

You can write critically about issues without resorting to personal insults. You can state your opinion and respectfully disagree with others. You can surprise people who are 99 percent in your corner with the one percent where you differ. But what you can’t do is engage people who have no interest in fixing problems.

Some people aren’t interested in solving anything. If you somehow manage to uncover a sliver of common ground, they’ll douse it in gasoline and light it with a fuse made of baby seals. We shouldn’t cater to these people. We should leave them on the margins where they belong, because the grown-ups have work to do.

That doesn’t mean that I want this blog to turn into an echo chamber where everyone tells each other how awesome we all are. If you disagree with me, tell me in the comments, or email me if you’re not comfortable saying something publicly. But know that I’m going to argue back. And I’m also going to expect something from you: logic.

Every one of these posts represents real time and research on my part. I don’t enjoy braying into the void about things I don’t understand. I look things up; I digest. I write, I put aside, I edit as objectively as I can. As a result, if you put a gun to my head – hell, to my mother’s head – I can defend every single thing I’ve ever written here. (Except for Lindsey Graham… and, again, I take that back.) Think about what you write. Stand by it. Stay on topic, for the love of pete.

We’re going to have a thoughtful frakking conversation here, dammit.

Shortcuts

Here’s a recap of a conversation I had with a dear friend in the not-too-distant past. We were discussing a government policy that I belief disproportionally impacts low-income people, when (and this was my problem) similar issues affecting wealthier people are off the table. (Hint: the issue at hand rhymes with “faxes.”)

Finally, my friend threw up his hands and said, “I guess I just hate poor people, huh?”

And I thought… No. No, I don’t think you do. And the reason I think that is because I know that you yourself have struggled financially at different points in your life, and that no one handed you anything. I also know that you were fortunate enough to be able-bodied and have a lot of family and friends to help with a job or a place to crash for a few days when you needed it. I know that you volunteer with your church and your community. When it comes to individual poor people, you have compassion. Just not for low-income people in general, when it comes to public policy. And when you think about those individuals, sometimes you rethink things.

That’s how we solve problems in our country. It’s so easy to fall back on terms or words that have become codes that signal “this person is on my side.” Sometimes shortcuts are useful, and sometimes they just let us off the hook when it comes to looking at an issue critically.

It’s tough. It’s so easy for that blogger to point out that someone’s employed by the Koch Brothers or George Soros, as if that’s all you need to know, as opposed to useful information for you to use in figuring out what you think.

Sometimes I think I’m lucky to be a diehard liberal Democrat who grew up in the rural South with half my family having served in the military. I worked at a nonprofit with a major donor who was a card-carrying tobacco company executive, and he remains one of my favorite people ever. I know an ardently feminist Army officer whom I cherish, even though he’s a Dolphins fan. I cross a lot of categories, and so I’m well suited to speak up and say, “Actually, you’re kind of full of it.” (Which, as you could probably tell, is something I enjoy doing.) My favorite family members to be around happen to be the ones with whom I disagree the most politically. People who’ve always been surrounded by people who are like them in every way are just missing out. I don’t see how they ever learn anything.

A few days ago, I wrote a post about Rep. Ron Paul’s comments on FEMA and the 1900 Galveston hurricane. The notion that the deadliest hurricane in U.S. history should be something to aspire to raised my eyebrows. But what really got me was reading that Paul voted against an $18 billion aid package for his own district following a hurricane.

And I thought, how easy.

Plenty of politicians get elected promising they’ll always or never do X, but most of them are savvy enough to know that they have to compromise sometimes. But there are those few – in both parties – that are consistent in a certain principle, always, no matter what. They’ll always vote against federal disaster aid, even for their own neighbors. They’ll always vote against military operations, even immediately following a terrorist attack.

Principled? You could say that. But how valuable are principles that are never challenged, revisited and affirmed?

Sometimes – frequently – one’s principles will come into conflict with one another. Adults make decisions anyway. They do the hard work of figuring out if this thing that’s important weighs heavier than this other thing that’s important. It’s hard work, and it should be. We elect people to gather information and make these tough choices, and someone who reflexively shoves his fingers in his ears and sings LA LA LALALALALALA isn’t doing that hard work, and is setting a pretty poor example.

Maybe I’m just getting old, but I have less and less patience for people (elected or not) that coast on shortcuts. The arrogance it takes to insist that you don’t need to hear from anyone who doesn’t meet all the items on your mental checklist. How do you function? And how do you expect our country to function?

We throw around so many words – “welfare queen,” “baby-killer,” etc. – that it’s easy to forget the people around us who may fall into those categories. But I don’t mean you, we say when confronted. Maybe we should think about those varied, actual and dearly beloved people BEFORE we start throwing around over-simplified code words.

Party like it's 1900

Bad timing alert!

Maybe the day that the entire east coast is flipping out over a slow-moving hurricane that's already shut down major cities is NOT the best time to declare that the Federal Emergency Management Agency isn't really something we need. People tend to be receptive to the "do I really need this?" thing when they're complacent, not when they're glued to the Weather Channel. But when has Rep. Ron Paul given a damn what I or anyone else thinks?

Following a fundraiser in New Hampshire (one of the states that's going to get at least some of Hurricane Irene's mess), Paul told CNN that FEMA gets in the way more than it helps. I think that reasonable people can debate how effective federal agencies are and whether they're necessary. But it's the evidence Paul cites in defense of his point of view that really gets me.

Citing the Galveston hurricane in 1900 that obliterated much of the Texas coast, the libertarian-leaning congressman said Americans were able to rebuild their cities and put up a seawall without the federal government's help.

"FEMA is not a good friend of most people in Texas," Paul said. "All they do is come in and tell you what to do and can't do. You can't get in your houses. And they hinder the local people, and they hinder volunteers from going in."

I wish CNN had posted the exact quote, because I'd really like to see for myself how Paul expressed this. The way this is written, he comes off somewhere between "Let them eat cake"-era Marie Antoinette and that kid who drove your high school teachers batty with his complete, almost willful inability to think critically.

As luck would have it, I'm rereading Isaac's Storm, an account of the 1900 Galveston hurricane, which I bought just before Hurricane Katrina and which I tend to reread whenever there's a big storm coming. (I'm weird that way.) If you're unaware, the Galveston storm was one of the deadliest hurricanes in American history. While the storm was powerful, it was so devastating because it was so unexpected. Had Galveston had the technology to see what was coming and - just spitballing here - help from a large, well-funded agency with the authority to evacuate the island, maybe so many people wouldn't have died.

Also, Galveston didn't recover fully from the hurricane. Ever. Before, it was one of the most important cities in Texas. After, the city took so long to get going again that shipping companies took their business to the port in Houston, which of course is now one of the biggest cities in the country. Oh, but Galveston rebuilt its seawall all by itself! ** I'm sure that's totally worth the permanent loss of their economy.

At this exact moment, the more than 7,000 people who work for FEMA are working with officials in my state to get our power back on, get our beaches cleaned up so we don't lose the Labor Day business. At this exact moment, FEMA is sheltering tens of thousands of Americans who left their homes and businesses, people who might've died today if they hadn't had somewhere to go. All week, FEMA employees have been helping the states further up the coast prepare for the storm, minimizing loss of life and property.

Progressives, myself included, frequently accuse conservatives of wanting to roll back the clock. But Ron Paul literally went there, didn't he? All the way back more than a century, in fact. When I see someone who wants to be my president saying, with a straight face, that he's totally ok with my state (which just fired several thousand public employees to balance the budget, by the way) just fend for itself, I get angry.

What I see is a guy who's wealthy enough not to ever have to worry about how long it's going to take for the overwhelmed insurance company to send the check. And hey, good for him. But most of us, if our homes were flooded and everything we owned destroyed, would need a little help. Someone who doesn't grasp that has no business running this country.

UPDATE
** ...except they didn't. According to this source, "The City's credit was shaky after The Storm, so Galveston County stepped up to sell the necessary bonds." SOCIALISM!

Bad Movies I Love: “The Skulls”

I was dragged to see this 2000 action/suspense/drama thing twice in one weekend by different college friends, and this week I caught it on HBO for the first time in 11 years. At the time of its release, I knew that “The Skulls” was not the kind of movie I’d have chosen to pay money to see, because it was obviously crap… but on this week’s viewing I found myself associating it with the time and place where I saw it, which may happen with any movie we truly love. (That may be part of the reason we love them.) I was struck by how much I remembered, and even a few things I’d forgotten. And I was determined to watch it all the way through.

Why it’s bad: Don’t take my word for it. It’s got an 8 percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

“Dawson’s Creek”-era Joshua Jackson is a townie who’s escaped a life of stealing rusted-out cars to excel at the local Ivy League college (which is NOT YALE, people – colors, mascot, fight song, skull-based secret society and giant Y athletic logo notwithstanding), and whose only shot at paying for law school so he can be the next Morris Dees is to gain entry into the Skulls, which pay for members’ grad school. The Skulls are into him, too, because he’s an athlete and… that’s apparently it.

Anyway, our vaguely Irish-named hero does get his bid, and really doesn’t have to do a whole lot to be confirmed. Which seemed odd to me. I never joined a sorority (because Greek orgs always seemed to me to be how unoriginal people know who to make friends with), but the people I know who did always seemed to have to jump through a lot of hoops. The Skulls are kind of just like “Congrats, you’re a Skull, here’s twenty grand and a new car.” I guess they’re just very confident in their research.

Also tapped are BMOC Paul Walker (fresh off his role in “Varsity Blues”), whose dad is not only Craig T. frakking Nelson, but the current chair of the society. Paul and Joshua are partnered; dad’s partner from his undergrad days is now a U.S. Senator played by William “Gil Grissom from ‘CSI’” Petersen, who’s interested in Joshua because they’re both from blue-collar backgrounds.

Meanwhile, Joshua’s dismayed to learn that his pre-Skulls best friend (who, on pledge night, essentially told Joshua that he thought the Skulls were somewhere between douchebags and terrorists) – this is a shocking plot development here – doesn’t want to be friends now that Joshua’s a Skull. Before the BFFs can work it out, Friend (Hill Harper, who really should’ve had more to do… and who also was like 35 years old) steals Paul Walker’s super secret Skulls book and key (which silly Paul left in his car – tsk, tsk), and now Friend is sneaking into the Skulls HQ with a camera and tape recorder. Paul finds him and is angry (judging by his dialogue, not any actual facial expression), and the next thing you know, Friend is hanging in his room.

No, really. From a noose.

Joshua pretty much immediately figures out that Paul killed Friend, which is an interesting filmmaking decision because we’re only like 26 minutes into the movie at this point. So, the next hour and half or so are pretty much this: will Joshua say, screw it, I’m set for life, or will he try to bring his friend’s killer to justice? Gosh, movie goer, what do you think?

Oh, yeah. Also, there’s a girl.

Why I love it:

Because I guarantee that I could call up my college roommate right now and say, “Dad! I just killed this guy in the ritual room!” and we would both absolutely fall out.

It’s campy, and would probably be a better movie if it were even more campy. I’m trying to figure out what about “The Skulls” doesn’t work, and I can’t quite figure it out.

It’s not the cast, which looks even better now a decade later that they’ve gone onto better things. Although, I have to say, having seen Leslie Bibb in “Talladega Nights,” I kind of feel like she’s wasted here as the love interest who meets all your pizza-buying and mental hospital-escaping needs. (Idea: let’s remake “The Skulls” with Bibb as her “Talladega Nights” character. Instantly better movie.) I kind of feel that Jackson was perfectly cast as a guy who’s street smart, but also intellectual enough to hack it at Not Yale; this is a guy you could believe knows how to pick a lock. Paul Walker, bless his heart… he’s not a bad actor, but I honestly wonder if he made a bet to see how few facial expressions he could use in a feature-length film.

I blame the writing (at least the script that made it to the screen). For a “suspense” film, there’s not much suspense. For an action film, not much action. For a drama, not much of that, either. Melodrama, though, definitely. Its climax features a duel, for crying out loud. (With pistols!) There’s just not enough there there. I found myself wishing that the writers had spent more time on the personal impact of joining a secret society, and then thrown in the whole murder thing later on when sh*t needed to get real.

As it is, the movie’s plot structure is out of whack. Fifteen minutes in, a viewer should not know who’s good, who’s bad, and who’s going to die a horrible death.

Adventures at Wal-Mart on a Saturday night

I found myself needing a few things – sunscreen, those puffy shoe inserts, a pair of shorts – and didn’t get around to doing anything about it until about 9 p.m. tonight. At that time of night and with that shopping list, there’s only one place you can go: Wal-Mart.

The store was surprisingly un-crowded, and I quickly found everything I needed. On the way from Health & Beauty to the check-out, I made what turned out to be the fateful decision to stop at a bin of $5 DVDs. I normally pass those up because they tend to be full of movies you wouldn’t want even for free, but here was “The Shawshank Redemption” perched right on top. I spent a few minutes digging around the rest of the pile (passing up a boxed set of “Pumpkinhead,” “Leprechaun” and both “Jeepers Creepers” and “Jeepers Creepers 2”) and then went on to the checkout.

Even though the store wasn’t crowded, the fact that only a few registers were open meant the lines were long anyway. I got in one of the 20-items-or-less lines, because they always move fast, right? Counting the person being checked out at that moment, there were three people in front of me.

I had reading material, so it took me awhile to notice that things were taking an inordinate amount of time. The lady immediately in front of me ticked me off because she kept leaving her cart to walk off and look at those racks of cheap stuff they always put by the registers to try and get you to buy on impulse, so every time the line would advance slightly, I’d have to wait for her to notice and then begrudgingly tear herself away from the animal print-birthday candles or whatever. I thought about rear-ending her cart, but I didn’t want to get aggressive. We were going to be in line awhile.

Then it was ADD Lady’s turn at the register. Now, whenever there’s a slow line, I always hesitate to blame the cashier. You can’t force shoppers to have their money ready or remember that they have 47 coupons *before* they start checking out. And it can’t be pleasant to have to look up every other item because the tags are missing. (People who apparently get their kicks going through Wal-Mart and randomly taking off tags – please stop.) But this cashier was kind of, shall we say, deliberate in her movements, and as I would learn, easily distracted. So when she and ADD Lady joined forces, it was a perfect storm of aggravation.

I believe it was at this point that I glanced behind me and noticed that the rest of the line now stretched all the way across that wide walkway between the registers and the rest of the store, and had now started to bend at a 90-degree angle running adjacent to Women’s Fashion.

ADD Lady appeared to be buying nothing but baby stuff, all of it pink. Which means it was for a shower. Which means that, in addition to ringing up and paying, she had to note on her copy of a registry which items she was buying. Except that she was also buying stuff that wasn’t on the registry, so for some reason the process was more convoluted. Honestly, I’m not sure how the whole registry-scanning thing works, but it seemed to take a very long time.

ADD Baby Shower Lady also wanted one item, one of those little baby bath tubs they didn’t have back when my mom was dealing with this, in its own large bag. She also wanted her extra-large gift bag in its own shopping bag. Look, I’m not trying to get in anyone’s business, but I really don’t understand this. Bags are for helping you easily carry lots of little items. It seems kind of wasteful to demand a bag for one item that was perfectly carry-able by itself. Maybe her car trunk is really dirty from hauling used kitty litter to the dump or something. (See, THAT is what you put in a bag.)

As she finished her paying and bag gathering, I went ahead and put my whole eight items on the counter. I pulled out my wallet, and even got out my check card. I again looked behind me with a (hopefully) friendly smile, wanting to communicate to the roughly dozen or so people in line that I meant business; I wasn’t going to be the one to hold this thing up any longer; I was considerate.

It was at this point that I noticed that the guys behind me were buying ice cream. (And also a bulletin board. This is why Wal-Mart is awesome.)

It was one of those moments where you *know* what the polite thing to do is, like when someone’s buying you dinner and you offer to leave the tip. I mean, isn’t that a cardinal rule of manners, that when someone behind you has ice cream, you offer to let them go ahead of you? But all my stuff is already on the counter, and I’ve got my card out, and the ice cream still has a little frost on the lid… so I just went on ahead.

My check-out went very smoothly. I even went ahead and did that thing where you can swipe your card before the cashier is finished ringing you up, which I think is one of the greatest developments of the 21^st century so far. Then, we got to the discount DVD portion of our order.

The cashier stopped her item scanning, and she started examining “Shawshank” front and back. I’m thinking that she’s having the same reaction I did, which is slight amazement that I’m getting one of the best movies of the last 20 years for only five bucks, and then she said, “’The Redemption’? What’s that about?”

So many things running through my mind… A) How and why did you just not notice the middle word in the title, especially since it’s such a big one? B) How have you not heard of this movie? It was nominated for actual Oscars. Many of them. C) How do I distill the complexity and meaning of this film to something short, sweet and also accurate, because there’s ice cream melting behind me? Which brings me to D) DO YOU MAGICALLY NOT SEE ALL THE PEOPLE IN LINE BEHIND ME??? You REALLY want to talk film right now?

So I just said, “It’s about a guy who goes to prison for something he didn’t do.” And the cashier said, “That sounds terrible.” I’m not sure if she means the wrongful imprisonment of Andy Dufresne or the concept of the story itself, and at that point I didn’t really care. I think ice cream guys would approve.

On my way out, guess who was in front of me, slowly wheeling her cart full of four whole bags (including two large ones with one item each)? Why, it’s ADD Baby Shower Anal Bag Lady! Yes, she’s somehow still in the store. Fascinating.

When I was in college, my friends and I used to go to Wal-Mart when we couldn’t afford movie tickets, just because it was so entertaining. Sometimes I miss it, and tonight reminded me why.

(Tip: for a good time, hit up the Wal-Mart in Bristol, Va., on race weekend. Simply does not get any better than that.)

Cause and effect

Well, this is a surprise.

North Carolina's jobless rate just topped 10 percent for the first time in almost a year. What happened? "Private companies added 6,900 jobs, but state and local governments shed 12,100 workers. Local school districts made up a majority of the 11,800 layoffs by the state's local governments."

Those layoffs are the direct result of the budget put forth by our Republican-controlled Legislature. That would be the budget that Gov. Perdue vetoed, so don't even try and lay this at her feet. This is just the latest sad example of the short-sightedness of conservatives in our state.

Those 12,100 workers who are now unemployed (and therefore are getting taxpayer-funded unemployment benefits) paid mortgages or rent, they bought groceries and school supplies and hired plumbers. And they're able to do a lot less of that today. Which means that these budget cuts don't just affect the 12,100 who lost their jobs. They'll ripple throughout the local economy and will likely put a lot of others out of work, too.

Speaking of ripple effects... "Local school districts made up a majority of the 11,800 layoffs by the state's local governments."

So much of what's great about the state education system can be credited to decisions our governor and Legislature made 40 and 50 years ago - to establish the Governor's School enrichment program, the N.C. School of Science and Math and UNC School of the Arts, etc. These schools didn't just educate; they provided jobs and attracted professionals from across the country. Then their graduates went on to work and create jobs in a feedback loop that's pretty much solely responsible for, say, the Triad's film industry or the Research Triangle Park. Look at my city's annual film festival, or the investment bank where my sister works. Public education did that.

How many medical researchers are going to look at our Legislature's hostility to public investment and then take their lucrative operations elsewhere? How many internationally acclaimed filmmakers aren't going to come teach here? How many out-of-state tuition-paying parents aren't going to send their kids to college here? How many learning-disabled children are going to end up dropping out before they graduate high school? How many laid-off textile workers aren't going to be able to afford re-training at a local community college?

And how many jobs would these people go on to create or support? Conservatives love to talk about trickle-down economics as if it only applies to the wealthiest one percent of our population. Not true.

These are questions that our current Legislature doesn't seem to care about. I think we need to make them.

Quickie: Justice Dep't investigating S&P

Well, this just seems like sour grapes.

Not that it shouldn't happen... it's just that the federal government investigating S&P several years AFTER they abetted the screwing of this country's economy would have slightly more authority had it come BEFORE that same agency downgraded the U.S.'s credit.

A war in search of an objective

A few months ago, a friend who’s a local elected official had the opportunity to meet President Obama, and he posted a question on Facebook: if you could ask the president one question, what would it be? I (somewhat) jokingly said that I’d ask “when are you going to hire me?,” but now I think I’d have a different one.

If I met President Obama, or anyone in the administration for that matter, I think what I would say is, “Tell me in under 30 seconds why we’re still in Afghanistan.”

On Saturday, 22 Navy SEALs and seven Afghan troops were killed when their helicopter was shot down while they were on the way to support other troops. It’s the highest single-day death toll in the entire 10 years we’ve been fighting in Afghanistan.

In my experience, most Americans understood the need to go after Al Qaeda and the Taliban government that was sheltering them before and after the 9/11 attacks. But it’s that stark figure – 10 years – that gets me. After 10 years, what are we still doing there?

At the moment I’m about halfway through David McCullough’s 1776, which means I’m up to August, when the British army and Royal Navy cornered Gen. Washington and much of the Continental Army at New York. As we all know, only weeks earlier the colonies had formally declared independence from Great Britain. Before that, the war was something else, something nebulous. After the Declaration of Independence, the Loyalists living in the colonies didn’t magically decide to join the rebellion (far from it), but at least the people who were fighting had a clear purpose.

I’m hardly a military historian, but it does seem to me that the wars in America’s history that were the shortest were the ones whose objectives were clear and concrete. Either we’re independent or we aren’t. Either a rebellion is put down or it isn’t. Either we get control of a region or we don’t. But the wars that dragged on and on for a decade or more – Vietnam, the occupation of the Philippines, the Indian wars – seem to have been those where the people in charge couldn’t (or wouldn’t) articulate what exactly we were supposed to be trying to accomplish.

President Obama inherited this war, but he also escalated it. On the campaign trail three years ago, he basically said that his position on the Afghan war was to get bin Laden and get out. Well, we got bin Laden. And now members of the same SEAL unit that did so have lost 22 of their members. And still, we’re not out.

So I guess what I would tell the president is this: if you can’t make a case for continued involvement in Afghanistan in 30 seconds or less, then the objective isn’t clear enough. Either come up with some sort of clear “to-do” list, or stop sending the service men and women who’ve voluntarily given up their personal freedom in defense of this country to die there in an open-ended conflict that no one can seem to define.