In my book, "Myths, Lies and Downright Stupidity," I bet my readers $1,000 that they couldn't name one thing that government does better than the private sector.Gee, how about crafting “a landmark piece of legislation in the United States that outlawed unequal application of voter registration requirements and racial segregation in schools, at the workplace and by facilities that served the general public,” as noted here?
I have yet to pay.
Oh, sorry, I forgot – Stossel has a problem with the 1964 Civil Rights Act, as noted here, in particular the “public accommodation” section "because private businesses ought to get to discriminate. And I won't ever go to a place that's racist and I will tell everybody else not to and I'll speak against them. But it should be their right to be racist” (and kudos to Color of Change for calling Stossel out on this garbage).
All of which proves that Stossel has never completely recovered from the head shot he received from “rassler” David Schultz here (not to be confused with the former Flyers hockey player).
Oh, and by the way Stossel, you can keep your money. I wouldn’t take a dime from you anyway.
If politics were literature, Bill Clinton would be Tom Buchanan in "The Great Gatsby," casually smashing lives around him while remaining untouched by the chaos he creates.Class move by Gerson to compare Number 42 with a philandering racist millionaire.
And Clinton was “untouched”? Seriously?
Try reading this.
Continuing…
Barack Obama is more like Macon Leary in "The Accidental Tourist," the author of tour guides who hates travel. "He was happiest with a regular scheme of things" -- a cautious driver and committed flosser, systematic and steady, suspicious of unpredictable yearnings, displaying an "appalling calm" in times of crisis. "If you let yourself get angry you'll be . . . consumed," Macon says. "You'll burn up. It's not productive." Only order and method are productive. He is attracted to the "virtuous delights of organizing a disorganized country."Macon Leary in “The Accidental Tourist” was one of the most disaffected characters I’d ever read in English literature, to the point where his inhibitions and neuroses had, at times, made him nearly comatose. The only object I can think of showing less emotion and response is a piece of balsa wood.
Macon uses structure and rationality to avoid facing personal loss. Obama's emotional distance seems rooted in self-sufficiency -- a stout fortress of self-confidence. But the effect is much the same. Obama leads a country without reflecting its passions -- at least any he is willing to share. Events leave him apparently untouched. He doesn't need the crowd. Americans have always loved Obama more than he seems to care for us.
I realize that I shouldn’t get too worked up by this since this is yet an umpteenth variation on the “Obama as Spock” theme beaten to death by MoDo, among others. However, before anyone gets too carried away yet again with the notion that Obama is some kind of an alien from outer space, I would ask that you consider the following from an Op-Ed Obama wrote for the Hyde Park Herald newspaper soon after the 9/11 attacks, particularly the following…
"Even as I hope for some measure of peace and comfort to the bereaved families," Obama wrote, "I must also hope that we as a nation draw some measure of wisdom from this tragedy. Certain immediate lessons are clear, and we must act upon those lessons decisively. We need to step up security at our airports. We must reexamine the effectiveness of our intelligence networks. And we must be resolute in identifying the perpetrators of these heinous acts and dismantling their organizations of destruction.One more thing – Gerson’s glowing rhetoric full of subtle digs that he concocted in the service of Former President Highest Disapproval Rating In Gallup Poll History has been well documented (“the soft bigotry of low expectations,” and the like). However, considering that Number 43 also brought us moments such as these, I don’t think Gerson has any right to criticize the verbal abilities of any other president.
"We must also engage, however, in the more difficult task of understanding the sources of such madness. The essence of this tragedy, it seems to me, derives from a fundamental absence of empathy on the part of the attackers: an inability to imagine, or connect with, the humanity and suffering of others. Such a failure of empathy, such numbness to the pain of a child or the desperation of a parent, is not innate; nor, history tells us, is it unique to a particular culture, religion, or ethnicity. It may find expression in a particular brand of violence, and may be channeled by particular demagogues or fanatics. Most often, though, it grows out of a climate of poverty and ignorance, helplessness and despair.
"We will have to make sure, despite our rage, that any U.S. military action takes into account the lives of innocent civilians abroad. We will have to be unwavering in opposing bigotry or discrimination directed against neighbors and friends of Middle Eastern descent. Finally, we will have to devote far more attention to the monumental task of raising the hopes and prospects of embittered children across the globe—children not just in the Middle East, but also in Africa, Asia, Latin America, Eastern Europe and within our own shores."
PORTLAND, Ore. — Among politicians in this state, Chris Dudley stands out. Especially when he is standing up.OK, Chris Dudley is tall. I get it.
In a visit to a rodeo in the coastal town of Tillamook, Dudley dwarfed a port commissioner who asked for greater investment in salmon hatcheries. At a farmers’ market in Portland’s suburbs, he towered over a state senator. In a downtown conference room with a school superintendent, he looked like the only grown-up at the kids’ table.
Like most people who run for governor, Dudley is crisscrossing his state to shake hands, kiss babies and chitchat with voters. Unlike most people, he is doing so at the height of 6 feet 11 inches, his ticket to a 16-year N.B.A. career.
“It really is a great icebreaker,” Dudley said in a recent interview. “People are very comfortable coming up to me — a lot of them feel like they know me already from my time playing.”
Also, according to this…
Chris Dudley didn't vote in six of the last thirteen elections, before he decided he wanted to be governor. He's never shown much interest in politics. He's never shown much interest in policy. But he is tall. And that counts for something.I would suggest reading all of the great post by Laurence Lewis from Daily Kos to see Dudley get utterly taken apart (cut down to size, if you will).
Chris Dudley was a pro basketball player. He wasn't very good. He had limited skills. His free throw shooting was painful to watch. He holds the NBA record for most consecutive missed free throws. But he was tall. He was very consistently tall. And that got him to the NBA. In basketball, as in politics, it's important to be tall.
And I also thought this was interesting, particularly the following…
For some quarter century, the Oregon Newspaper Publishers Association has held a debate between Oregon's gubernatorial candidates. They did again on Friday (7/16), except that it wasn't a debate because Dudley decided not to show. When you have no idea what you're talking about, it's probably best not to risk embarrassing yourself in front of people that do. On that level, Dudley may have been smart. As the Eugene Register-Guard editorialized:Not to worry, though – the Times story also tells us the following…
(Former Dem Gov. John) Kitzhaber, a veteran of two terms as governor and 14 years in the Legislature, would have an advantage in any debate format. Kitzhaber knows state government from stem to stern — he could answer a question about highways by reciting statistics on vehicle registrations and the cost of asphalt, ending with suggestions for how to set the choke on a road grader. Kitzhaber would swamp Dudley with detail, expose gaps in his knowledge and catch him in contradictions.
Dudley’s best course in a race against Kitzhaber is to steer clear of such tar pits, and instead deliver a generic message of change. That’s what Dudley has done in his first two television advertisements. They say that it’s time to “turn the page on the politics of the past” and elect “a different kind of leader, a different kind of Republican.” The ads highlight Dudley’s work for the National Basketball Association players’ union and his foundation for children with diabetes. There’s nothing about Dudley’s positions on key issues.
Dudley has already learned a lesson about how easy it is to step into a trap. As Oregon school districts prepared to cut their budgets in response to the latest state revenue shortfall, Dudley urged that they avoid cutting physical education. That’s a defensible stand, but it invites the question of what should be cut instead. There is no right answer, and Dudley left the impression that he valued P.E. above reading or math. He’s kept quiet about the details of spending cuts, in education and elsewhere, ever since.
Most people internalize as children that it is rude to point, but when a 6-11 man walks by, that bit of etiquette seems to be forgotten. On the campaign trail, onlookers tend to gawk, and many people introduce themselves by informing Dudley how tall he is.Sure – when I went to the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey circus whilst I was still a wee lad, I once pointed to the man on stilts also. But that doesn’t mean that I trusted him to approve the annual state budget passed out of a House-Senate conference committee.
Dudley does not seem to mind. “I’m a tall guy,” he said. “It’s something that happens.”
His advisers do not seem to mind, either.
“People want to shake his hand,” said Kerry Tymchuk, who was the state director for former Senator Gordon H. Smith, Republican of Oregon, and is an informal adviser to Dudley. “Some of it’s the Blazers factor, the celebrity factor, the fact he’s tall. But it’s certainly an asset when people want to meet you.”
I also noticed this little item in the Times story…
Dudley said he viewed his lack of political experience as “a real positive”; when he talks about how he would bring a fresh perspective and clean slate to the governorship, he is not so subtly painting himself in opposition to Kitzhaber.Now you just wait a gosh-darned, jump-shooting minute there!
Kitzhaber’s campaign has a different view. “Mr. Dudley is more rookie than outsider,” said Jillian E. Schoene, Kitzhaber’s spokeswoman. “We fully expect to send him back to the development league at the end of this race.”
Dudley’s advisers scoff at that. For one thing, Dudley’s attempt to parlay N.B.A. fame into a political career is not without precedent; most notably, the former Knick Bill Bradley, a member of the Basketball Hall of Fame, served three terms as a Democratic senator from New Jersey.
I realize that Times writer Thomas Kaplan’s bailiwick is sports, as they say, as opposed to politics, but allowing a comparison between Dudley to Bradley (without some kind of clarification anyway) is patently absurd.
Yes, Dudley graduated from Yale, an Ivy League school, and Bradley from Princeton (ditto), but Bradley was a Rhodes Scholar (in addition to being an integral member of a pro basketball team that won two NBA championships). Further, Bradley served two terms in the U.S. Senate before running for president (Bradley also studied at Oxford and served six months in the Air Force Reserve).
So, it looks like Chris Dudley is going to have to “cram” like never before if he hopes to pass himself off as a realistic gubernatorial alternative against a Dem who has already served in the office for which they’re both competing.
And I would say that the whole “running as a stealth candidate” gambit has come and gone, with such a move more winnable when times are good and candidates for office can get a pass from an electorate more blasé than they might be otherwise.
However, that most definitely is not the case this year.
…
Still, though, at least Dudley is tall.
Update 8/7/10: And a tax cheat too - interesting (here).
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