Words on words and music and some on other words:

My dear friend and fellow scribe, Chris Estey, recently asked me and a scoop of other writers and musicians which album, given our druthers, we'd tackle for the 33 1/3 book series. The answers are featured on Three Imaginary Girls:

http://threeimaginarygirls.com/features/2008apr/whatwouldyour3313be

The aforementioned Mr. Estey is covering the seminal EMP Music Conference all weekend for KEXP and the result is a crackling good time:

http://depts.washington.edu/kexp/blog/?p=5501#comment-85853

My "Bleacher Friction" piece is also on the literary blog I sometimes write for, The Nervous Breakdown, replete w/ lively comments:

http://thenervousbreakdown.com/

Bleacher friction, lefty thuggery, a Hobbit: notes from the 36th District Democratic Convention

Two months ago at the Washington State Democratic Caucus, I was elected an Obama delegate to the 36th District Democratic Convention. As my cousin, Ellie, said recently, "Litz, I'd be more surprised if you weren't totally supporting Obama." As is often true with those who love you most, she meant it as both a compliment and a dig. Which is fine, as she treated me to a very nice steak last night.

As per the literature I'd received, I arrived at 8:45 a.m. on Saturday at Ballard High School to sign in early for the day's proceedings. (Mad props to my dad, a lifelong moderate Republican, for picking me up and dropping me off. While this is a great time in my life, things have been dicey physically. Dad usually rises at 4:00 a.m. and he knows how sick I am in the mornings, so when he found out I had to be there early, he volunteered to transport me. Righteous that the father/daughter thing supercedes party affiliation.)

After traversing the lines required to establish credentials, etc., I entered the gymnasium and found a seat on a low bleacher riser in the delegate section. Two women in Hillary shirts sat in front of me and grimaced when they saw my Obama button. I managed a tight smile, but in all fairness, it's not as if I wanted to hug them, either. As other Hillary supporters filed in, the women beckoned them over and soon I was the lone Obama delegate in the front two rows. They introduced themselves to each other and pointedly ignored me. I was tempted to join the Obama crew forming nearby, but found the fly/ointment scenario too appealing. The Clinton ladies kept uneasily eyeing my notebook, and while they were trashing Obama and the media, I would have taken notes regardless, because, like many writers, that's what I do. I agreed with them on certain points, too: Republicans will scream, "Pastor Wright!" all through the general; some jibes against Hillary are sexist.

A guy waving an Obama sign ran down an aisle yelling, "We're about change! We're about our children's future!" If I'd had a week to live, I would have stabbed him in the lungs. As it was, I took another hit of coffee and hoped his shoelaces might untie. Then other Obama supporters hoisted placards and Hillary folks responded in kind and the whole things smacked of a homecoming rally, with less hair and more fleece. (Much like an aerophobic self-hypnotizes before take-off, I focused intently to block out the rampant fleece.)

A district official gave an eloquent and heartfelt introduction and for the next two hours, Washington State Democratic candidates and elected representatives sequentially addressed the 3000+ crowd. When Congressman Jim McDermott approached the podium, he received a standing ovation, minus one curly-haired Greek girl. I do not understand why Seattle Democrats love this guy so much. He's been in office since I was a little kid, and while I often agree with him on the issues, I think he's kind of a thug, but for the left. Seriously, why is it okay that he illegally taped Newt Gingrich? Brain-damaged alligators have a more acutely honed sense of ethics than Gingrich, but we can't cry, "Watergate!" when Republicans pull this shit but look the other way when our side does it. And I disagree with McDermott's points in Fahrenheit 911. If the Bush administration is as inept as he claims--and he's right here--then there's more of a reason to be scared, not less.

We arrived at the time where the Obama and Clinton camps were each allowed three minutes to sway the throng. Clinton's apostate spoke first and it was the actor, Sean Astin. A man near me lifted a homemade sign that read, "HOBBITS FOR HILLARY!" so clearly at least a few knew he was on the roster. Astin said he likes Obama and will gladly vote for him if he's the nominee, then discussed why he supports Hillary. He was a class act, but spent most of his 180 seconds discussing Clinton's "barrier-shattering" tenure as First Lady. His assessment was accurate, of course, but the only time he mentioned her role in the Senate was to note she won re-election by "a landslide".

The Obama contingent decided to divide their time among four speakers, and the first was a 79 year-old grandmother whose family emigrated to the U.S. after escaping the Nazis in 1938. She said she wants her grandchildren to live in a country wherein they are proud of the president, his accomplishments, and what he stands for. Her words were lovely and meaningful and everyone clapped loudly. Next was a guy in his twenties who, if he convinced anyone of anything, it was that his parents should be forced to pay reparations for spawning such a cloying fuckwad. He spoke almost entirely in non-sequiturs, announced, "For Obama, style is substance!" and usurped the remaining time so that the other Obama speakers were shut out. A Hillary supporter in front of me asked loudly, "What did that even mean?" and I leaned forward and said, "For what it's worth, I completely agree with you. He was awful." She met me halfway and pleasantly responded, "Well, I guess we're all amateurs here."

The next several hours were spent discussing and voting on the 36th District platforms and resolutions. Issues included ending the Iraq War, a pledge of support to our troops and veterans, providing universal health care, and the exigent need to halt climate change. At this point, I had been sitting on the floor for the past two hours with my legs stretched out, unable to remain contorted in the bleachers. The chills were awful and when one of the Hillary supporters saw my cane, she asked if I wanted her seat. I thanked her and explained that I needed to stretch my legs--hence sitting on the floor--and that I had my water and Cliff Bar and would be fine. The chills became almost unbearable, though, and when it became evident that we were five and a half hours into things and still several hours away from electing delegates to the convention in Denver, I knew I had to leave. If I became much sicker, I would be immobilized for the upcoming week and I cannot spare that kind of time away from my novel. I'd concluded weeks before I didn't want to go to Denver--again, the novel and health--but I'd wanted to vote for those who would. However, I knew the district brimmed with erudite Obama supporters--aforementioned asswipes to the contrary--and that, in a state where Obama won every county, my presence the rest of the day would have negligible impact, except to weaken me.

At 2:15, I took a last look around the room, exited the gymnasium, went outside and called my dad.

Hooray! Only seven more months to go:

• Listening to Hillary Clinton tell a joke is like thinking about your own conception. Either way, you're unlikely to eat for the next hour.

• Maureen Dowd referred to Barack Obama as "effete" again today. Didn't she throw the same shit at Al Gore in 2000? Admittedly, neither guy is butch, but last I heard, the job requires no working knowledge of belt sanders. Not sure why Dowd needs a president who swings his dick with one hand and crushes Bud cans in the other.

• It's nice, though, to have reached the long overdue point in history where an African-American man isn't automatically assumed to be tough.

• If John McCain endorses Viagra like Bob Dole did after his '96 loss, my lady parts and I are emigrating far, far away.
  

Surpassing, even, mint and chocolate or eggs and Sunday mornings

As noted before, I'm not a big fan of YouTube, largely because I have things I still want to accomplish before I'm dead and it's not as if there's an infinite amount of time in which to do them.

But I'm psyched for the upcoming DCfC disc, so I thought I'd peruse some of the lads' concert footage to tide me over. Then I stumbled upon this video for "I Will Follow You Into the Dark", which is lovely and appropriate for all sorts of reasons:

Goddamnit, people, I'm in no mood for this shit: Cooper House to become office space

I'm thrilled that it's not going to be demolished, but it's about a mile from here and it kills me that in a city teeming with the newly rich, no one had the wherewithal to restore and augment its glory. If I had the money, I know exactly what I'd do with it. And, yes, the bunnies would have their own wing.

Details:

http://blog.seattlepi.nwsource.com/realestatenews/archives/134955.asp

Lulu

For the past week, I've wanted to address Geraldine Ferraro's ludicrous screed and the more batshit elements of Pastor Wright's beliefs. I respect each of them in some ways and in others think they're gargling bongwater. And there's much I want to say about the complex, challenging, and moving speech Senator Obama gave this morning.

But I discovered last Friday that Lulu has lung cancer. (Initially, it presented more like arthritis, which would have given her more time.) She's almost ten, which is impressively old for a rabbit, particularly a Holland Lop, and up until a few weeks ago, she was a super-intelligent, sprightly ball of fluff. She and her remaining brothers have had a great run of things and I love them (and Oscar, who died in '03) like I love my family and friends. But she's getting sicker rapidly and this morning, I made the call. Tomorrow at 3:00 p.m. her vet will euthanize her and I'll be in the room soothing her.

So there's much I want to write about the campaign, but I won't right now, because my heart and head are filled with sand.

Gentlemen, if we may have a word:

I'm not going to write about Elliot Spitzer except to say I think he should resign. Not because he cheated on his spouse, but because he violated the same laws he once prosecuted as New York Attorney General, indicating his judgment is way out of whack. (Bonus points to The Daily Show for deeming it "Fuck-gate".)

Instead I'm going to address the headline on the bottom left of the current issue of Esquire, "WHEN THE HELL DID 39 YEAR-OLD WOMEN GET TO BE SEXY?". My Esquire editor is awesome as popcorn and I've read Esquire since high school. Also, I understand that, ostensibly, the headline is complimentary and, no, I haven't had a chance to read the piece yet. My beef is strictly with the headline's implicit surprise. So, to the editor(s) who wrote and approved the headline, I say this:

1) If I took my shirt off, I guarantee you'd stay in the room and,

2) Eat a bag of dicks.

Toodles,
Litsa

Pre-sleep thoughts on Democrats:

1) Florida and Michigan party officials drank lead-based paint as kids.

2) Bill Clinton is the ex you tried to stay friends with but who keeps trying to fuck you. Dude, you're not getting back in.

3) I wish Hillary didn't represent New York. It's like your high school principal managing the Beatles.

"You used to be able to tell the difference between hipsters and homeless people. Now, it's between hipsters and retards. I mean...

...either that guy in the corner in orange safety pants holding a protest sign and wearing a top hat is mentally disabled or he is the coolest fucking guy you will ever know."

Chuck Klosterman is wiser than your grandpa and writes better than a fish swims. From the online version of New York Magazine:

http://nymag.com/daily/intel/2008/03/chuck_klosterman_on_the_differ.html

A Quantitative Overview of the Only Individuals or Entities More Annoying than the Democratic Voting Populace of Ohio:

• My Legal Writing professor who had the I.Q. of a sand fly and the writing skills of its larvae

• The half-life of plutonium

• Wes Unseld of the Washington Bullets and his cry baby antics during the 1978 NBA Championship against the Seattle Supersonics

• Large chunks of black peppercorns in otherwise delicious Italian salami

• The gum stuck to the bottom of my white Pumas

• Women who allow David Lee Roth to penetrate them
  

• The phalanges and sexual organ of David Lee Roth

• Hitler's mom's gynecologist

• The CNN producer who, apparently, elects not to cock-punch Lou Dobbs before and after each segment
  

• Any dining partner, who, upon discovering that I don't like olives, responds with, "You don't like olives? But you're Greek! Ha! Ha!"

• Those who act as if their preference for tea instead of coffee connotes moral superiority

• The clog in my garbage disposal

• White people who post their umbrage on stuffwhitepeoplelike.com

• That bacon originates and results in death

• Ragweed

• The Democratic voting populace of Texas
  

Yeah, but I don't wear ass-less pants:

A guy who is the spitting image of Rob Halford just looked up at my kitchen window, saw me pouring tea in my sushi pajamas, and smirked.

I'll listen to Journey for a month and wear a fleece hoodie in public if someone...

...can explain to me how Chris Matthews has a job.

The homeless guy who routes for change in the convenience store pay phone across the street speaks in the same cadence and is every bit as lucid.

Does Matthews have a G.E. executive's mom duct taped to the water heater in his basement?

There's no other explanation.

What the fuck?

I can't fathom the circumstances under which this decision would make sense.

From today's Dallas Star-Telegram via Wonkette:

Police Concerned about Order to Stop Weapons Screening at Obama Rally:

By JACK DOUGLAS Jr.

Star-Telegram Staff Writer

DALLAS -- Security details at Barack Obama's rally Wednesday stopped screening people for weapons at the front gates more than an hour before the Democratic presidential candidate took the stage at Reunion Arena.

The order to put down the metal detectors and stop checking purses and laptop bags came as a surprise to several Dallas police officers who said they believed it was a lapse in security.

Dallas Deputy Police Chief T.W. Lawrence, head of the Police Department's homeland security and special operations divisions, said the order -- apparently made by the U.S. Secret Service -- was meant to speed up the long lines outside and fill the arena's vacant seats before Obama came on.

"Sure," said Lawrence, when asked if he was concerned by the great number of people who had gotten into the building without being checked. But, he added, the turnout of more than 17,000 people seemed to be a "friendly crowd."

The Secret Service did not return a call from the Star-Telegram seeking comment.

Doors opened to the public at 10 a.m., and for the first hour security officers scanned each person who came in and checked their belongings in a process that kept movement of the long lines at a crawl. Then, about 11 a.m., an order came down to allow the people in without being checked.

Several Dallas police officers said it worried them that the arena was packed with people who got in without even a cursory inspection.

They spoke on condition of anonymity because, they said, the order was made by federal officials who were in charge of security at the event.

"How can you not be concerned in this day and age," said one policeman.

JACK DOUGLAS Jr., 817-390-7700
jld@star-telegram.com

Link:

http://www.star-telegram.com/dallas_news/story/486413.html

Because we could all use a pallate cleanser:

The video for Chris Walla's awesomely catchy and moving-in-a-good-way "Sing Again" packs more familiar faces and indie fun times than the green room at Neumo's. Commence with rockin'. Or bending slightly at the knees and swaying almost imperceptibly. (I say it with love, emotards I stand behind at shows.)

On plagarism and pride:

As everyone knows by now, Governor Deval Patrick and Senator Barack Obama have been friends and political allies for fifteen years and both say they talk several times a week. David Axelrod helped coordinate Patrick's campaign and oversees Obama's and according to CNN, as early as a year ago, both Patrick and Obama said publicly that they sometimes use each other's lines. Since yesterday, in at least two interviews, Patrick has made abundantly clear that they sometimes swap adages and that he encouraged Obama to employ the phrases in question. Plagiarism, by definition, involves theft. As a writer, I take the charge extremely seriously. If I thought Obama stole another's words, I'd forfeit my position as county delegate. But it's like Patrick gave him the keys and said, "Here, borrow my car" and the Clinton campaign is crying, "Grand theft auto!" Logically and morally, it doesn't make sense.

Re what Michelle Obama said about feeling pride in her country for the first time in her adult life: I have complete respect for her and I like that she often speaks off the cuff and perhaps she misspoke, but any way you parse it, it was a ridiculous thing for a potential first lady to say to a room full of reporters. Please, Mrs. Obama, do not morph into Teresa Heinz-Kerry.

"Besides, if there is another life after this one, think how much we'll get to laugh watching it all...."--Molly Ivins; "I've always said that in...

...politics, your enemies can't hurt you, but your friends will kill you.”--Ann Richards

As the Texas primary looms, I can't help but wish Molly Ivins and Ann Richards were still alive.

On the precipice of turning 41:

1) Regarding my last post: I was wrong about Denver. All of us who were elected county delegates at Saturday's caucus must attend our legislative district caucus on April 5 and/or the county convention on April 19. Then we attend our congressional district caucus on May 17th. Out of the county delegates, a group of convention delegates is elected. They attend the state convention in Spokane on June 14 and then, of course, the DNC in Denver August 25-28.

At my caucus on Saturday, I was elected precinct secretary and asked to speak on behalf of Obama before being elected one of the county delegates, so I was recording the caucus minutes and discussing with Obama supporters the points we should make and it's entirely possible something got lost in the fray. But I asked a number of detailed questions of those running the show and was under the impression no one was quite sure what the hell was going on. Or if they were clued in, they were unable to elucidate the proceedings.

I still had a number of questions and went to the Washington State Democratic Party web site and as far as I can discern, the info I listed above is correct. I know a whole bunch of writers who tend to vote Democrat and I might corral said scribes and see if all of us can help with the party's written materials. There's no way a button for the state party crab feed should be front and center but the delegates should have to dig around to find what, exactly, we're supposed to do. And I think it's confusing to refer to both county delegates and convention delegates as "delegates", even if the latter is elected from the former. It's sort of like calling prime rib and sirloin steak the same thing because they both come from cow, when really, they're similar but different.

Given the deadlines of my novel and the parameters of my health, I'm not sure if I'm going to try to get elected a convention delegate. I want to go--of course--and am fairly certain one of my editors will assign something in conjunction, but I don't want to end up in a wheelchair with an unfinished novel in order to do so. I've decided to take it day by day: if I'm persistently ambulatory and still writin' well when the congressional district caucus rolls 'round on May 17, I might toss my hat in the ring. We'll see.

[Side note: My condo on Nickerson hasn't sold yet and I'm still registered in that precinct. I'd read that you could "re-register", i.e. update your address and precinct at your new precinct caucus site on caucus day, but so much of what I'd read that week was incorrect, so I decided not to risk it. I caucused at the Coe School on Queen Anne instead of Prospect Church on Cap Hill and while I missed hanging with my new neighbors, it was nice seeing some of my old ones.]

2) What's up with Democrats wringing their hands over the notion of "electability"? Yesterday I read in the New York Times and in the Stranger online two different pieces decrying the impetus to choose a candidate based, in part, on whether she or he can get elected in November. I agree with the larger points: that it's a bit cynical and that it's impossible to predict with utmost certainty what voters will do, particularly this year.

But here's the thing: Democrats haven't won the White House with a significant majority of the popular vote since Carter beat Ford in 1976, and that was in huge part because Ford pardoned Nixon. Clinton didn't win a majority of the popular vote in 1992 or 1996--hey, Ross Perot!--and it left him without a mandate and vulnerable to the Gingrich-led smackdown in 1994. Gore won the popular vote, but just barely, and while it seems clear the Supreme Court decided the outcome, the Florida embarrassment could have been avoided if the esteemed Vice President had won his home state.

So yes, "electability" isn't an ideologically pure notion, but it is an important one. Humphrey, McGovern, Mondale, Dukakis, and Kerry all have one thing in common, you know? I happen to agree with most of Obama's positions--he still hasn't sold me on nuclear energy--and I think he has the best shot to beat McCain, so the electability question isn't a tripwire for me. And no, I'm not naive. I realize I think an African American first-term senator will beat a decorated war hero who's whiter than toothpaste. But I know many life-long Republicans and Bill Clinton voters in several states who are voting for Obama and I think that's significant. No matter what, though, I believe it's crucial to remember how difficult the next nine months will be and that all three candidates have smart, conscientious supporters in their camps.

3) For the most part, being 40 was awesome. The novel, new home, dudes, and donuts. If possible, I heartily recommend living at least this long.

4) And now I'm 41. So far, so good.

It's been a long and invigorating weekend and I can barely keep my eyes open, but...

...I'm pleased to report that at my caucus site on Saturday, I was asked to speak on behalf of the precinct's Obama supporters, then I was asked to be a delegate at the Democratic National Convention. Denver, ho! I know his positions in fair detail, but I intend to learn them as well as Daschle. Re Friday's rally at Key Arena, I'm too tired to elaborate and if you're voting for him, you've read about it by now. Also, I don't want to proselytize.

And because we've got nine months to go and it's important to keep a sense of humor:

http://wonkette.com/354429/which-horrific-swamp-beast-would-you-elect-president

Recappin':

• I figured HRC would take California, but you have to give her props for winning Massachusetts. Obviously, I'm displeased, but I'm not Teddy's biggest fan and I'm intrigued that Massachusetts Dems, of all voters, weren't swayed by the Kennedy mystique. (They weren't swayed by John Kerry or Deval Patrick, either, but that's ultimately less noteworthy.)
  

• I think Obama's momentum will propel him to win the nomination. If I'm wrong, though, like I've said before, I'll back Hillary. I've read a bunch of comments on sundry message boards today wherein supporters of both parties have said they'll jump ship if their candidate isn't the pick. Weird that any voter could lose sight of the Supreme Court.

• My dad grew up under Nazi occupation in Greece and survived the country's subsequent civil war. I have so many family members who grew up without food and shelter, much less the right to vote, so election years always resonate with me. I feel grateful to have been born here and in this era.

• Read that Mitt Romney has spent nearly forty million of his own cash in this campaign. Can't help but think that, after all this dies down, his kids (and presumptive heirs) are going to be pissed.

• Cindy McCain's hair tonight was colored and styled exactly like Gwen Stefani's. Unintentional no doubt (rim shot!), but I like that, while her husband is going on about showing that dipshit Rumsfeld a thing or two, she might be channeling her inner rock star.
  

• I don't understand women who vote for Huckabee. If a candidate proclaimed, "All darkies should fix me a sammich!" she or he wouldn't garner African-American votes. Yet ladies surround Mike on the dais. Evangelicals of any stripe perplex me.

• The 2008 campaign seems like it was scripted by Aaron Sorkin on Red Bull. I mean that in a good way.
  

Or fuck Sam Giancana's mistress:

One of the smartest comments of the week, and certainly the funniest, comes from Ramesh Ponnuru at the National Review re Caroline Kennedy's New York Times editorial endorsing Obama:

"She says that Obama could be a president like her father. I assume that means he'll be overrated, not that he'll bring us to the brink of nuclear war."

I respect Caroline Kennedy quite a bit, but for eight years I attended Catholic schools where JFK was considered on par with Jesus, the Pope and ice cream. So I find it refreshing whenever a more objective view of our thirty-fifth chief executive is presented.

Link:

http://corner.nationalreview.com/post/?q=MjU5MjJkNjRjODlhZjgzNDQxZDZhYjk4ZTFmZTE2MDI=