the dems have their heads up their collective ass

[once again, i'm thinking that i'm a much better commenter than blogger--i.e., reaction seems to come more easily to me than action. case in point: this comment i just made to yet one more hillary v. obama post--hell, maybe this blog should consist of nothing more than a collection of my comments on other peoples' blogs.]

democrats can (and well may) argue back and forth about this all the way up to the convention, but what they're apparently oblivious to is the very real possibility that, when it comes down to voting time, the vast pool of independents that will determine the outcome of this election will--especially given the indecision of the dems themselves--turn its collective back on either/or the black guy with the funny name/the bitch with all the baggage, and opt instead for the perceived safety of daddy war-hero.

it really amazes me--the democrats are fighting this little battle among themselves as if the electorate-at-large will inevitably see it as they do: namely, that no matter which candidate they ultimately pick, it's just a given that he/she is inherently superior to anything the other side has to offer.

and i'm here to tell them that that's not a given at all--and that if they really wanna win in november, the dems had better get united behind one candidate and start fighting the bigger fight (and if you don't believe me, go read what howard dean's been saying lately--he totally gets it).

understand: i'm speaking here not as a liberal but as an independent fiscal conservative who, regardless of how much it pains him, is totally backing whoever the dems finally settle upon (which, if nothing else, should tell you how much the prospect of a mccain presidency scares me--and damn well should scare you).

[and yeah, i promise the "why mccain should scare you at least as much as he does me" post will be coming soon]

it's chilly in hell today

if anybody had ever told me that a situation would arise in which, short of having a gun held to my head, i would in sound mind and of my own volition cast a vote for hillary rodham clinton, i would've laughed in their face.

well, never say never.

[and for those among my legion of readers who are on pins and needles awaiting my penetrating analysis of john mccain: sorry, life has intervened--i'll get it out tomorrow]

the mccain problem (part 1)

[space--do not delete]

is ann coulter serious when she says that if mccain gets the republican nomination she'll support hillary over him?

with her you've always gotta wonder, but yeah, i actually think she might be--she is that anti-mccain, and she's far from alone among conservatives in that regard.

so why do they hate him--a fellow republican--so much? oh, there are all kinds of typical-republican reasons, such as:

• his distaste for the religious right
• his "soft" stance on terror (because he opposes waterboarding and other forms of torture, and advocates closing guantanamo)
  
• his criticism of rumsfeld (yeah, seriously)
  
• his co-authorship--along with a liberal anti-war democrat--of campaign-reform legislation

in addition they have a couple of, to my mind, seriously legitimate gripes against the guy:

• his votes against bush's middle-class tax cuts
• his collaboration with ted kennedy on a de facto amnesty bill for illegal immigrants

so basically, the right sees mccain as a maverick that can't be controlled or counted on to put his party's interests first--i.e., basically the same way the dems saw lieberman. normally, this independent streak would elevate a candidate in my estimation, but not in the case of mccain; on the contrary, i see him as by far the most dangerous of the four remaining viable candidates--and for some reasons that nobody seems to be talking about.

until tomorrow, anyway.

from the "takes one to know one" file

test
"I pity the guy who takes Rudy for vice-anything; he'll need a food taster."

Al Sharpton, 1997

words to the wise, all i'm sayin.

the fatal four

let's handicap the republicans first:

john mccain

• strengths: most experienced, seasoned insider, war hero, reputation as a straight shooter and bipartisan coalition-builder, stalwart in the war against terror.
  

• fatal flaws: despised as a turncoat and closet liberal by his own party's base (even rush limbaugh hates him); seen as old, out-of-touch and a probable continuation of the bush administration by most everybody else.

mitt romney

• strengths: smart, accomplished, god-fearing, self-made man, superb executive, grasp of world economy, reputation as problem-solver, impeccable personal and business history, great hair, profile fit for a coin, picture-postcard family.

• fatal flaws: mormon, branded as untrustworthy by left and right alike due to blatant and unconvincing shape-shifting from massachusetts social-progressive to red-state conservative, mormon, off-putting elitist persona--and did i mention his religion?

and now, the democrats:

barack obama

• strengths: smart, sexy (around here, he's barack obaby), accomplished, idealistic, passionate, seen as anti-iraq-war visionary, articulate sweet-talker, charismatic as all get-out, great wife and kids--and that momentum.

• fatal flaws: black, young, scary-inexperienced, unproven, unseasoned--and that name (especially the middle one).

hillary clinton

• strengths: smart, seasoned, powerful, policy-savvy, husband's legacy, high profile, inevitability factor.

• fatal flaws: female, alienating persona, husband's demagoguery, the fact that she's hillary clinton.

bottom line? given all the variables, and regardless of which horse i might personally back, i can see only one sure-fire winner come november--one truly inevitable candidate.

and his name is al gore.

history may not repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme

Herbert Hoover--only nine months into his presidency--assembled leaders from the public and private sectors to create an economic-stimulus package. Among the measures, Time magazine reported at the time, was a promise from Congress to offer bipartisan support for a tax-cut package.

excerpt from an interesting little article by michael kitchen over at marketwatch pointing out the similarities between what happened in 1929 and what's happening now. because, as he points out, the great depression didn't just suddenly begin full-blown with the october crash--it was only seen that way in retrospect. in actuality, our gradual slide into depression took place over the course of a couple years, marked by the same sorts of events we are seeing today.

definitely worth reading even if you're not an impending-doom junkie like me.

gutterball

the following is the text of an e-mail to my friend rob:

heybabe--so i'm driving home tonight, tired and annoyed, coming up canon to sunset; as always, this being beverly hills, light's red--you don't stop at every light in this little city they're not doing their goddam job.

and as always there's like six cars ahead of me but, as always, knowing that once canon crosses sunset the two lanes narrow to one, they obligingly guide their jags and bimmers and benzes leftward into single-file formation, nice and orderly and civilized like the pampered sheep they are--leaving the right lane wide open for an ill-mannered, deftly-executed white-trash gutterball maneuver (a specialty of mine, as you well know).

it's a subtle art, the gutterball, harder than it looks. timing is everything--it's all about rolling abreast of the lead car at the precise moment the light turns green. scrub off too much speed, you're behind when the light turns and the advantage is lost. too fast, even worse--if you have to brake before the light turns you're dead in the water, hardly better off than the pigeon you're trying to beat.

i'm on my home turf though, and i've done this a thousand times--i swing into the vacant right lane, double-clutch and downshift to second with practiced ease, time my approach, totally focused on the light--sunset side of course--because i know from long experience the exact moment at which it will turn yellow and then, four-and-a-half seconds later, gimme the green.

and at the precise instant this sequence of events plays out, i gun it, streak past the startled herd into the intersection and take the pole position--cold day in hell when mkf gets stuck behind a procession of snail's-pace grandmas all the way up the goddam canyon, especially after the day he's had. just one more perfectly-executed gutterball--like shooting fish in a barrel, as always.

except this time, it wasn't as always--because this time, there's this bus i never even see until it's right on top of me.

yeah, a bus--on this particular night, the driver of an eastbound-on-sunset los angeles city bus rolls the dice and decides, for whatever reason, that he can safely blow through the light at benedict canyon. maybe he's running late, maybe he too is tired of stopping at every light, or maybe he's counting on the customary genteel beverly hills pause before opposing traffic proceeds, i dunno--but the one thing i can tell you for sure is, the last goddam thing he expects is my ass barreling through the intersection crossways at him the instant the light turns green. i know this without a shadow of a doubt because i see the look on his face when he realizes what's about to happen and hits his brakes--probably the same thing he sees in my face, now that i think about it.

and now, the tragedy: much as it kills me to tell you this, my up-until-now-dormant instinct for healthy self-preservation suddenly and inexplicably selects this inopportune moment to rear its ugly head, causing me to reflexively slam on my own brakes (good ones, as it turns out--goddam japs have the ABS thing down cold) and the bus and i come to a screeching, smoking, fishtailing halt with scant inches between us--a skin-of-your-teeth near miss if there ever was one, lemme tell you.

even now as i'm writing this, i get cold chills when i think about what almost happened, rob: getting creamed by a city bus running a light, knocked around some--hell, maybe even injured--in front of six cars full of impeccably-credentialed witnesses, and me stone-cold sober with no open alcohol in the car--talk about a rare alignment of the goddam planets.

we coulda been so rich--and i blew it.

[note to readers: aside from being a beloved long-time friend, rob is also a personal-injury attorney.]