RESOLVED TO SELF EVIDENT TRUTHS

What's that saying about opinions and how everyone has one? Well, I think New Year's resolutions are like that too- we all have at least one. Most of us have many, and a lot of them are perennial favorites. I will lose weight. I will contact all those friends who have been lost to time and tide. I will blog more often. Yes, I will blog more often. Every damned day. Maybe twice daily. I will get that raise. I will speak from my heart. I will solve all my problems. I will solve all the world's problems. I will finish watching all the movies and series on my Netflix list. Same for Hulu and Amazon. I will, I will, I will.

And why not? We must have ambitions, dreams, goals. Right?

Well, this year, I felt the need for better resolutions. This was a direct result of the improbable, illogical, and insane election of the Great Orange Monkeyman from Queens as our President. First off, he lost the popular vote by almost three million. Second, he publicly made fun of a man with handicaps- which is what I believe is called a "dick move". Third, this bully either doesn't believe in global warming, which makes him a moron, or doesn't give a shit about it, which makes him an asshole.

Fourth- he objectifies women, treats them with contempt and what seems like anger. Like toys who he can "grab by the pussy". Again, dick move.

What is his problem? My mother was a woman. My wife is a woman. Over half the world population is made of women. And he treats them like shit. He really does.

So I resolved to be more actively involved in what is happening in my community, my country, and my world.

First big step- I went to the Women's March in D.C. with my wife Lisa this past week end.

And it was beautiful, inspiring, magic, crazy- the list of adjectives needed to described this monumental event is far too long to put on this page. I have been to a lot of pretty big events in my life. I was in Santa Barbara during the Rodney King riots. I lived in NYC during 9/11, the black out of 2002, and  the RNC of 2004. I saw Obama speak in Denver in a crowd whose estimated size was over a million. And Saturday, I took part in the largest demonstration in the history of our nation.

We met so many kind, funny, concerned citizens from all over the country. A woman from Florida, a pair of ladies from Boston. A punk rock violinist from Minneapolis. Everywhere we have been, from Friday to today, the atmosphere has been both electrified but kind- like that perfect party where everyone is having a great time, nobody wants to leave, and all the music they play makes you want to dance.

And the Pussy Hats. All over the place. Pink, Purple, Orange. Fuzzy and freaky, some with whiskers, some with ears. All of them made by hand. Lisa made three: one for her son Ryan, one for me, and one for herself. They are the three coolest hats ever made. I wore mine with pride, and plan to continue to wear it for at least the next four years.

We stayed at an Air B&B near 14th Street and S street. On the day of the march, we decided to walk, as the Metro was full to bursting. Walking was a great choice. As we made our way towards the Mall, more and more people filled the streets- a sea of women, many in pussy hats, leading us forward. The walk took over half an hour, and by the time we got to the Mall, it was a full on crowd- although the word "crowd" does not suffice. It felt like when you were in high school and went to one of those super concerts where five bands played. Everyone excited, distant roars of the already gigantic event echoing through the streets. Everywhere you look, people who are smiling- at each other and at you. So much love and hope and determination.

When we got to the mall, I ran into this woman. She was 94, and had a sign on her shirt proclaiming her age, and her religion, which was Quaker. I told her my mother was a Quaker too, and she looked me right in the eye, and asked me if my mother raised me well. Something about that hit me right in the gut. I don't know why, but it made me have to try very hard not to cry.

We moved on. We raised our voices in joy, and also in anger. We flipped the bird at the new hotel owned by the Orange Monkeyman when we marched past it later in the day. We took part in something greater than ourselves.

And this is just the beginning. There will be more marches. More protest. More change. People are fired up, ready to go.

More to come. I am resolved.

Surf's Up

Okay- I think that I, along with many others, have sort of drifted along through this summer of our discontent; of bizarre town hall meetings packed with loud, rude whacko's getting all riled up about socialism and healthcare; of all sorts of things that fill the web pages and tv sets and then float off into the ether. I've been kind of drifting since the election, as far as politics go. I think we all- or a vast majority of us- just thought "well, we elected the good guys, now we can get on with our lives and all shall be well". It's like we all turned into Uatu, the Watcher. Uatu was this bald dude who lived on the Moon and watched the world spin along and do it's thing- but never got involved. He also would narrate the "What If?" comic book- with storylines like "What If Spiderman joined the Fantastic Four?", or "What if Captain America was the President of the United States"- kind of cool conjecture on reality and the butterfly effect and all that.
And that's me of late- a couch potato on the moon watching the world spin, speculating on questions like, "What if we had universal health care? What if I was a commie and didn't know it? What if all those phoney looking angry folks at the town hall meetings really were bunch of fakes, like those dudes in Florida who stormed the recount when Bush stole the election?"

Well, the time has come to shake off that alter-ego, and get busy.

I don't know why, exactly, but of late I am filled with this need to do something more than just sit on my ass. Maybe it's because I watched Obama's speech to school children yesterday- maybe it's a reaction to the insanity of all those on the right who scream so loudly about the End of Days coming in the form of socialized medicine- I don't know. All I know is that break time is over, and it's time for all of us to do more than just watch. It's time for us to re-engage on the level we did during the election- or even more. Time for us to call our senators and representatives and governors and friends and strangers- to stand up and be counted.

To become Norrin Radd, The Silver Surfer.

That's right. I said it. Time for us to wield the power cosmic and go up against impossibly huge foes like Galactus, devourer of worlds, Satan (i.e. the G.O.P.), and the Insurance Industry.

The Silver Surfer sacrificed everything he had to save his world- he gave up his home, his family, the love of his life-he even gave up his hair- all of it, and this was before it became cool for dudes to shave their heads.

Yes, at times it might be lonely, gliding through the galaxy on our cosmic surfboard- but it's the right thing to do.

I called both my senators the other day, and when I did, I felt the power cosmic coursing through my body. It was excellent- and so freakin' easy. I mean, what excuse do any of us have for not contacting our elected officials in this age of the internets?

So come on, my fellow heroes- time to gear up and kick some ass.

I challenge you all to watch the President's speech tonight, and then talk to at least five people about it afterwards- five people whom you haven't spoken to in at least one month.

Surf's up.

GOP should take a vow of poverty

Guess what? Hoovervilles are back! Thanks, Republicans!

Okay, I think it's pretty clear to most people that I think the GOP is a party full of assholes.

How could I not? Or to put it another way, why should I feel any different? What have they done for me, ever? And before anyone can say "What about Reagan?" let me say this: Old Ronnie sucked.

He came off as kind of a nice old fart, but really, his policies stank: he lied about Iran-Contra (you remember that, when we dealt with a terrorist nation and even sold them arms, all so that we could turn around and illicitly support a bunch of killers in Central America), he drove up the national debt in numbers that were until that time unthinkable; he invaded Grenada; in short, he was a dick. There, I said it.

But I digress. The question now is, how can the party of Drinky McDumbAss (also known as George Bush) make me like them?

Simple: take a vow of poverty.

Seriously, if Boner and all his pals in congress took a vow of poverty to show America how to cut spending in a meaningful way, I'd sit up and take notice. If they then cut all their staffs in half, took public transportation, and gave all their worldly goods to charity in this time of need, I'd think that maybe they weren't all bad. Most of the Republicans seem to court the vote of the religious right- which is to say Christian fundamentalists- and I am fairly certain Jesus would totally approve of this.

Now, I realize there could be some problems. If, for instance, Rush Limbaugh got in on this and decided to try and emulate St. Francis (who was pretty cool) by walking around naked, that would be a bad thing. (I do think that fat bastard should sell his gold microphone and give the proceeds to charity. Yes, he's entitled to it- but there's something sort of Marie Antoinette in it's lavishness that doesn't sit well in these times of need)

Just think of all the money the government would save. It could be millions. Hell, if they only took a cut in pay and benefits equal to what they think the auto union workers should take, that would go a long way in cutting the deficit. It could certainly help keep some of the 8,800 teachers from being fired in LA. Or maybe the saved money could go towards helping New Orleans get back on it's feet.

So how about it, party of old white dudes, with a few women and people of color? Why not have every local, state, and federal Repub. in office refuse to be paid, and have the money go back into the budgets from whence they came?

Stop following Anus, God of Speaking out of both sides of your Ass, and start following the example set by that carpenter dude.

Lead by example.

ENIK'S CIRCLE

So Sunday, like a lot of people, I watched the Super Bowl and all of it's bonus features- the pre-show, the post-show, Bruce Springsteen- and the commercials. All of it was pretty cool- and I especially like seeing Obama having the guts to actually say he was for Pittsburgh- as opposed to some equivocating "may the best team win" baloney that you would expect from a politician- but what got me the most excited was the trailer for the new movie version of The Land of the Lost starring Will Ferrell. I used to watch that show when it first came out, and I really loved it.
And I have this weird memory of a certain episode that I wasn't sure I had really seen, or only imagined or dreamt I had seen- the storyline seems so strange, so over the top for Saturday morning early 1970's fare. As the years have passed, I've become less and less sure as to whether I ever really saw the episode in question or had made it up due to an overactive imagination coupled with a fascination and fear of death.

Here's what I remember from Land of the Lost in general, and of that existential episode in particular. Marshall, Will, and Holly, on a routine expedition, met the greatest earthquake ever known- and were sucked down this giant toilet bowl in granite of some sort to this place with several moons, lots of odd flora and fauna, and dinosaurs- not to mention monkey people and the dreaded Sleestack- or maybe it's Sleezstack- these bug-like lizard people who hiss a lot and don't take kindly to the Marshall clan. How the Marshall's survive in this strange world is basically the show. But that was just the beginning. Soon after their arrival, they meet Enik (whose name just happens to be the Greek word for cinema spelled backwards)- a tan looking sleeztack who can talk and is groovy and not quite so mean as his cousins- who turn out to be his descendants, as he comes from a distant past, and for some reason (like voting Republican too often) his people have become a bunch of cranky assholes. Among the cool things Enik can do is move these power crystals around in these funky little pyramids called Pylons that are all over the place. Ok- Marshalls, dinosaurs, multiple moons, monkey people, sleeztacks, and funky ass Enik. That's the general stuff about Land O' Lost.

Now the weird episode. Somehow, the Marshalls and Enik end up in this particularly powerful Pylon, and Enik is like "Hey, I have some serious shit to tell you about", and Mr. Marshall says "Oh?" and Enik is like "Yeah. It's pretty heavy. You better sit down." Picking up on the heaviness, Mr. Marshall tells Enik to give it to him straight, so Enik tells him "you don't belong here, amigo- something is all wrong with you being here". At this point, Marshall is getting pretty pissed off, and Enik can tell, so he shows him some stuff- telling him "this is not going to be so nice, but you asked for it, so here goes". Then Enik moves some crystals around, and on the screen in the Pylon they see the accident that brought them to the Land of the Lost in the first place- and Marshall gets all serious and says "there's no way we could have lived through that", and Enik goes "You didn't". Then they see the three dead Marshalls, and talk about some variation on Nietzsche and his theory of eternal recurrence. End of show.
Now that is a weird thing to have on a kiddie show- and you can see why I thought maybe I had dreamt it up.

But after seeing the trailer during the Super Bowl, I was reminded yet again of that strange episode- of how it dawned on me that the Land of the Lost was really the Land of the Dead- and I turned to Google.

Turns out it really was an episode, called Circle, written by Larry Niven and David Gerrold. It was the final episode of the first season, when they thought there wasn't going to be a season two. Oddly, the show got picked up and the whole they're all dead thing went away- but I never forgot that. I was eight when I saw Circle. Weird.

So what has that to do with things today?

Not much- except for this- I think we are kind of in a Land of the Lost right now, a crazy place where the past, the present, and the future are all happening at the same time- there are deadly dinosaurs running around in the form of greedy CEOs and senators against stimulating the economy, preserving the environment, letting gay people marry, etc.- there are Sleaze Stacks like Madoff and Cheney and Bush- who are like devolved, smelly versions of human beings-
and if we don't stop all the madness that has reigned over us for the past eight years, we'll be looking at ourselves sprawled on the side of a riverbank, realizing that we're the walking dead.

Oogie Boogie Man

We're watching the mini-series version of Stephen King's The Stand right now- the one from the early nineties, which seems like it wasn't that long ago but somehow is. How did that happen? i really don't get this whole concept of time and movement and life and death. i know that everything in the past, from the beginning of the scene i'm watching right now (Rob Lowe as Nick Andros just left the jail in Arkansas) to a million years ago are all the same distance from me- what is it that Tom says at the end of The Glass Menagerie? There is no greater distance between two places than time, or something like that. i know that to be true. However, there are these time worm-holes, powered by memory, that span that vast distance of experience in the blink of the eye. i think that as we go along in this world, we all become time travelers- occasionally popping through these portals and finding ourselves in a room that hasn't existed for fifteen years or more, talking with some people who no longer walk the same roads we who call ourselves alive do. And as we move along the highway, it happens more and more often- i'll be sitting at a wedding reception, and in the time it takes to pour some cream in my coffee, i'll go to several other wedding receptions from days that somehow have gone by, never to be seen again by waking eyes.

i just think that's weird.

i wonder what if John McCain ever time travels- if he's ever shot back to some other event in his life. i bet he does. i was watching some footage a little over a week ago- which might as well be a million years ago- and McCain was giving a speech, and some nut job in the audience yelled out "terrorist!", and McCain got this look on his face or regret, of sorrow, of "oh boy, i really did sell my soul, didn't i?"- and i think maybe he went on a little journey right then, to some other time- maybe to some moment where he learned about dignity and having a soul- like i said, it's pure conjecture. But i think it happened.

What is happening to us, as a nation? We're so full of anger and fear and sorrow, we don't know what to do. It's like the past eight years have been a variation on Captain Tripps, the man-made plague let loose on the world in The Stand, only instead of killing our bodies, this version has killed ninety-nine percent of our soul. And now, as we wander the wastelands, we have to decide whom to stand with- the Walking Dude, who caters to our more selfish, fearful half, or with Mother Abigail, who appeals to our better angels.

i have hope we will go with Mother Abigail, but it's going to require sacrifice.

Public Enemies

About a month ago, my wife Lisa and I drove out to Wisconsin to visit family in the North Woods, which is what they call the northern section of the Badger State, an area full of lakes and trees and hundreds of charming little towns. Manitowish Waters is one such place, and we were told that a movie had just been shot up there starring Johnny Depp. The movie is called Public Enemies, and follows the exploits of several bank robbers from the early 1930's- you know, the Great Depression. Now not all of the movie was filmed up there, but one section, which revolved around a famous gunfight at the lodge Little Bohemia, does. The lodge is still there today, and the food is great. If you're ever anywhere near the area, go. But I'm not writing today on behalf of the Wisconsin Board of Tourism. No, I'm writing today because after we went up to Little Bohemia and heard all about the gangsters who hid out up north, my mother-in-law Red Miller gave me a copy of the book Public Enemies- which I am fairly certain is the main source for the movie. It's a great read, and follows the exploits of Dillinger, Pretty Boy Floyd, the Barker Gang, Machine Gun Kelly, and Bonnie and Clyde. (on a tangent, click here for a very funny short music video about B and C that features Bridgette Bardot) As I read of these famous outlaws, whom have all been lionised to one degree or other by our collective pop culture, I began to think about what it was that made them popular with so many people. Never before, for me at any rate, has the answer been so clear, and so resonant. In general, American banks and the folks who run Wall Street are perceived as institutions that screw the American people over and over, all in the name of greed- and when someone comes along and takes money away from those avaricious bastards, it feels good.
I wonder what would happen if someone starting looting Bank of America somehow, or Morgan Stanley, or whoever- what if there was a gang who kept taking money from these giant operations and somehow got away with it for a while? Would there be people who cheered them? What if some rogue found a way to rob some of those CEO's of their "golden parachutes"? Wouldn't he or she be an instant hero? I bet you, in the current atmosphere of fear and desperation pervading the American psyche, that if some nut job walked up to Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson and kicked him in the balls, said nut job would be an instant hit on YouTube, and on the cover of every major news magazine, web site, etc. within a day.
Isn't that amazing? We now live in a time where it's really easy to understand the mindset of the average American during the Great Depression.
Speaking of which, the Dow dropped over 700 points today after the House failed to pass the economic Bail Out plan. Just exactly who are the public enemies these days?

It's the End of the World as We Know It, and I Feel Fine

I am surprised that there aren't more mentions of Ragnarok these days. Ragnarok, also known as the Twilight of the Gods, the End of All Things, and what's on the TV tonight. Maybe the similarity between current times and the Norse story of the end of the world is going to be the talking point for one of the political parties next week, after we are told yet again that the next Great Depression is almost here. While it is clear that times are a-changin', and that things aren't necessarily coming up roses at the moment, I find it hard to take all the gloom and doom from the current Masters of the Universe seriously. I've just heard it too much, too often, and from too many stuffed shirts whom I don't trust. (see Bush, George)

The right side of the political spectrum seems to be talking out of both sides of its mouth ad nauseum, like an uptight version of the Roman god Janus, if I may switch pantheons. And it's nothing new. Remember how after the attacks of 9/11, in between dire warnings of dirty bombs, anthrax, and Bin Laden, we were told to go shopping? Now we're being told about Washington Mutual crumbling, but not to worry, everything will work out if we can just get this bail out thing worked out.

Right.

I think I am doing Janus a dis-service by comparing those on the right to that venerable God of Doorways, beginnings, and endings. (and I'm not being soft on Janus just because I used him in my play Some Unfortunate Hour) No, let's lose the "J" and make a new god- Anus, American God of politics, known for talking out of both sides of his ass.

Okay, let's be fair. There are people on the left who do that as well. But it seems to me that the right has the lion's share of Anus-like folk. Just watch Fox News for a few minutes if you don't believe me.

All I'm saying, in a rambling, off kilter sort of way- is that I think the powers that be are full of crap, and I don't feel any comfort when I listen to them, with the exception of a few good folk, like Barney Frank and our next president, Barak Obama.

Okay. Rant over.

Just one more thing. My brilliant friend Jack Halpin texted me a great quote that I want to share with you all: Shooting wolves from a plane is to hunting what hiring a prostitute is to dating. Sadly true.

Now I am off to the races, to teach theatre to children, try to figure out how to sell my screenplay Elsewhere (an adaptation of my first play, Last Call), and then it's home to watch the debates, which for the moment are on again. But that's just what Anus is saying, so we'll see if it's comes to pass.

If you have any further insights to the American God Anus, please share them in the comment section of this blog.

God Bless America.

Friday wrap up

So, here it is the end of the week, and my God did a lot of things happen. First off, i got this nasty cold that's been going around out here in Colorado- call it the purple state flu or something like that. i've felt out of it, underwater, and just plain off- maybe it's just the fact that the economy has tanked in ways that didn't seem possible to most of us. i have read plenty about the Great Depression- Hoovervilles, the crash, and all that- but i never thought i'd be able to relate to it as well as i think we all can now. It boggles the mind, and nobody seems to be able to explain what's happened completely. If you can tell me what the hell is going on- other than that a bunch of greedy bastards have somehow screwed the pooch to the tune of a trillion dollar bail out- let me know. Let us all know.

Anyway.

i also made the huge mistake of watching the re-make of The Wicker Man the other night. Re-makes almost always stink. It's some sort of rule. i had this thought while watching it that McCain is sort of a re-make of Bush. Seriously- same basic plot, same basic characters- just sexed up a little. No thanks.

i enjoyed watching the polls move in favor of Obama. Oh yes i did.

i also got my confirmation of being registered to vote here in Colorado. This will be the first presidential election i've voted in during which i don't live in either California or New York- so it's kind of cool to think my vote could help turn a traditionally red state blue.

Also found a cool article by playwright Eve Ensler about Governor Strangelove.

Speaking of playwrights, this Monday in NYC, a scene from Burning the Old Man will be presented at the NYIT Awards. The scene is being presented by Boomerang Theatre Co., who are being presented with the Caffe Cino Fellowship Award. The presentation will feature the talents of one of my best friends, Vinnie Penna, so i am very happy. On top of that, Martin and Rochelle Denton will be recognised with the Stewardship award for all the amazing work they do with both nytheatre.com and NYTE. They are the main reason i am a playwright, and their value to the theatre is incalculable.
So, if you are in NYC and can make it, go to the show- on top of the awards and scenes, there will be the likes of Edward Albee, Blue Man Group, and many other giants of theatre.
Also this week, the president spoke twice, for a couple of minutes, about how things stink and not to worry and we may as well try to flap our arms as if they're wings in the belief that it'll make us fly. Maybe it was part of the cold, but i just couldn't focus on him when he spoke.
Speaking of the Purple State Cold- yes, that's now it's official name- my head is feeling warm and it's time to rest.

It's the Economy, Again

Well, no sooner had I posted my second blog about how it was all over for McCain & Co., than the stock market crashed and burned- big time, to borrow a phrase from Mr. Cheney. And with that crash comes the country-wide realization that yes, indeed, the issues matter. A lot.
Most of us have never lived in anything close to such trying times as these. The economy is being called the worst since the Great Depression. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are not really going so well. McCain can say "we're winning" as much as he wants- until I see our troops coming home in huge numbers- indeed, until the troop level in Iraq is at least a little lower than pre-surge- I don't think people are going to buy it. Not for any significant length of time. And then there's global climate change, which some people say is the reason we have so many monster storms demolishing Texas and Louisiana again and again. Let's face it, folks- things are rough, and as such, issues matter very much.
Campaigns can write as many speeches as they want, manufacturing righteous indignation about imagined slurs in between cute stories about hunting Moose on the tundra- that won't and can't stop the world from turning and bringing the unexpected. Stuff happens, to borrow a phrase from another pillar of society. And when said stuff happens, we inevitably take a longer look at who is applying for the job of running the joint once the current head honcho hits the bricks. McPalin looked fine when the issue was personality and moose hunting and lipstick applied to both pigs and pit bulls. But now that we've all been abruptly jerked back into reality by the worst day on Wall Street since re-0pening after 9/11, I don't think the GOP ticket looks so good to as many folks as it did just yesterday morning. Today- not last week or a month ago or a year ago or back when he was having trouble as one of the Keating Five- but today, the day being called Black Monday, today John McCain said the fundamentals of our economy are strong.
Huh?
Is he kidding? Nuts? High? I mean, it seems to me that the fundamentals of our economy have been upended by a bunch of de-regulation mad lobbyists- most of whom now seem to be working on the McCain campaign. Call me crazy, but I don't trust the Republicans anymore. I just don't. I never did all that much, but there used to seem to be at least some modicum of sanity and honor in the party, Nixon not-withstanding. Amazing as it may be, I find myself waxing rhapsodic about the good old days of Reagan and Bush 41. The party that can claim Lincoln has become so obviously out of touch with reality, so crassly bought and so callously run, that I have no respect for it what-so-ever. No doubt, soon there will be some spokes model or other from the right telling us all that what really caused the current financial mess wasn't lack of regulation, greed on a massive scale, lazy CEO's, or anything like that, but rather the Democrat Party and all their evil ways. They'll tell us that it was those darn corporate taxes that made it all happen. That and of course gay marriage.
And when they do, I'll just sort of quote Bush and say:
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Governor Strangelove and How I Stopped Worrying

For the past two weeks, the world has seemed to be slouching toward Armageddon yet again-to be not only flirting with disaster, but making sweet love to it- and the harbinger of this awful vision was a lipstick wearing Pit Bull named Sarah Palin. It's like everyone drank the Republican Kool Aid and believed that Senator Voldemort and Governor Dolores Umbridge(to nowhere) were bound to win and that was that. Game Over, my friends, and get ready for four more years of- well, you get the picture.

But then, when things looked just awful and all was lost, like Gandalf showing up at Helms Deep, that sweet feeling of hope returned to my heart, and it all got better. Quite quickly. Now, I'm not talking about that odd interview with Charlie up north- to me, that sense of dread passed a few days before we all learned that you can see Russia from parts of Alaska. That just confirmed what I sensed to be true- the jig is up, the genie is out of the bottle, and happy days are here again.

I believe that the McCain ticket has reached it's high water mark, and now has nowhere to go but down into obscurity, to lost honor and ignominy.

Don't believe me? Just look at what was on tv this past week. There was Old Johnny on the View getting beat up on-including accusations of approving of lies and distortions- and the reaction to said beating is McCain being booed by an audience comprised mainly of women who look like the people I am supposed to believe are now moving in droves to the GOP ticket. There was also that ridiculous ad accusing the other side of teaching little kids about sex when in reality they were teaching them how to avoid predators. Of course, there was Governor Strangelove freaking out on national tv, winking, fidgeting, and kind of rambling. I mean, it was weird- I don't care what the pundits from her party say, Palin seemed like someone who'd taken a lot of cocaine and was trying to maintain because their parents have dropped in unexpectantly.

And there was Obama on Letterman, smiling and speaking with confidence and ease in front of a cheering audience. There was Obama at a news conference talking about lipstick and pigs with power and dignity and grace- which is what he does well, and which is why he is the nominee.

Beyond all that, I have a gut feeling that it's over for the goon squad that is the McCain-Palin ticket. People always say to follow your instinct, because it's almost always right. I've found that to be true in all my personal experiences. This innate sense of hope is the same feeling I got during the Schiavo thing- that feeling that the free ride was over for the right wing, that the pendulum of politics had swung as far right as it was going to swing, that the worm had turned. Right now there are lots of people on the left who are in a panic- they have seen idiots elected before, they have seen nasty ads work, they've seen a vast majority of America appear to be blind, deaf, and dumb- and I understand that. I do. But it's over. Time to realize that McCain-Palin is the real bridge to nowhere, and that we are all going to rise and say, loud and clear, thanks but no thanks.