Month / November 2006

by Edward Champion

Hope for Ned Lamont?

liebermandog.jpgI’m likely to run naked into the streets tonight if the Democrats manage to take both houses, but the one thing that would make me laugh my ass off and wallow in the most despicable schadenfreude (and since I’m drinking tonight, I should note that bourbon does this to a man) would be to see Joe Lieberman go down in flames. There are some early signs that this may, in fact, happen.

The Journal-Inquirer: “In Manchester by 10 a.m., 5,562 voters, 18.3 percent of those registered in town, had come to the polls, officials said.” Keep in mind that 23,643 voted in Manchester during the 2004 presidential election. Now I should note that 18.3% of that little number is a mere 4,327 heads. Which suggests that, in Manchester at least, more people are concerned with this race than 2004.

The Hartford Courant is also reporting that there is a high turnout.

NBC30 reports that the secretary of state believes that this is the biggest turnout for a statewide race in more than a decade.

Whether these are Joe-lovers or Ned-lovers, it is difficult to say. It’s encouraging, but let’s not count our chickens just yet.

by Edward Champion

Wiki: The Great Tool of Collaboration

Publishers Weekly: “Now Wharton School Publishing, an imprint of Pearson Education, is readying a blueprint on how Web 2.0 technologies can benefit business with the first business book to be written Wiki style—We Are Smarter Than Me (fall 2007).”

By a stunning coincidence, Return of the Reluctant has obtained a copy of the Wiki in question. What follows is an excerpt from the Wiki discussion page marked “Chapter One.”

Discussion on First Sentence

I changed one comma in the first sentence just to clean up the grammar and the page was reverted. Come on. Why should there really be a comma between “empowering” and “you”? The whole point is that the book will empower the reader and they need to know this from the first sentence. That’s what we’re trying to do with this: make better managers. more$$$thanu 20:27, 28 October 2006 (UTC)

I don’t believe the first sentence meets current acceptability standards. Who is this mysterious “you” that we’re referring to? It’s difficult enough typing the word “you” and then reading it back, realizing that the text is now addressing you, but that, just two minutes earlier, you had typed the word “you” into the computer. It makes me wonder if I should see my therapist after Sunday’s golf match. I had a three hour meeting with the vice president of my company about this issue and he advises to avoid the word “you” altogether, particularly when writing a management guide. Unless, of course, you’re in the process of firing someone, in which case this pronoun is necessary. Consider also that not even the grammarian above can type all three letters of that hallowed word. Sounds hypocritial to me. Let the sentence stand. waitingfortheweekend 08:34, 29 October 2006 (UTC)

I like Chinese food! vcfan99 11:42, 29 October 2006 (UTC)

I like Chinese food too, but whether or not you enjoy Chinese food or not, boredbeyondbelief, is besides the point. We’re trying to write a book here and we can’t even agree upon the first sentence, much less get basic grammar right. more$$$thanu 13:12, 29 October 2006 (UTC)

To respond to more$$$thanu’s criticisms, I find the use of proper and indisputedly Anglo grammar to be racist in the extreme. Should we not have a chapter written in Ebonics? We don’t want Black Enterprise on our ass. I’ve reverted back to waitingfortheweekend’s version. corporatelydiverse 10:11, 30 October 2006 (UTC)

I’ve taken another stab at the first sentence, this time without the words “empowering” and “you.” But this too has been changed. I’ve started a Wikipedia dispute to resolve this issue. For now, I’ve locked the page to prevent further vandalism. appealingtoreason 15:25, 30 October 2006 (UTC)

by Edward Champion

Voting

I was third in line, the first to return the mammoth five-sheet ballot in the machine, which I had spent hours researching last night and this morning.

I have to commend the volunteers at the Page Street Library. Last year, I experienced problems. But it seems that there has been serious reform. The woman who hectored me about voting a particular way last year had disappeared. In fact, the Department of Elections has become much stricter about the dissemination of political information near polling places. Outside the library, one gentleman was asked to remove his button because he was well within 100 feet of the polling place. In light of the endless machine-oriented calls (Ah-nuld apparently called me last night at 10:02 PM) and the despicable robocalls reported, it’s good to know that some areas of the nations still care about ethical elections.

Now comes the midterm elections, which I am now prepared to accept whichever way they turn out. It’s really anybody’s game at this point. The polls are close, yet the stakes are high.

In discussing the matter with friends, there have been comparisons to the so-called 1994 “Republican revolution,” should the Democrats manage to take back both houses. I think it’s naive to assume that any big sweep is going to mean dancing in the streets. If we do this, this is the first battle in a long war to undo the damage that these bozos have inflicted upon the country.

Can the Democrats be counted upon to show some spine? Let’s not kid ourselves. But I think any liberal can agree that a tug of war is better than getting sodomized.

by Edward Champion

An Open Note to All American Citizens

I do not care what your political persuasion is. But I’ll just say this.

If you do not vote tomorrow, you are not entitled to complain. You are not entitled to bitch. You are not entitled to raise a stink about anything that goes down during the next few years. If you cannot get your lazy ass off the sofa and get down to a polling place, then anything even remotely political coming out of your maw means nothing. Because in throwing your vote away, in choosing not to participate, you have capitulated one of the great rights bestowed upon you by our Founding Fathers.

Perhaps you’re hesitant because you can’t be troubled to actually look at all that helpful information that came in the mail. I mean, hell, hundreds of pages of legalese ain’t exactly riveting reading. Or maybe it’s because you can’t be troubled to concern yourself with the crazed situation unfolding around us, or because you’re annoyed by all the automated phone calls, or because you are perhaps guided by fear or laziness or the sense that your voice does not matter or that this election will be stolen. Well, your voice does matter! And don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.

But if you decide not to use that voice, even if it means wincing when pulling the lever for a flaacid Democrat or voting in a shady Republican incumbent you’re not particularly crazy about (full confession: I’m going to be doing a lot of wincing tomorrow morning myself), if you cannot be troubled to make a hard and careful decision about the future of this nation, then how, I ask, can you live with yourself? You’re capable of deciding among any number of uneasy dichotomies: Coke or Pepsi? Lennon or McCartney? Beatles or Stones? Mozart or Beethoven? Mac or PC? Star Trek or Star Wars? All of these are troublesome and sometimes quite nauseous choices to make, representing a veritable yin-yang of pros and cons no matter which way you decide. But you have no problems accepting the responsibility of being culturally decisive in this field.

Do you mean to tell me that, when you see an unsavory duo like the Republicans and Democrats, you cannot make a similar choice? That you cannot make a decision? Even a reluctant one?

Sure, the electoral college system sucks. And you’re not alone in despising it or thinking that it’s useless. No less a figure than Thomas Jefferson wrote:

….I have no hesitation in saying that I have ever considered the constitutional mode of election ultimately by the legislature voting by states as the most dangerous blot in our constn*, and one which some unlucky chance will some day hit, and give us a pope & anti-pope.

Jefferson’s words to George Hay were amazingly prophetic. For what do we have but the pope and anti-pope? Red states and blue states? A political system that suggests you are for something or against something, when any Joe with even a dollop of common sense knows that life ain’t that black and white.

But this is nevertheless our system. And, flawed as it is, if you do not make your voice known tomorrow, you have nobody to blame but yourself.

It is profoundly important that you vote tomorrow. Vote not because some smug suit or scruffy hippie tells you that you should vote a particular way, but because now, more than ever, this republic needs your input.

* — Short for “Constitution.”

by Edward Champion

Roundup

  • James Ellroy, as every literary person knows, is insane. In fact, he’s so insane that a bestselling novelist, who wasn’t exactly the beacon of mental health himself, once told me that he was frightened of him. But the publicist who got Ellroy into the same room as Deborah Solomon is brilliant.
  • Mr. Dan Wickett, the indefatigable man behind Emerging Writers Network, has launched Dzanc Books with a certain Steve Gillis. But now he has first title: a short story collection called Roy Kesey’s All Over, which will be published in October 2007. I’m definitely looking forward to reading this.
  • Paul Auster on writing.
  • If you need a little funny before tomorrow’s elections, which seem to be stressing me out as I prepare for the possibility of two more years of total Republican control, look no further than Buster Keaton’s “One Week,” featuring perhaps the best policeman kick in cinematic history (just after the famous motorcycle gag).
  • The ULA now has a book review blog. I was going to dismiss it, but any book review site passionate about Upton Sinclair can’t be all bad.
  • If you’re in Los Angeles, the world’s biggest Richard Ford fan, Tod Goldberg, will be interviewing Ford on Wednesday night. This is the guy who not only drove 300 miles to see Ford, but who left his sick-as-a-dog S.O. to do it. That’s hardcore. I mean. That’s hardcore. Hell, even I wouldn’t do that. So you can imagine that this will be a particularly exuberant conversation.
  • Rupert Everett’s memoir sold for £1 million and has only sold 15,000 copies. Other fascinating flops here. (via Bookninja)
  • Has Sin City 2 been canned?
  • A strange advertising deal between Google and newspapers.
  • The first ten minutes of the absolutely terrible Chevy Chase Show. How bad is it? Well, within the first minute, he talks in a high-pitched voice and sets up a puking joke. While he is introduced, he shoots hoops as if going through a midlife crisis. Train wreck television history.
  • Oprah kills literary momentum?
by Edward Champion

BSS #76: Scott Smith

segundo76.jpg

Author: Scott Smith

Condition of Mr. Segundo: Still missing, replaced temporarily by a windbag.

Subjects Discussed: The addictive nature of The Ruins, insecurity, writing without an outline, making a seemingly preposterous premise believable, Rupert Thomson, on taking things too far, how deadlines help, aborted 1,000 page novels, Michael Moorcock, inserting objects into a narrative, how genre assists in the writing process, archetypal characters, 80s sex comedies, unintentional themes, the international perspective, Stephen King, relying upon the Internet for research, Michiko Kakutani, writing a book without chapter breaks, gore in fiction, the Ruins film adaptation, and working with Sam Raimi.

EXCERPT FROM SHOW:

Smith: There’s a lot to A Simple Plan where people thought there were larger themes attached to it. I don’t write that way. I wouldn’t even know how to go about writing that way. I think that probably there are sentiments that probably are just culturally out there, that get sucked into the writing. Someone said [The Ruins] is a metaphor for the Iraq war, you know, Americans going hubristically out and not knowing the language or the culture and getting into this hellish place. Which sounds great! I wish I thought of that.

by Edward Champion

Jerry Haleva Accidentally Executed

haleva.jpgActor Jerry Haleva, who portrayed Saddam Hussein in several comedic movies, was accidentally executed by federal authorities this morning. Mr. Havela proved so convincing in the role of Saddam that he was arraigned and executed before most Americans had their breakfasts. But a telltale birthmark on Haleva’s thigh revealed that the cops had the wrong man.

“We really thought it was him,” said Department of Homeland Security spokesman Harold Himmler. “But no biggie. We’ll be able to clean this mess up. Lack of due process hasn’t stopped us before.”

Hollywood has responded to Haleva’s untimely demise by writing and editing out political references from all forthcoming projects and blacklisting any actors who even remotely resemble political figures.

But it is now generally assumed that America is safer.

by Edward Champion

Between Two Tables

Due to last night’s circumstances, it was necessary to galvanize my flaccid corpus with a capacious breakfast — a meal involving an omelet, fruit, and terrifying but tasty potatoes topped with a dollop of sour cream (the latter I partially resisted) — that would take me well into this afternoon’s mean. I brought no books with me this time, nor did I call upon anybody to accompany me. I secured the last remaining booth in my establishment and found myself situated between two booths.

I am, as anybody who knows me, an inveterate eavesdropper. It is something I cannot help and that I cannot apparently curtail. I rely upon peripheral vision and peripheral hearing to impart a better understanding of my fellow humans — that is, when I am not directly talking with them.

In the booth behind me, a redolent waft of sebaceous body odor overpowered me. Fortunately, the Kinks were playing over the speakers. And the grand comforts of “Autumn Almanac” and “Waterloo Sunset” were enough to overlook this olfactory intrusion. The aroma came from a man of indeterminate age between thirty and fifty, someone who was now in the process of drinking his life away. He was accompanied by a portly woman in a tie-dyed tee, who I had thought was committing an act of charity by buying this man, who spoke in staccato slurs, a large and tasty meal to sober him up. But I was wrong. No. This was a couple. And she was ashamed. They were apparently going to catch a MUNI bus immediately after and I wondered if they were skipping town. And he slurred his words, beckoning for another beer. And he shouted to the waitress, who was a bit inexperienced and apologetic (I tipped her well), not to “take 200 years” in returning with the change. It was this last solecism, one of many, that caused the woman to demand that he not embarrass her in restaurants like this. Perhaps detecting the upward prick of my ears, knowing that she was attracting attention (although nobody would look at them directly), I then observed her kissing the man on the cheek. From what I can tell, she wasn’t dumb. But I could not stop pondering what it was that made her stick with this boorish man, who showed no discernible signs of intelligence. He had a drunken philosopher’s wit that many years before might have aided him in divagating through dives, believing perhaps that he was charming the bartenders when in fact it was their laconic stances that had brought forth more drinks and bountiful tips. But now this was gone and he was just plain sad. So what made her stay with this guy? Was it a kind of personal altruism related to the tie-dyed tee? Was this a person who had applied a naive idealism to her personal life? Or had she truly settled for the worst simply to belong to anyone? I don’t believe this man deserved her. In the state he was in, he couldn’t take care of himself. And I wondered what positive qualities he could have possibly displayed in private. There had to be something. Nobody is completely evil and love is often a strange thing.

The table in front of me, by contrast, offered an altogether different scenario. A young couple in their late twenties was in the process of charming a mother. It was one of those infamous breakfasts a couple often has about six months into a relationship, where you take a parent out to breakfast in an effort to better acquaint yourself. But I was absolutely fascinated by the conversation’s safe and pedantic nature. The bespectacled woman — her skin unsullied by tattoos or birthmarks, representing the kind of disturbing pristinity you see from someone who is religious with skin cream, her hair cast safely, perhaps lazily, in a blue bandanna, was remarking upon the situation at work, and how callow her fellow employees were in pinpointing the smell of her skin cream and remarking upon it. And in light of what I was observing behind me, I was struck with how trivial this grievance was compared with the broken man behind me. Indeed, this couple, being relatively young and happy in their relationship, had filtered out the entire world beyond that table. And if the woman’s story was the worst of her troubles, then I wondered if she was even aware of the alcoholic-hippie couple behind me. I wondered if this trio was cognizant that such people exist and that these kind of comparisons really put your own troubles into an appropriately insignificant perspective.

by Edward Champion

The Morning After

Someone cue up “The Poseidon Adventure” (the original version). (And did you know it won an Oscar?)

Okay, somehow I “updated” Firefox from 2.0 to 1.5 and I have a considerable hangover that I hope breakfast will alleviate. I recall a lengthy telephone conversation involving Saint-Saens’ “Carnival of the Animals” and how I was ashamed to reveal my love of classical music because I didn’t feel I was culturally cognizant enough. Woo hoo!

In any event, thank you for playing. And hopefully there were more NaDruWriNi participants than the mere six I found!

by Edward Champion

#8: what?

okay, so i am beyond the point of coherence…..i am trying to download “carnival of the animals” right now without success…the irony being that I am too drunk (read: too lazy) to pull it from my cd shelf….lazy lazy lazy drunk drunk….man…..okay, I bid you adieur