each time I feel it slippin' away

From "in gratitude..." by Albert Feldstein & Wallace Wood, printed in Shock SuspenStories #11, Oct-Nov 1953
Well, I thought it was a magnificent speech. Eschewing the usual penny-ante gotcha politicking and expedient dissembling, Barack Obama took the opportunity in speech last Tuesday to not simply address the politically troubling remarks of his pastor, but to offer an insightful look into where we are as a diverse nation, and where we could, and should go from there. "We," as in all of us.

For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conflict, and cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle – as we did in the OJ trial – or in the wake of tragedy, as we did in the aftermath of Katrina - or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright’s sermons on every channel, every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think that I somehow believe or sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as evidence that she’s playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all flock to John McCain in the general election regardless of his policies.

I am not so naive to think that a speech, however eloquent, done under the pressure of "dealing" with a campaign controversy automatically equals "what will be." The usual segments of the chattering classes (or is that "nattering nabobs?) have been laboring to spin, dissect, and analyze Obama's lofty sentiments -- He's "dodging the issue," he didn't go far enough to condemn Reverend Wright's remarks, what does it mean for his poll numbers -- as another action in the great and cynical game of politics.

The speech and the sentiments expressed therein stand head and shoulders above the present election narrative. As dictated by the sensationalist, Heisenbergian format of modern journalism, the election process has been reduced to a gaudy sideshow cast in terms more purple than the commentary at a pro-wrestling match (the better to fill the time between pharmaceutical ads). In such an environment, cynical calculated behavior has become the order of the day for aspriring candidates. Principles are dealt out like cards in a game of blackjack, with the goal of hitting electibility without going bust. "I stand for X, except when I was against it." "I stand for X, unless this important voting bloc wants me to stand for Y instead."

Even if Obama's speech was bullshit, it was a better class of bullshit than any I've encountered so far this election, and, to reiterate what Dave Lartigue has already said, it's light-years ahead of what we've seen from the other two candidates, whether the short-sighted divisive tactics employed by the Clinton camp or McCain's obsequious efforts to pander to fundamentalist demagogues whose documented views meet and exceed anything that has ever come from Reverend Wright's pulpit. ("But they aren't McCain's personal ministers," say the pundits. No, they just get an inordinate amount of access and power to shape government policy...which is more acceptible, somehow.)

Brinsley Schwarz - (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding (from The New Favourites of..., 1974) - I've said it before, I'll say it again: Nick Lowe trumps Elvis Costello.

sweet land of liberty, feels like a prison to me

The reaction to the already-infamous Civil War: Frontline #11 has been echoing across the comics internet for the past twenty-four hours. That makes it old hat at this point, but I still feel the need to ask, “What the fuck, Marvel?”

In the unlikely event you haven’t yet heard the news, the Michelle Malkin-in-training (Boy, the Daily Bugle will hire anyone these days.) featured in the above panels takes Captain America to task because his quaint ideals – y’know, justice, freedom, and equality – don’t encompass the “real” America of MySpace, NASCAR and YouTube (her namedrops, not mine) and the diminished set of expectations passed off as the true face of our national beast.

As a commenter on Kevin Church’s site pointed out, it’s a bastardized version of an old Michael Moore spiel. Moore’s argument was that there is a huge pool of sympathy for classically liberal ideas among the “unwashed masses,” but the political elites need to leave their ivory towers and speak to – not “down to” – these people. It’s a valid idea, proved by the results of Howard Dean’s full court press strategy for the 2006 congressional elections, but it has a very specific context. It boils down to (in my words, not Moore’s): “We are not so different, you and I. Not nearly as different as those billionaire motherfuckers who exploit your religious convictions in order to push more tax cuts for themselves through congress.” (Yeah, yeah, the Democrats are no great shakes, either, but I’ll take “inept” over “evil” any day of the week.)

As presented in Frontline, the argument isn’t about the dangers of being out of touch, but as a false dichotomy between idealism and realism: “How dare you disrupt the shitty world I had grown comfortable with, when you can’t even name a single contestant on American Idol!” I can’t tell you how many times someone has told me that when I “grew up,” I’d evolve past my idealism and accept how “the world works.” I’m going to turn 35 in two weeks, and it hasn’t happened yet. If anything, my idealism has grown stronger over time. It’s has been tempered by empirical factors, but the underlying convictions remain rock solid. That pressure to accept the status quo strikes me as the evangelizing of the shoulder-shrugger, the whimper of a whipped dog attempting to justify why it wears a leash and collar.

I’m all for the common touch, but anyone who tries to define their “Americanism” by mass culture trends of the moment, and not by ideals is a fucking dipshit. Even as a counter-point in a work of disposable fiction, it’s beneath contempt. The only thing that could have made it more embarassing would have been to have a Greek chorus of 9/11 first responders echoing the sentiments in the background. Given Marvel's willingness to exploit or hamfistedly emote over (U DECIDE!) the events of that day, I'm surprised they didn't take that route.

Toxic Reasons – God Bless America (from Kill By Remote Control, 1984)

The Checkers – Seeing Spots (from Make a Move, 2003)