Wednesday, July 31, 2019

July 31

I did not watch much of last night's debate. My mind is made up (at least for the primaries) and what I did see was the predictable back and forth. Moderator questions that were slanted and candidates trying to talk over one another. You cannot have a serious discussion about public policy with 10 people on a stage being given 30 seconds each to address complicated issues like health care or gun violence. 

The one thing I did notice is that Democrats love playing by the rules. I am no fan of Bernie, but he at least called out one question as being framed as a "GOP talking point." Trump, and to a lesser extent, all Republicans in 2016, either ignored the questions asked or attacked the moderators. I don't know why Democrats do not do that. "Jake, there are 30 million people in this country without health insurance and Donald Trump is in court RIGHT NOW arguing that the ACA should be repealed, which would kick another 20 million people off their health insurance. We need to do something. We can argue over the plans, but this is consistently the biggest concern I hear on the campaign trail." 

When you start getting into the fine points - on TV - it just gets reduced to a sound bite that further distorts the argument. Pundits grade these "debates" like American Idol anyway. Ultimately, I do not know if any of this matters, but whereas I used to relish nights like last night, now, I mostly ignore them.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

July 30

Sometimes, the internet surprises you. This nice tweet from someone out in the world made yesterday a little better. Thanks @aldog87 



Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Monday, July 29, 2019

July 29

Apropos of a point I made a few days ago, I spent a good four or five hours writing a review of Howard Stern's newest book, Howard Stern Comes Again. I hate "promoting" on Twitter, but in lieu of any other avenue to do so, I tweeted links out a few times. That effort led to a whole 62 views of something that took most of an afternoon to write. It is SO disheartening to spend that amount of time writing something I think is good and have basically no one read it. 

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Sunday, July 28, 2019

Book Review - Howard Stern Comes Again

Drop Howard Stern’s name into conversation with the uninitiated and the result will invariably be the same - “Isn’t he the guy who loves (strippers/fart jokes/phony phone calls?)” Stern built a brand and a career perfecting the art of being a radio shock jock. His genius was not in monetizing male sexual fantasies about threesomes and porn stars, but blurring the lines between “reality” and reality. Stern himself was always a paradox. His on-air obsession with sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll was contrasted by a life lived in the suburbs of Long Island with his wife and three kids. He was fascinated with the celebrity lifestyle but lived a hermetic existence complete with a germ phobia. He released a movie that was as much autobiographical as a love letter to his wife only to get divorced not long after its release. A brief oat sowing year aside, Stern has been married or in a committed relationship with one of two women his entire adult life.

Well into his fourth decade of broadcasting, Howard is back with Howard Stern Comes Again, a door stop of a book whose objective is not merely to chronicle the extensive list of guests Howard has interviewed, but rather, at 550 pages, is an effort to reposition his place in the entertainment universe. Comes Again is as much about Stern’s gifts as an interviewer (an ability he believes was greatly improved through years of psychotherapy) as it is a flex on the sheer volume of his work – a demand that he be taken seriously not just as an essential figure in the history of radio, but in the history of show business, to be considered in the same breath as people like Johnny Carson and David Letterman (Howard would blanch at putting Jay Leno in that group).

And to do this, Howard has opened the archive. Madonna. Paul McCartney. Larry David. Steve Martin. Chris Rock. Steven Colbert. Jay-Z. Lady Gaga. Billy Joel. Gwyneth Paltrow. Bill Murray and yes, even Donald Trump (but more on him later). The sheer scope of Comes Again is massive, akin to a 30-CD boxed set of greatest hits and studio outtakes. The book’s ambition is so broad, A-list celebrities like Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Lawrence, and Quentin Tarantino, among MANY others, are relegated to fragmented blurbs within larger chapters about relationships, money and fame, and religion and spirituality. 

As he has gotten on in years, Howard’s show has become a safe space for performers who want to share details of their personal lives knowing that Howard will respect a line if it is drawn. To his credit, Stern acknowledges the value that concession has provided. Whereas early in his career, he squandered rare chances to interview famous people like John Kennedy, Jr., as Howard evolved as a person and a performer, he recognized that blunt force and confrontation were not the way to a guest’s heart. The evolution was such that someone like Michael J. Fox not only felt comfortable coming on the show, but was willing to make light of how Parkinson’s turned his hand into an involuntary vibrator when he masturbates. In other interviews, celebrities speak about their mental health challenges (Lena Dunham), drug use (Drew Barrymore), addiction (Slash), recovery (Marilyn Manson), relapse (Scott Weiland), and yes, even their sex lives (basically, everyone), but Howard handles these topics not as opportunities for ridicule or shaming, but as part of the human condition, the struggle all of us go through.

Stern is also a student of entertainment history. He wants to understand how artists ply their craft, so his questions probe how stand ups write their jokes, how actors pick and choose roles, and how they continued to push forward even when it looked like success would never arrive. Howard also delves into backstories with commendable research that shows he has taken the time to prepare beforehand. In doing so, he employs tactics well known to lawyers. He repeats back answers and builds on those statements to form his follow-up questions. He is attuned to small admissions and keeps digging until he gets to a bigger truth. He engages in what we like to call active listening. He is present in the conversation.

Something else that is present is the shadow of Donald Trump, whose two-decade history with the show is feathered throughout the book. On one level, this thread can be seen as a way for Howard to say: “He was who you thought he was – bombastic, self-aggrandizing, and thin-skinned – and I saw it long before anyone else” (a chapter on an abortive attempt to get Hillary Clinton to appear on the Stern Show in 2016 is a historical curiosity, an interesting “what if” Howard naturally believes would have moved the needle, but is impossible to prove). Like Trump, Stern is a master marketer, but whereas Trump leaned into braggadocio that did not hold up under scrutiny, Stern’s self-appellation as the King of All Media at least has some merit. While he will never be an EGOT winner, Stern’s media success has included books, music (soundtrack), television, and movies in addition to his reign atop broadcast and now satellite radio. It is as impressive a career as one could imagine, except that because it was built on prurience, Stern never felt like he got his due. Comes Again is his way of laying out the case for his greatness.

I also appreciated Howard’s narration, included as prologue to each of the interviews, along with a lengthy introduction; however, Howard inadvertently tagged one of my few criticisms of the book. As he describes, one of the things he did not like about terrestrial radio was the limited amount of time he had with his guests, that the radio station’s need to air commercials stunted the flow of conversation. On Sirius, Howard often goes on for an hour or more with a guest. It is hypnotic and deeply enjoyable, yet for Comes Again he takes those marathon sessions and reduces them down into the bite size form he railed against. It is almost as if he is trying to create the perfect interview – one that has the uninhibited language and content of satellite radio but the brevity of his terrestrial radio days.

In this way, the book feels both bloated and incomplete. Bloated because there is just so much content to get through. It feels like Howard is hitting you over the head, ordering you to acknowledge his manifest skill through the sheer expansiveness of his celebrity guest Rolodex. But the book also feels incomplete because within the interviews are no cues advising the reader where the conversation has been edited. Comes Again would have been better served by narrowing its interview selections but lengthening each one. Howard has often said he tries to keep things moving because he fears the audience is getting bored, but as someone who has sat in rapt attention for long periods of time, a lot of that immersive experience is lost in the book. It is the interviewing equivalent of the three-minute radio edit of Stairway to Heaven or Light My Fire.

Comes Again also feels like a valedictory. Howard’s contract with Sirius is up at the end of 2020 and while Stern has treated every approaching renewal deadline as an opportunity to muse about retirement, this time it may happen. Howard will turn 67 just after the end of his current deal and has nothing left to accomplish in the business. In an interview with Jerry Seinfeld included in the book, the two talk about going out on top, of leaving on a high note and with the audience wanting more. It was in the context of Seinfeld’s decision to turn down more than $100 million for a tenth season of his eponymous TV show, but the same could apply to Stern too. He dominated terrestrial radio, made a successful transition to satellite, has wealth, happiness, and a fan base that stretches from people collecting Social Security to teenagers who were born after 9/11. What more is there to prove?  

So, is Comes Again a testament to Howard’s evolution from the emcee of Butt Bongo Fiesta to an empathetic shoulder-to-cry-on for celebrities or a cynical ploy to renounce the behavior that made him rich and famous in favor of being portrayed as a wizened elder statesman of show business? As with everything in Howard’s world, the truth likely lies somewhere in between. The point, as it has always has been, is that people keep listening.


Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 


Saturday, July 27, 2019

July 27

I woke up this morning with no appetite and an upset stomach. So that was fun. Nothing like having to sit on the toilet at 5 a.m. to really get your day off to a GREAT start. I do not know what is wrong with me. Every few months or so, I get these really bad headaches and am dizzy for a few days, and then they go away, and I am fine. When I went through all the head tests they were inconclusive. It is too bad real life is not like TV where they figure out what is wrong with you in an hour and you go on with your life. 

On the one hand, I worry about dying alone without anyone discovering my body for days because I basically have no friends and no one would necessarily think to check on me. On the other, I realize you can have ailments that are not life-threatening but should be looked at. Instead of separating the two, I just sort of power through, figuring if the former happens, I will be dead, so who cares, and if it is the latter, I will just get better, so no big deal.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Thursday, July 25, 2019

Howard Fineman Had A Sad

I woke up this morning to the latest Twitter dust-up. Long-time journalist Howard Fineman (late of Newsweek and Huffington Post and now with MSNBC) sent out the below tweet:


Upon further investigation, I was able to track down the photo (because literally, nothing on the internet ever dies). It was a blurry picture of Speaker Pelosi and Senator Schumer arriving and being greeted by Maureen Dowd (she of the 200 plus Clinton hit pieces on the op/ed pages of the NYT). But wait, it gets better. The event was a party for the release of a book about Brett Kavanaugh's confirmation to the Supreme Court. But wait, there's more. Check out the guest list: 



Yup, a bunch of politicians (a bi-partisan affair, in fact!), reporters from august publications like The Washington Post, The New York Times, and others, along with political consultants, all had a FUN TIME celebrating the story of how an accused sexual predator ended up getting a lifetime appointment to the Supreme Court. 

The guy who literally wrote the book on the fakeness of everything in Washington - Mark Leibovich (This Town) - was there, because irony needed to die another death. Fineman's lack of awareness is galling. At a time in our country where kids are being confined in cages at the border, rarely a day goes by without a story of some form of corruption coming out of the Trump Administration, and of course, the whole The-President-Is-A-Racist thing, it's what the kids call a bad look for everyone in D.C. having a grand old time at a Georgetown cocktail party spraining their wrists giving each other reach arounds. It just goes to show that politics is all fake. It is professional wrestling. Everyone goes out in public and plays their part, but when the cameras are off, they pal around with each other while the country burns.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

July 24

I think I have vertigo. Best case scenario at least. For the past few days, I have gotten dizzy if I put my head down for more than a few seconds. This has happened before, I thought it was something more serious - possibly a precursor to a stroke, but I got all kinds of tests on my head, an MRI, a blood dye scan, and nothing. I am a private person, to have seen me at work today, or at the gym for that matter, which I'm not sure I had any business being at in the condition I was in, you would have no idea it felt like my head was about to explode. I will probably drop dead and not say anything so as not to bother anyone. It is very ~ on brand ~ for me.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Tuesday, July 23, 2019

July 23

When I first started blogging in 2011, I had some real delusions of grandeur. I had a Middle East peace proposal. I had ~ thoughts ~ about everything from Chris Hayes's original MSNBC show Up! With Chris Hayes to deconstructing the myth of Ronald Reagan. It was a heady time and I (sort of?) thought I might get discovered. That somehow, someway, someone in media would find my little corner of the internet, with its blend of culture, politics, and sports, and think, "we need this guy." 

I failed. Miserably. It was not for lack of trying and yes, a few things I have written garnered a modicum of attention. An early blog post analyzing Howard Stern's lawsuit against Sirius clocked more than 10,000 views (largely thanks to the now defunct Stern Fan Network). A commenter on one of my Mad Men recaps claimed to have shown my work to show creator Matt Weiner (who approved). I got some wonderfully supportive comments from Twitter followers when I wrote about getting my heart broken. But for the most part, over nearly 8 years and 700 posts, the number of people who read any given thing I write would not fill a college lecture hall (and in many cases, not even a classroom).

I mostly gave up on long form blogging. I write book reviews. I write a daily journal. Maybe it was the shell shock of Trump's election, but politics seemed ... pointless. Maybe I simply felt like the squeeze of spending hours on a carefully researched legal treatise on the Commerce Clause and its interplay with the Affordable Care Act was not worth the juice of 47 people bothering to read it. 

Recently, I have written a few lengthier blog posts. I can churn out 1,000 words fairly quickly. I just have to accept that I am doing it for my own enjoyment and nothing more. Maybe one day someone who matters will think my voice matters too.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Monday, July 22, 2019

It's The Morality, Stupid

The year 2000 will be remembered as one of those rare sweet spots in American history. The economy was entering its eighth year of uninterrupted growth. Unemployment hovered around 4 percent. People at all income levels were experiencing wage growth. The stock market was minting new millionaires every day. We stood as the world’s lone superpower. On September 30, 2000, the end of the federal government’s fiscal year, the Treasury recorded a budget surplus of just over $236 billion. In December, the White House estimated that all of our outstanding debt (which at that time was about $5.5 trillion) would be paid off by 2009. Hell, even Y2K had been a bust. The President’s approval rating hovered around 60 percent. Times were good. So how was it that at a time of such peace and prosperity, that an empty suit with a thin résumé but a gold-plated family name, convinced the country that change was necessary? And what can George W. Bush’s 2000 campaign tell us about 2020? 

Bush had certain built-in advantages. His last name for one. The media’s antipathy toward Al Gore (who had to bat away a pesky primary challenge from Bill Bradley) for another. The public’s reluctance to hand the Democrats a third term was also a factor. But the Bush team also recognized the power of taking an opponent’s perceived strength and turning into a liability. And the biggest liability Al Gore had in 2000 was the man he was trying to succeed. 

While the public was supportive of Bill Clinton, President, they thought much less of Bill Clinton, person. One of Bush’s catch phrases from that campaign was his promise to “restore honor and integrity” to the White House. It was a subtle, but effective way of reminding people that for all of Clinton’s accomplishments – and they were myriad – he also carried on a sleazy affair with a White House intern more than half his age, was hip deep in a sexual harassment lawsuit and was being accused of raping a woman back in the 1970s.  This was all on top of the various faux-scandals Republicans had effectively tarred the Clintons with – Whitewater, Travelgate, Vince Foster and on and on and on. 

Gore, spooked by this tactic, held his boss at an arm’s length. Clinton was largely kept on the sidelines in 2000 for fear of alienating moderate “swing” voters who were turned off by Clinton’s unseemly personal life. Of course, even with this tactic, Bush lost the popular vote. Ralph Nader, running a quixotic third-party campaign, siphoned off just enough votes (perhaps by people who assumed Gore would win and wanted to lodge a protest vote, telegraphing a similar phenomenon in 2016) in key states to hand Bush the White House (with a major assist from the Supreme Court). But that is largely beside the point. Bush’s morality play took a race that should have been a cake walk and transformed it into a contest that was close enough for a butterfly ballot design and some shady legal maneuvering to decide it.

So what does this have to do with 2020? It is simple really. Aside from his overt appeals to white voter resentment, Trump is touting the strength of the economy. At a macro level, this makes sense. By some metrics like unemployment and the stock market, the economy is doing well. This talking point has been picked up in the media even though the underlying argument is debatable. If presidential elections were simply based on “it’s the economy, stupid” than this would probably be a winning argument. But Bush 2000 inserted an important caveat, one that Democrats would be wise to follow: “it is also the morality.”

What do I mean by that? Bush negated Clinton’s strength and highlighted his glaring weakness. Trump’s behavior toward women is every bit as odious as Clinton’s (if not more) and without the other underlying economic strength of the Clinton economy (the deficit will be $1 trillion at the end of this fiscal year and we are $22 trillion (and rising!) in debt).

On top of that, Trump has lowered our standing abroad and riven us apart at home. This matters to Americans on a visceral level. We believe, wholeheartedly, in our exceptionalism. Reagan famously appropriated the idea of our nation as a shining city on a hill. We prefer to scrub away the unsavory parts of our history in favor of the belief that we stand as a beacon for the world. But Trump has smashed that idea repeatedly. He picks fights with our allies, attacks institutions like NATO, cozies up to dictators who murder their own people, and projects our strength not as a beneficent super power, but as a thuggish mobster, demanding tribute and fealty. We do not like the idea that our President is met with protests in London or that his decision making may be influenced because Saudis buy condominiums in his buildings. We certainly do not like the idea that he would welcome interference in our election by Russia if it helps him personally. This all goes to the idea that the President’s first and only interest should be in our nation, not in his own personal enrichment or gain.   

At home, stoking racial division, attacking immigrants, and showing antipathy toward women is not what we expect from our President. The chaos that surrounds Trump may have looked like a savvy political ploy when he was running, but the ocean of corruption that has defined his Administration offends our collective sense of fairness. Cabinet secretaries caught in ethical scandals, using the public fisc for personal gain, and a President shamelessly blending his personal business interests with those of the public are not right, whether or not anything illegal has happened. Put differently, there is a basic level of decency, of morality, of integrity, we expect from people whose salaries we pay and who, regardless of party, run our government. Trump has violated this idea from the day he was sworn in and the steady drip drip of scandal, of prosecution, of resignation in disgrace that has followed the people who work for him has a cumulative effect that makes our nation look like a tin pot dictatorship, not the world’s oldest democracy. That matters to people.  

I know what you are saying. He did the same thing in 2016 and still got elected. To that, I have a few points. First, I do think there is a difference between acting like a bully as a candidate and acting like a bully as our President. The former is your own personal conduct, the latter is you representing us and our nation. For all of the oxygen Trump sucks up and all the credit he gets for playing three-dimensional chess, when you look at polling, majorities disfavor what is happening on the border and what he is doing to gin up racial resentment. Regardless of your views on immigration, denying a child access to a toothbrush, who sits in his own filth, and is locked in a cage is offensive, full stop. Telling elected members of Congress to “go back to where they came from” is racist, full stop. This may find favor with Republicans, but that is it and that is not enough to be reelected. 

Second, Trump lost the popular vote. He only received 46 percent and was helped by a spike in third-party voting (Jill Stein and Gary Johnson both ran in 2012 and 2016 yet somehow tripled their vote, and their vote totals were both greater than Trump’s margin of victory in Michigan, Wisconsin, and Pennsylvania) to thread a very narrow electoral college needle. As President, Trump’s approval rating hovers in a tight range between the high 30s and low 40s. A hiccup in the economy would probably doom him regardless, but even if the economy remains relatively stable, the same honor and integrity message that worked so effectively for Bush should be even more persuasive against Trump. 

Third, media outlets hated Clinton and the myriad of outside forces (the Russians, Wikileaks, Comey, etc.) that conspired against her will not be present in 2020. While it is true that each potential Democratic nominee will have his or her record attacked and the media will make mountains out of molehills, Hillary generated a level of antipathy rarely seen in modern times. It of course did not help that 2016 was the culmination of nearly three decades of negative press coverage of her, but the media will be hard pressed to frame 2020 as a “lesser of two evils” campaign as they did last time around. 

Finally, while a no-doubt-about-it electoral route akin to Obama’s in 2008 would be preferred, at the end of the day, winning is what matters. Trump’s approval rating among Republicans is around 90 percent. If anything, he has solidified his standing within the party since his election. Yes, Democrats need to vote like their lives depend on it, but articulating a morality message to that thin slice of independents, or that thinner slice of Obama-Trump voters (or Obama-Johnson, Obama-Stein, or Romney-Johnson voters), and doing it through relentless advertising so the idea that Trump has not just sullied the office, but the nation’s reputation would matter. Less than 100,000 votes separated victory from defeat in 2016. Surely, reminding fair-minded voters of Trump’s abhorrent behavior as our nation’s chief executive would move enough people to vote him out of office. 


Ironically, the same thinking that kept Clinton on the sidelines in 2000 (fear of alienating suburban voters) should push the morality argument against Trump front and center. Democrats’ success in 2018 in suburban areas and in places that leaned Trump in 2016 should serve as further validation of the potency of this strategy. Democrats would also be well-served by learning a lesson Republicans absorbed long ago. Basic messaging works, so why not use it.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

July 22

I watched the Big Little Lies season (series?) finale last night. It ... was not good. Perhaps my impression was influenced by a splashy article that appeared a few days ago suggesting most (all?) of the second season had been re-edited after principal photography wrapped because the executive producers did not like what they saw, but it did explain the story's choppiness. The story lines felt (mostly) half-baked and hurried, some scenes inexplicably short and lacking context with the rest of the episodes and overall, a lack of narrative continuity. There was enough plot for ten episodes but it all got squeezed into seven.

The finale tied up the loose ends, but throwing out a montage and a dramatic courtroom showdown (which was ludicrous and never would have happened in real life) did not make up for the season's obvious shortcomings. To be sure, there is something to be said for the way lies erode trust and increase paranoia, how they isolate you from the people you love and draw you closer to those you conspire with, but that core and important idea felt lost among the threads that got dangled but wrapped a bit too conveniently. 

I do not know if there will be a season three and I am not sure we need one. TV, for all its attempts to mirror life, hates the one thing that animates much of our lived experience - ambiguity and uncertainty, the lack of a neat Hollywood ending. 

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy

Sunday, July 21, 2019

July 21

We are in like day four of a heat wave. Yesterday and today have been particularly oppressive - highs in the upper 90s with lots of humidity. Look, I grew up in D.C. so this kind of weather is not foreign to me, but ugh, it does sap your energy even if you stay inside most of the day (which I did yesterday and am doing today). Having lived in my house now for more than 13 years, I know it well. Usually, the HVAC can handle "normal" cold and warm weather = the house gets cooled and heated properly. But when the thermometer leans toward the "extreme" it can only do so much. The house is designed in such a way that there are spots that just do not get warm (or cool) no matter how much I run the heat or A/C. The upstairs gets stuffy because I have a floor attic that just acts like a mini blow torch, pumping warm air into the house. The main level does ok, but not great. The basement is nice and cool - 65 degrees no matter how hot it gets - but on a night like last night, the change in temperature made me feel cold even though it had been so hot. It was weird, I slept like shit (I had also napped yesterday afternoon which does not help) and then had to pee so bad when I woke up (and then had to pee again like 20 minutes later - which was also weird). Anyway, the heat wave is supposed to snap tomorrow, but I am rethinking my "retire in Arizona" plan ...

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Saturday, July 20, 2019

July 20

Twitter redesigned its interface. I do not like it. Forget "this is why we can't have nice things," I just do not understand why the company feels the need to keep tweaking itself (I know, the answer to all your questions is "money.") 

When I first joined Twitter in 2010, part of the appeal was the basic set-up. Over time, some things did improve (who among us mourns the manual RT?) but what was once a user-friendly timeline has now gone in the opposite direction. You cannot turn off your followers' retweets en masse (which makes a mess of your timeline when you follow as many people as I do). You cannot bulk delete your old tweets (Twitter's gotta mine your data, DUH!). You cannot default to seeing the newest tweets first; instead, Twitter makes you override its preference that you see tweets it thinks you would be most interested in first. On top of that, your timeline is slowly being swallowed by ads, recommendations, and "moments." 

It is not like I am going to quit the service, but why do things that will encourage people to spend less time on it?

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Thursday, July 18, 2019

July 18

The centerpiece of my week at the gym is Wednesday night. I go to a class benignly called "Work," but is in reality 50 minutes of high intensity interval training that combines aerobic, body weight, and hand weight exercises. It is intense, as I noted here

There is a woman in my class who I adjudge to be in her mid 20s. She is in phenomenal shape and we usually end up near each other (nb., I get to class before her, so nothing shady on my part). I use her as my pacer - I try my best to keep up with her, knowing she usually churns out a few more burpees and push ups and can lift more weight, but I usually do better than her on the aerobic side (particularly jumping exercises - jumping lunges, squat jumps, high knees, etc.) 

I know this probably sounds insane (and maybe a little creepy?) but I do it because I want to measure my ability against someone better than me. It keeps me motivated and engaged in my routine, it challenges me to do my best, and maybe it pushes her a little too.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

July 17

I turn on the local news while I am puttering around in the morning. I do it mostly so there is some background noise (and also for the weather report) but it always so depressing. Rapes and murders, plane crashes, whatever stupid thing someone did on social media. Why do we start our days hearing about the absolute worst in human behavior? 

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

It Has Always Been The Racism

Once upon a time, I directed my political fire at Republicans. The hypocrisy, slavish devotion to their corporate masters, and wanton disinterest in little “d” democracy (see, e.g., “Garland, Merrick”) were both manifest and abhorrent. There are days, particularly when the latest budget deficit information is released, that I pick at those scabs, but like the parable about the scorpion who stings the frog who helps it cross a river, that is who they are. We should not expect them to change.
Lately, and perhaps this is the Twitter talking, my mind has changed. Republicans, to borrow from Dennis Green, are who we thought they were, but the real failing has been by “the media” writ large (and yes, I realize this is an oversimplified term to describe an industry that encompasses a wide swath of views, but for the purposes of this essay, I am speaking primarily of large-scale television/cable news and print media). 
In 1969, a guy named Kevin Phillips published a book entitled The Emerging Republican Majority, which became short-handed, thanks to a May 1970 article about Phillips in the New York Times as Nixon’s so-called “Southern Strategy.” The idea was pretty simple – prey on the racial fears of white people, particularly in the South, but also in blue-collar pockets elsewhere, generated by the mass social upheaval of the 1960s. It was not hidden, it was not coded, it was very clearly intended to stoke white resentment. And it worked. It became one of the three legs of the stool Republicans have used ever since to run campaigns at the national level (the other two being lower taxes (Laffer Curve) and a bottomless well of money for the military). 
Reagan took Nixon’s model and perfected it. Where Nixon was gruff and conspiratorial, Reagan was “sunny” and “optimistic” except when it came to race. There, he knew that coded language and symbolism were more effective than Nixon’s bald-faced appeals. So it was no coincidence that Reagan’s first speech after he became the Republican nominee for President in 1980 was in Philadelphia, Mississippi, the place where three civil rights workers were murdered by racists during the Freedom Summer of 1964. But Reagan did not visit Philadelphia to call for racial harmony, he went there to support “states’ rights,” a term understood by Southerners as a hall pass for undermining the progress made by the Voting Rights Act of 1965 and the dismantling of Jim Crow by the Supreme Court.  
Reagan went on to win in 1980, but his victory was actually a lagging indicator for where the country was moving. Just thirteen years after the passage of the Voting Rights Act, the Supreme Court was already trimming its sails. In 1978, a thin majority upheld the use of race as a factor in college admissions (Bakke) and the Boston school system had nearly collapsed in the mid-1970s in the face of federally-mandated school busing. Reagan’s nurturing of racial grievance was spun by the media in a positive way – these were “Reagan Democrats” who had abandoned their party because it had become too liberal, not that Republicans had become too racist. 
By 1988, after eight years of harping on “welfare queens” and “strapping young bucks” gaming the welfare system and a war on crack cocaine infiltrating black neighborhoods, this “othering” of African-Americans was so pervasive it was like the atmosphere – you did not even notice it. So when George H.W. Bush ran that infamous Willie Horton ad, you know the one featuring a grainy black and white mug shot of a black man who skipped out on a parole furlough and raped and murdered a white woman, it did not boomerang against Bush, but his Democratic opponent, Mike Dukakis, a dreaded “card-carrying” member of the ACLU who refused to say that someone who raped his wife should be given the death penalty.
By 2000, a conveniently timed purge of tens of thousands of voters by Jeb Bush helped his brother “win” that state by less than 600 votes. The same Supreme Court that had used the equal protection clause to guarantee the franchise now used it as a justification to stop a recount that might have handed Al Gore the presidency. Under W, the racial animus was still against people with dark skin, but instead of African-Americans, it was now Muslims and anyone with a funny name or a weird head garment.
Obama’s election unleashed a torrent of blatant racism, from Obama-as-a-bone-in-the-nose African witch doctor to birtherism, comparisons of Michelle Obama to an ape to images of the President with a noose around his neck, this was as subtle as a sledgehammer. After Obama was re-elected, Republicans feigned at soul searching. A so-called “autopsy” report stated the obvious – the Republican Party was radioactive among non-white Americans, whose demographic diversity and strength would only grow stronger in the future. Republicans, this report argued, needed to be more inclusive, to, essentially, jettison the strategy Nixon had employed all the way back in 1968. 
So what happened? Trump did something counter-intuitive. While it was true that non-whites would continue making up more of the electorate, instead of appealing to them, Trump goosed white supporters with his anti-immigrant rhetoric. He “found” low turnout white voters in rural parts of the country and increased his share of the slowly dwindling white vote. Put differently, instead of adopting the inclusive post-2012 message, he doubled down on a version of the southern strategy.
In some ways, this was the perfect storm. Trump was aided by a 2013 Supreme Court decision (Shelby County) that did away with pre-clearance requirements when states wanted to change their voting laws, opening the floodgates for a variety of laws, from voter ID to restrictions on early voting, that were engineered to tamp down the Democratic vote. Trump was also aided by a variety of other factors (the Comey Letter, Russian interference, media antipathy toward Hillary, etc.) but the bald-faced appeals to race – Trump, after all, embraced birtherism at its height in 2010 and 2011 – was often ignored or minimized. These white voters, media members argued, were simply economically anxious, not racist. 
Of course, things have only gotten worse. From Trump’s embrace of “very fine people” in Charlottesville to his “go back to your country” tweets, he is not saying the quiet racist thing out loud, he has a bullhorn and screaming it.
So why did I just spend 1,000 words telling you all this? It is not to criticize Republicans – again, they are who we thought they were – instead, it is to point out that this history has been readily apparent for decades. It was never hidden. It was sometimes wrapped in coded language, but often was done in bold-face type. Books were written about it (Thomas Frank’s 2004 book What’s The Matter With Kansas may be the most prescient) and political strategy memos discussed it (a recently-unearthed document from a guy who helped guide DOJ arguments for a citizenship question on the 2020 census openly talked about how it would hurt Democrats and benefit Republicans). 
What has allowed all of this to happen is largely a media failure. Republicans have so thoroughly worked the refs that most reporters – even in 2019 – refuse to call out racism even when it is right in front of them. And those that do mysteriously omit Republican politicians from their critique, as if this is something unique to Trump and not a defining feature of the party for the past half century. This is a problem for a few reasons. First, it excuses, oh, to take one example, a guy like Steve Scalise, who has spoken in front of white supremacist groups, from this narrative. Second, it ignores the fact that the Republican party is overwhelmingly white, has almost no minority representation in Congress (its dearth of women is a whole other story), and continues to stoke racial, ethnic, and religious resentment as part of its electoral strategy. Third, it presumes that once Trump is gone, all of this vile language and conduct will magically go with him. It won’t. It was there the whole time, he simply exploited it. Finally, it minimizes the overt efforts to subvert democracy. Framing stories about voter ID laws or census counts in the binary “winners and losers” narrative that the media employs results in the belief that these are just political battles between the parties and not attempts by one party to undermine the core tenets of constitutional form of government. 

The media has sacrificed its obligation to report the news objectively at the altar of the “one side says this, the other side says that” form of journalism. Republicans have been the party of overt (and covert) racists for the past 50 years. Burying your collective heads in the sand so you do not offend someone at a Georgetown cocktail party or hoping this all blows over once Trump leaves does not change this fact or the media’s collective failure to report this fact accurately.

Monday, July 15, 2019

July 15

I watched an HBO documentary this weekend called I Love You, Now Die. The documentary told the story of an 18-year-old boy who committed suicide and whose girlfriend, via text messages, appeared to encourage him to do it. The legal questions were murky - the girl was charged with involuntary manslaughter but her defense was that her conduct did not result in his death - and the judge ultimately split the difference. He decided that her actions up until the night of his suicide were "reckless and wanton" (one of the elements for the crime) but that her actions did not cause his death. However, he also decided that during the act - he inhaled carbon monoxide in his truck - the boy left his car and the girl talked him into getting back inside, which he did, ultimately succumbing to the fumes. 

It was almost like a tort concept of death - but for her actions he would not have died - but the legalese was less interesting to me than the broader themes involved. These were two young people struggling with significant mental health problems - he had been suicidal for some time, had attempted it a couple of times, and was caught in the middle of his parents' messy divorce; she had an eating disorder, was on anti-depressants, and felt deeply alienated without any close friends. They were sharing intimacy via text message but only met a couple of times even though they did not live that far away from each other. Sifting through her actions before his death and after is a jumble, with enough evidence to prove the point you want to make - manipulative, isolated, supportive, victim, victimizer. As her attorney pointed out, the basis of the judge's decision was based heavily on an admission she made after the fact to one of her friends that she told the boy to get back in his truck, but she was also proven to be a liar, over and over again. The key evidence, two 40 minute calls they had the night of his death were a black box because she did not testify. We never learn what they talked about. What can you believe and what was fiction?

The judge found her guilty and handed her a a roughly five-year sentence, but suspended most of it. Ultimately, she was to spend 15 months in jail. She appealed (and lost) and is now locked up. Of course, had she just accepted the verdict, she would have done her time and then been released in the time it took for her appeal to be considered and rejected, but I suppose that is a bit of after-the-fact lawyering.

Net/net, it was a tricky case because the issues were so novel, almost like a law school exam. The lines were blurry and there were no easy answers. Imagine if your entire text message history or everything you ever searched for on Google was made public. How would other people - people who purported to know you and complete strangers alike - make sense of the often contradictory emotions and thoughts we all feel? I think a lot about that. So much of my life is not just private, but secret - an entire online construct divorced entirely from my in real life persona - and few know both. Those that do, do because I want them to, because I let them, because I trust them enough to keep that secret, but what would happen if it all blew up? If nothing else, Love affirmed something I have long believed - that in a world where we are more connected than ever before in human history, there has never been a time when so many people simultaneously felt so alone.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Sunday, July 14, 2019

Book Review - I Like To Watch

Criticism, the art of having something to say about something trying to say something, is hard. Few can do it well (and trust me, I try all the time and usually fail). Among that small group is the New Yorker’s Emily Nussbaum, whose recently published book I Like to Watch, is a mostly enjoyable, if a bit uneven collection of her essays about television. 

Watch readers will be dazzled (and dizzied) by the sheer volume of television Nussbaum consumes and her uncanny ability to divine greater meaning from these programs. There is a strong thread connecting programs like black-ish, Orange is the New Black, and even warhorses like Sex and the City with the broader societal and cultural trends Nussbaum wants to explore. Feminism, race, Trump, and the #MeToo movement are never far from Nussbaum’s gaze and understandably so. Television is often the mirror reflecting where we are in a cultural moment. The book spends a lot of time considering the role of women in the industry, be it as show runners (a lengthy profile of Orange creator Jenji Kohan is tangy with her idiosyncrasies), comic leads (Nussbaum’s discussion of Inside Amy Schumer may be the book’s strongest chapter, her largely sympathetic review of Girls circa Season Two did not hold up as well), or in relation to their struggle to succeed (a remembrance of Joan Rivers is bittersweet - the late comic was both an unquestioned trailblazer and an unabashed critic of how women looked). 

To be sure, a collection of backward-looking essays also serves as a reminder that popular culture is often fleeting. True Detective burst like a supernova, sprouting a thousand thought pieces, but the effect was short-lived. Nussbaum includes a piece she wrote six episodes into that first season bemoaning the paint-by-numbers female characters and dissing its two-in-the-morning dorm room philosophical meditations - both of which were entirely justified at the time, but I had to dig through Wikipedia to refresh my memory of the show to even connect what I was reading with what I saw several years ago (do not even get me started on her late-in-the-book rehash of the Lost series finale). 

It is left to the long gaze of history to sift the wheat from the chaff. Nussbaum’s essay on All in the Family highlights the relevance of this now nearly fifty-year-old story of a bigoted middle-aged white man from Queens because the current occupant of the White House shares that cultural DNA, albeit in a slicker artifice. The jury is still out on modern programming. Jessica Jones or Jane the Virgin may be considered minor masterpieces twenty years from now or simply lost to history. More broadly, the lines separating “television” from “movies” are increasingly blurred. The uneven final season of Game of Thrones could be viewed less like six stand alone episodes than one nearly seven hour movie. By the same token, the four Avengers movies could have easily been diced into thirteen episode binge-worthy Netflix seasons. Do the designations even matter anymore? Nussbaum does not say because little of what is collected in Watch was written within the past year. 

There are some curious omissions from Watch as well. For a book that clocks in at nearly 350 pages, Nussbaum has a tendency to nibble around the edges. In a media landscape so vast, that is understandable. Your tastes are not my tastes are not a critic’s tastes, and when “television” now includes everything from shows that start online and cross-over to pay cable (High Maintenance) to traditional network procedurals (The Good Wife), it is not surprising that these shows and others included in Watch are a bit obscure (I’m looking at you Hannibal, Enlightened, and The Middle). 

Instead, I would have liked more focus on shows whose influence is manifest, but the most we get on Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Veep, and yes, Thrones, are passing references in discussions of other programs not worthy of these Mount Rushmore of Modern Television inductees. By the same token, aside from a few pages on The Vanderpump Rules, Watch has nothing to offer about reality television. Now I understand reality shows are mostly empty fluff, but their invasion of the cultural landscape cannot be ignored. For a book marketed as “arguing my way through the TV revolution,” failing to discuss a Survivor or The Real World is like ignoring Lexington and Concord from a discussion of our actual revolution. 

My other critique is one I lob often - the need for better editorial decisions. Nussbaum’s TV columns are like intellectual potato chips, addictive little nuggets of writing that leave you wanting more, but the flow of the book forces readers to toggle between these bite-size gems and longer form essays that screw up the book’s pacing. Nussbaum’s tent pole chapter Confessions of the Human Shield is a brilliant, totally absorbing, but nearly fifty-page discussion of #MeToo, her conflicted views on Woody Allen, and a broader meditation on the decades-long pass “men behaving badly” received in show business. The quality of the chapter is such I wanted it to be its own standalone work, but having cruised through the first 100 pages in seven-to-ten page chunks, the tonal shift was jarring. The effect repeated to a lesser degree at other points, where a lengthy profile slowed the book’s momentum (the final chapter, a solid thirty-five pages on Ryan Murphy, was interesting, but felt like a tag on to meet a page quota). 

But who am I to complain? The quality of Nussbaum’s writing is apparent throughout, her insights are many, and the value of this book, obvious. 


Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 


Saturday, July 13, 2019

July 13

God does have a sense of humor. Want proof? Somehow, the following body was created - it stands an average 5 feet 9 inches. It is hairless on top, but otherwise covered in fur. The body's arms are lanky and thin, the wrists can be circled with a thumb and middle finger. The nose is oversized, the lips are full, the ears, like small satellites. At the base are flat, wide, size 11 feet, giving the body a clownish effect when shoes are placed on it. It is as if a bunch of misplaced pieces on a Mr. Potato Head were haphazardly used to put this one together.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Friday, July 12, 2019

July 12

If I had the power to relive any day of my life, July 12, 1990 would be high on the list. It was a typical "triple H" day in our nation's capital - hazy, hot, and humid - and there was a dry spell to boot. For reasons unbeknownst to 19-year-old me, there was not a stem or seed to be smoked. The Grateful Dead were in town and when I think back to that night, I always mutter a line from The Warriors - "magic, whole lotta magic." 

I am not sure it was the best show I ever saw, but it was certainly the most memorable. The heavens opening up just as Edie Brickell left the stage, her "have a nice trip" comment as she exited a foreshadowing of the shenanigans to come. The first set, played in a soupy mess, the second, with things dried out and mellow, the trippy graphics during Victim, the epic Dark Star, Brent's authoritative Mr. Fantasy and The Weight encore. Just exactly perfect and stone cold sober for the entire production. I remember not getting home until well past 2 A.M. having carpooled down with my friends, and just feeling completely exhausted and also completely satisfied in a way that you can only experience when you are still young.

It was a probably the last consistently happy time in my life. Before life dealt its blows, before the crushing responsibilities of adulthood crashed down, before bad decisions were made. I did not appreciate it nearly enough in the moment, but I sure do now.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Thursday, July 11, 2019

July 11

There is nothing reporters like more than counting a Democrat's money. Joe Biden spent his entire adult life in public service. As he was preparing to leave office, he had a widowed daughter-in-law to take care of, and, as a man in his mid-70s, lacked the nest egg you might otherwise expect from someone who, like Mitch McConnell, somehow figured out how to become a multi-millionaire **while in office**. 

Biden was in such a tight spot that President Obama offered to lend him money to help his family. So what does Biden do? Nothing unusual for a former politician. He gave some paid speeches. He wrote a book. He quickly amassed a small a fortune, which he was entitled to do, and for that, he got a day's worth of shitty coverage from the media. Of course, while reporters were clutching their pearls, they neglected to discuss the backstory or the fact that Biden gave a lot of his money to charity as well. Anything to stir the shit.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Tuesday, July 9, 2019

July 9

I am very organized. I lay out my suits the night before work. I pack my lunch every day. I make my bed when I wake up in the morning. In a world where people are either early or late, I am early. I make lists. I overpay my credit card (yes, I only have one) before I buy things. And on and on. It can be exhausting, perhaps a nascent sign of OCD, but it works for me. It provides some order in a world that can otherwise feel chaotic. I know, you are shocked I am single.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Sunday, July 7, 2019

July 7

There is an old saying attributed to Ernest Hemingway. He was asked, "How did you go bankrupt?" To which the old man is reported to have said, "Two ways. Gradually, then suddenly." I feel like the same is true of my fitness level as I approach 50. Even into my early 40s, I was still killing it at the gym. In fact, I think the best shape I was even in was around 2012, when my body fat was under 10 percent and I weighed a touch under 140 pounds. Well into my 40s I was a five-day-a-week gym goer, routinely clocking 240-250 days a year in the gym. To be sure, I noticed small little instances when I could not push quite as hard, but my level remained pretty good. 

It was just in the last six months to a year where all of a sudden, I am down to four days a week, and sometimes three. Whereas I would once do an hour of cardio and an hour of weight training, now it is half the cardio. There are nights I blow off because I am tired or it is raining (or threatening to rain). I have constant aches, some nagging, some more serious, it feels like it is falling apart at one time. 

I spend A LOT of time thinking about aging. Just this morning there was a guy in my boxing class who looked to be seven or eight years older than me who was just sucking wind the whole time. He was really out of shape, sweating profusely, and just had no coordination or pop in his punches. Guys like that motivate me to keep pushing, but it is like there is something in my head fighting against me. The cruel joke is that just to maintain your fitness as you get older you have to push harder even as it is harder to do what you need to do to stay that way. Every food sin you commit is harder to recover from and if you do not do anything about it, the weight just adds up. It is SO fucking frustrating.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Saturday, July 6, 2019

July 6

I did some (modest) retail therapy last night. I do not shop a lot for myself, but hey, buying a new car (itself an exaggerated form of retail therapy) requires properly branded key chains, am I right? I picked up yet another alumni t-shirt and a few other tchotchkes. Chances are, by the time the delivery arrives, the novelty will have long worn off.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Friday, July 5, 2019

July 5

Thanksgiving in July continues as I roll my eyes at the fact I have to go to work today. It did not seem like a big deal on Wednesday afternoon when we were allowed to leave early, but staring at the clock and realizing I have to put my uniform on (suit and tie) on a random Friday when the temperature will hit 90 degrees and the office will be half-empty seems ... dumb.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Thursday, July 4, 2019

July 4

I grew up in Washington, D.C., so the Fourth of July was always a little extra as they say. I spent many Fourths on the Mall, before they cracked down on alcohol consumption and it was the closest thing you got to Mardi Gras. One year, I saw Paul McCartney perform at RFK Stadium. Another year, I got to spend it on the lawn of the White House watching the fireworks explode from what felt like right on top of where I was sitting. 

It is part of the reason I find what Trump is doing today so gross. He is tainting what should be an agnostic, communal celebration of our country with a cult of personality event. The sight of heavy military equipment and flag officers standing next to him gives it that dictatorial sheen and that he is using the Lincoln Memorial as a backdrop is also offensive. 

I am not sure why people are not marching in the streets. Maybe it is because we have become numbed to all of it. Maybe we just like complaining about things on social media because we do not think anything can change. In the 1960s, hundreds of thousands marched on D.C. time and again to protest inequality, injustice, and the Vietnam War. Maybe it was because the stakes were more tangible - literally, life and death. Now, the idea of a constitutional crisis is esoteric, it is difficult to explain why it is a bad thing for our nation when a President ignores an opinion of the Supreme Court. And maybe because people are not marching in the street over that fact, or the conditions migrants are being kept in at the border, or the lengthy documentation of Trump's criminality, from obstructing an investigation to concealing hush money payments, that makes it all seem ... normal. Just run-of-the-mill political sniping between the parties, not the erosion of the rule of law. 

Anyway, I am much older now and there will be no revelry. Chances are, I will be asleep before the local fireworks display launches at around 9:30 (I will probably be annoyed if it keeps me up). I am otherwise trying to follow my own advice that if you ignore Trump, eventually, he will go away.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Wednesday, July 3, 2019

July 3

There is a fluff piece about A-Rod in the current issue of Sports Illustrated (yes, I still receive magazines at my home - I am an old). Anyway, the reporter got a quote from Warren Buffett (he and A-Rod are buddies), who noted that one of his beliefs is that a person should behave better in the second half of his life than the first. The idea being that A-Rod screwed up a lot when he was younger but got his shit together. 

I think a lot about this idea - it was neatly expressed in The Good Place as "moral dessert." The idea people hold that there should be some reward for acting morally or "good." I have definitely behaved far better as I have aged than I did when I was younger with no tangible effect on my own happiness, success, or ability to find love. YMMV, as they say.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Monday, July 1, 2019

July 1

My parents got divorced when my mother was 47. To my knowledge, she never went on a date after it happened. It seemed very sad to me that she lived the last 30 or so years of her life alone. I have been divorced for almost 9 years and of those, I have "dated" for about 6 months, the rest of the time, all alone. It is a long time to be alone and it wears on me. With each passing day the idea that I might find someone seems more and more remote. I think a lot about growing old alone, it is really depressing.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy