Posts Tagged ‘John McCain’

Who’s nailin’ Palin? The media, of course.

November 7th, 2008

Chicago

No sooner was the McCain campaign pronounced dead around 11 pm on November 4, the autopsy began. The initial area of interest: the dissection of an appendage called Sarah Palin.

After two months on a roller coaster ride, in which the highs were over in the first few days (that is before she opened her mouth) Sarah Palin is back in Alaska endangering moose as predicted. She leaves behind a trail of clothing bills; a gaggle of McCain aides finally able to vent their frustration; and an audience that will miss Tina Fey’s version of Palin on Saturday Night Live. Fey, whose impersonation would have pulled at least as many votes (if not more, it came across as smarter) announced that the character was buried two days ago.

But first, to the aides. That the old man had made a terrible mistake was apparent enough to anyone who followed Palin’s babbling through the campaign, but it took a classy prank to finally convince the McCain camp.

A Canadian comedian pretending to be Nikolas Sarkozy spoke to her on the telephone, softening her up with general platitudes about women in politics, praising her looks and then going on to say that he was looking forward to the new Hustler ‘documentary’ on her (’Who’s nailin’ Palin).

This was about the time that people get it, but not Palin, who giggled. Furthermore, it turned out that although it was ’set up’ days before, she had not cleared the ‘interaction’ with the campaign high command, thus finally establishing her foreign policy credentials for all those who harboured doubts.

It emerged during the subsequent investigation by furious McCain advisers, that Palin had a ‘foreign policy adviser’ herself. Someone, it is believed who lives even closer to Russia than even she does. This man took the fall.

In the recent past, in addition to insightful interviews for the public at large, she had given subtle hints to campaign managers on the inside that she was not Madame Curie. It has been reported that it was difficult to convince her that Africa was not a country, but a continent, for instance.

Then came the bills. $1,50,000 spent on clothing for herself and her family at such hockey mom-frequented stores as Saks and Neiman Marcus. Those around her blithely bought stuff on their personal credit cards and were duly reimbursed by public money.

But more than the clothes, it was the entourage. Palins little and big were all over the campaign, jostling for space in strategy huddles with hapless policy advisers. “The dynamic of meetings change” as a result, one insider told The New Yorker. One report even has her opening the door to her suite clad in two towels, to tell an aide to wait with her husband in another room.

Why did McCain choose Palin? This is a difficult one to answer without kicking an honorable man that’s down. But how he chose her was revealed by the New Yorker’s last issue.

Palin’s attempted crossing from Wasilla to Washington began when a little-known fundamentalist blogger began a campaign promoting her after eliminating other women republicans using wikipedia searches. Then, in the Summer of 2007, two batches of influential conservative media personalities visited Alaska on cruises. Pain hosted both groups and floored them with halibut, salmon and plain charm. Bill Kristol, pundit on Fox News Sunday and influential writer for The Weekly Standard, was the most enamoured. He called her his “heartthrob” and as good as made the announcement of her candidacy before McCain got around to it in early September.

Palin had successfully used the very Washington insiders that she purportedly loathed to get on the ticket.

The New Yorker also revealed that McCain had spent a total of less than three hours with Palin before announcing her as his running mate. But the backroom boys didn’t fare much better. They most likely did not know at the time of the announcement that her teen-age daughter was pregnant (sort of important, isn’t it for a christian values. There were serious gaps in the obviously hurried vetting process before she was flown down to McCain’s retreat in Sedona, Arizona.

Now the question is, if the old man could divine Palin’s neighbour Putin’s thoughts by looking into his eyes in a matter of minutes, what was he thinking looking into Sarah’s for hours?

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Tomorrow has come

November 4th, 2008

Chicago

By the time you read this, the world would have changed. The last stretch of that process is on right now, as a record number of Americans line up to vote on Tuesday. They don’t want history to pass them by–again–so two third of those eligible are expected to turn up, the highest turnout since 1908.

As I write this a block away from Grant Park, where an Obama victory rally is planned in about 12 hours, Barack himself is voting, accompanied by his wife Michelle in a Chicago booth. This is a live event on all major news channels.

He had just one word for his audience at his last campaign rally in Manassas, Virginia late on Monday night: “Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow has come. He appears cool, smiling, talking to Michelle and his daughters, on a day his grandmother Madelyn Dunham (the woman who “poured everything she had” into Obama) would have loved to have seen. She died at 86 on Monday.

He was very close to her, but in an understated way, he’s moved on. He takes an incredibly long time to fill up the ballot. If everyone takes this long (about 10 minutes at the very least) then a lot of people will be left standing.

Joe Biden, who the democratic campaign made sure would vote in Delaware right after the Obamas finished in Chicago–just as a bit of airtime freed up–got the job done real quick. For those standing in queues in precincts around the country, this is more like it. Some of them came to vote as early as 5.30 in the morning–spending an acceptable hour and a half to complete voting. Already, there have been as many as 11,000 complaints of overcrowding and machine malfuctions, a notable complaint came in from veteran journalist Barbara Walters.

The polls all have Obama ahead: solid leads beyond margins of error that will lead to a resounding victory that no one thought was possible as he entered the race for the democratic nomination so many months ago.

He outlasted the Clintons. He also outspent them–which tells you what a strong idea he was selling. “Not a red America or a blue America, but a United States of America.” To the youth, on whom so much will depend today, he was the one they were waiting for.

When stood up to give speeches, he seemed to read poetry. When he sat down to listen–to opponents in a debate, for instance–he looked like a languid jazz musician who’s set his instrument down briefly, but is ready to pick it up and answer by hitting notes so precise they would have to be mathematical.

The economic crisis helped his cause. People became colourblind as their savings got wiped out and their houses foreclosed, they just wanted the right man for the job. Even by elimination, John McCain wasn’t the man: he blundered through the height of the crisis, at one point suspending his campaign to go to Washington.

This was inexplicable, because he said absolutely nothing there, and did even less. He also ensured that he hollowed out the experience argument against Obama by choosing Sarah Palin, who fumbled through the campaign like a B-list impostor trying to play vice-presidential candidate.

As if to confirm this (widely-held) view she told a reporter who asked her who she had voted for as she left a booth in Wassilla, Alaska, that she was excercising her right to privacy by keeping that information confidential.

That she may, perhaps by an act of God, still get to the White House is gives people the shivers even though halloween is over. It is much more likely that she will go back to shooting poor Alaskan animals from the air, in time to hoard meat for the winter, forcing the joke writers for the networks to go into hibernation.

This might change the world for the better. But there are far more profound changes in the offing. Should Obama get elected, the signal that the United States sends out to the world is that it has genuinely transformed. That it is not in denial about the financially destructive, militarily senseless and gravely injurious addiction of the Bush years, and is ready for rehab.

A large number of Americans don’t like the selfish, arrogant, consumptive, overweight–and now poor–person they see in the mirror the world holds up to them. They view this election as a chance to correct that.

Grant Park is getting ready. There’s an unprecedented number of cop cars. There are ribbons of roadblocks across orange stumps everywhere. Some say a million people will turn up. But it seems quiet in the morning, unless you listen hard to the sounds of the Chicago. The anthem of the election is playing out as traffic rolls down the streets and voters march to their booths, keeping time to ‘Yes we can, yes we can.’

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A ‘Front Row Seat To Witness History’ Contest

November 3rd, 2008

Chicago

I’ve been getting urgent mails from Barack Obama over the last few days. Me, and a couple of million other people, inviting us to join him at a rally in Chicago’s Grant Park on election night. National polls–even including the one conducted by Fox News–show Obama ahead by about 6 points overall and in unexpectedly opportune positions in States like Ohio, Virginina and Indiana. The rally has a victory theme to it–at the moment.

But there’s more to the mails than that. Obama’s ’signed’ mail a couple of days ago, was what you might call an initial offer: “This election will come down to what we do — or don’t do — in the next few days” he told me.

“John McCain and the Republican National Committee had $20 million more in the bank than our campaign and the DNC combined as of October 15th. They are pouring it into crucial battleground states, and we’re facing an onslaught of negative attacks.

“Your support will have a huge impact.

“Step up during this historic moment, and you could be there on Election Night.

“Will you donate $30 or more today?

As a bonus, we’ll send you a special edition Change the World T-shirt.”

$30 for a T-shirt? A second, improved, offer comes in, this time from Marianne Markowitz, Chief Financial Officer, Obama for America:

“This weekend the McCain campaign said they would outspend us by $10 million in the final days. This is on top of recent news that, as of October 15th, our opponents had $20 million more in the bank than our campaign and the DNC combined.

“We knew the McCain campaign was saving its resources for a last-minute blitz, and now we know just how much they’ll pour into it.

“No matter what, we need to match what our opponents are spending in the final stretch. We can’t slow down between now and Election Day.

“If you give today — any amount — you could be one of 5 first-time donors who will have a front row seat for the big Election Night event in Chicago with Barack.

“If you’re selected, we’ll fly you and a guest in and put you up in a hotel. You’ll go backstage at the big event and — no matter what happens — you’ll have a front row seat to history as we celebrate the supporters who got us over the finish line.”
Campaign manager David Plouffe, weighs in as well. But he doesn’t raise the offer any further.

The candidates have managed to make this the most well-funded campaign in history–well over a billion dollars have been spent already and–and in the final days it looks like they’re hosing the country down with dollar bills.

Obama, not limited to depending on party funding for his campaign (unlike McCain) had raised $640 million by mid-October. A quarter of this money coming from small donors with the allurement of a T-shirt or a front row rally seat, or, (why be cycnical) a promise of change.

There is no greater endorsement for a product than the fact that it sells $640 million worth. Also remember that the other three-fourths of Obama’s money is actually coming in from large donors/businesses. This is happening at a time when the mere mention of the phrase ‘distribution of wealth’ freaks people out.

But as people count down the hours to November 4, the Obama campaign is still counting its money. It’s never too late to get that extra $5. Besides, the ‘First time donor front row contest’ has added costs.

There’s a flight ticket, a hotel (they did not to mention a type, but let’s just assume it’ll be Motel Change, or similar.) And then there is expectation management: what if Motel Change is one of those common shower set ups with bugs between the sheets and no HBO?

You’ve been promised they’ll swap your room–even change the hotel. What you may not have been told is that it might take a few years.

Latest National Poll round-up:
Gallup: 51 Obama, 43 McCain. Up from 49-47 last week
Rasmussen daily tracking: 51 Obama, 46 McCain.
CBS: 54 Obama, 41 McCain.
CNN: 53 Obama, 46 McCain.
Fox News: Obama 47, McCain 44.

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Visiting Joe The Plumber’s house

November 2nd, 2008

Toledo, Ohio

“Hadn’t heard of him till last week”, says the lady at 457 Shrewsbury Street. Down a few houses from Toledo’s most famous address: ‘Joe the Plumber’s house.’

“Worked for the U.S. mail till five years ago, and I don’t remember them”, the lady says. Implying of course, that this old(ish) community is mildly under threat by recent infiltrators. Joe, or Samuel Joseph Wurzelbacher, is one of them.

In the last days of a campaign that’s trying to put the plumbing in after building the house, John McCain is banking heavily on Joe the plumber. In the case of an unlikely victory, the man who discovered Joe may well become secretary of state.

Joe himself might initially be contracted to flush the White House clean of any residual cigars or pretzels blocking a presidential brain, sorry, drain. After the successful completion of this task, there are a number of options. Ranging from succeeding Hank Paulson to an appropriate role in urban planning.

In the case of a loss…? Well there’s always a book deal: ‘Joe Who? How McCain chose the wrong man after choosing the wrong woman.’

‘Joe Who?’ would have been a fair enough question on Shrewsnury Street, Holland, suburb of Toledo. Till the day John McCain invoked Joe (13 times, I’ve been told) in a presidential debate on October 15.

Since then, Joe has become one of the characters of this election. Joining people like Bill Ayers (innocent; former terrorist and Obama associate); Jeremiah Wright (guilty; Obama’s former pastor, of being a christian isotope of Louis Farrakkan, though with different views on Obama); and Sarah Palin (guilty; vice presidential candidate, of opening her mouth).

The multiple mentions have changed both him and his street. The lady at 457 talks about the row of television camera crews and satellite dishes that lined it the previous week, which is otherwise lined by a salubrious row of maple. When on the trees, in end-October, the leaves they burn like little maple-leaf-shaped suns. When on the ground, they need to be swept off the lawn so that there’s a new carpet to sweep tomorrow.

This is what the lady at 457 is doing when we find her. A radio journalist from Holland is there as well, which tells you how widespread, intricate and interconnected the network of the world’s sewage system is. The lady has a distaste for the ‘15 minutes of fame’ idea–more for her street than for Joe.

In the end, she says, “It won’t make any difference at all.” Not many people knew Joe (it follows that even fewer liked him). It’s all become a bit of a joke around here. Seeing two journalist’s walk up and down, a few jobless young adults shout ‘Joe!!’ and run into a house, but it’s got an Obama-Biden yard sign.

At 355, Joe’s house, there’s an SUV parked. No yard sign. (Come to think of it, would there be yard sign in the Palin home in Wassilla?). Joe is out on the trail in Utah, being the showpiece at Republican rallies, and the bell is answered by a tall, fit, middle-aged man and two dogs.

This is ‘Tom’, Joe’s business manager. If you added Dick and Harry, you’d get your average plumbing (or law?) firm.

This business manager thing freaks me out a bit. Two weeks ago, Joe was an employee in a business that had 3 employees at $40,000 a year. Now he’s got a ‘Tom’. Who also keeps house and takes care of the dogs when he’s away.

But consider that there are book deals on offer; a possible country western music recording contract; and the chance of holding elected office. Joe is considering the Congress.

Joe’s house is fairly typical of the neighbourhood: a garage, a little drive, a nondescript screen door with a wire mesh, so we see the business manager divided up into tiny little squares. He won’t open the door. He tells us that we needed to have given notice. Joe isn’t average any more.

In fact, he was below average to begin with if you ask people with plumbing in their DNA, like Tim Antoine, a local taxi driver. Tim’s grandfather was a plumbing inspector, his father was a plumber, his son is a plumber. A certified one, unlike Joe–and is a partner in a business. He earns $85,000 a year, tops.

Joe doesn’t represent the average guy, says Antoine. That guy needs a job before thinking about owning a business.

“Many years I’ve been driving a taxi here in Toledo… I’ve seen a glass plant on the other side of the city, where I grew up in East Toledo there was a glass plant and that glass is now in China. It used to have 5,000 employees, there’s nobody working there right now.” There’s also trouble in the, much larger, automobile industry.

This is a result, Antoine feels of Clinton policies on free trade. So “you’ve got to be cautious” when leaning democratic. But then, while explaining why Joe doesn’t represent him, he says: “I can’t see how any working man can be pro-republican.”

As important on the ballot as the presidential vote in Ohio are the votes to purportedly protect/create jobs. Issue 5, for instance is a bid to remove the state’s 28% interest rate cap on payday lending. (This is America’s version of the village money-lender: interest rates can be close to 400%). The flip side is that 60,000 people reportedly depend on the industry, which isn’t profitable without absurd rates.

There’s issue 6 as well: advertised as the move that will bring 5,000 jobs into Ohio through the gambling business.

These are the concerns of the people on Shrewsbury Street, Ohio. Now that Joe’s out of the way–and the press is gone–they can think about them. They’re thinking: get a job, contemplation about owning a business can follow.

The republicans may have chosen the wrong Joe after all. He isn’t certified. Not to represent either the plumbing community; or his street; or indeed the working man. That guy would love to have Joe’s current position: smiling at rallies, negotiating book and record deals, dealing with the press through a business manager through a screen door.

But that guy also knows that the job is too good to be permanent. After November 4, there could be a load of sewage to clean.

Ohio Facts:

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American Images

November 1st, 2008

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Under suspicion in 9/11 school

November 1st, 2008

Sarasota, Florida

“We are what is called a school in need of improvement”, says Ms Marya Fairchild assistant principal of Emma E Booker Elementary in Sarasota, Florida, scene of a once famous video featuring George W. Bush.

This is where, on September 11, 2001, the president got the news that commercial planes had been flown into the Twin Towers. He was, as some people might recall, listening to second graders reading ‘My pet goat’ at the time. (There is controversy over whether he had his own copy of the book upside down, but let’s not digress.)

In the minutes before he heard the attacks had taken place, President Bush, heard the words “get ready” repeated over a dozen times. But it wasn’t Dick Cheney speaking into his earpiece it was a, teacher orchestrating a performance as the President promoted his recent ‘No Child Left Behind’ (NCLB) legislation.

Seven years on, it turns out that not just one child, the whole school has been ‘left behind’.

Booker Elementary remains a ‘C’ school, whereas every other school in the county is rated A. “Think of it like a trajectory”, says Fairchild, “we’re not on the path to meet requirements.”

How can it? It is a ‘neighbourhood’ school in the town’s roughest neigbourhood. “If you were to pull out a demographic report by this zip code, my guess is that this area would have the highest crime rate in Sarasota”, says Fairchild.

The school has 537 kids, 94% of them are from the (mostly black) minorities and 91% live below the poverty line. To get to it, you pass places that sell soulfood on the outside and drugs on the inside. You cross shacks and shanties and bums and cats. And, of course, a railway line. This is where most of Emma Booker kids live.

Here, you can find every reason why the Republicans trail in Florida. People are wary of four more years of the same. A lot of them blame the war for everything. For instance, couldn’t the poorly funded ‘no child left behind’ program benefit greatly from a fraction of the $10 billion monthly war bill?

Ms Fairchild taught history at the Booker middle school, to which a number of kids from the elementary school end up going, till 2005. I ask her whether she taught any of the kids who were there in the classroom when President Bush visited on September 11, 2001.

She says she doesn’t recall this having come up with any of her students. And then, quite suddenly, she doesn’t want to take any more questions. The interview is over. She tells me to get in touch with the school board for more information.

I step outside onto the parking lot and am in the middle of a call to Gary Leatherman at the board’s communications desk, when a police car pulls up next to me. It has been less than five minutes since I left the school building.

Deputy Perrin, from the Sheriff’s department asks me how I am doing–and what I am doing. He then tells me the reason why he asks: “Someone called saying a guy was roaming around the campus–with a bag.”

This is true. I tell him I have just been inside and spoken to the assistant principal. He says he’d better go and check.

A few minutes later, he finds me again at the head of the road. As he pulls up, another cop car arrives. Deputy Scott has been sent over as well. Perrin asks for my passport and is diligently entering its details onto the computer in his car. He tells Scott that I was asking about 911.

For a brief moment I don’t hear that right, I am about to say that I didn’t call 911 (the emergency number) when I realise that someone from the school did. Fantastic.

Scott, to me: “You don’t have any weapons or anything, do you?”

I laugh, somewhat nervously, and say: “Certainly not.”

Scott to Perrin: “You patted him down yet?”

As Perrin keeps working with my passport, Scott starts another round of questioning. Knowing that anything I might say may be held against me, I tell him the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I was there because George W. Bush was in one of the classrooms on the campus on September 11 2001, I say.

Scott’s badge said he’d served the department since 1994. He goes: “Oh, I was there that day. Spent anxious hours, traffic blocked all over the city. The president could have been a target. We had to get him out of here.”

I was thinking, well, the President was probably safest around here. The guys who executed 9/11 had been based closeby a few months ago, learning how to fly in flight schools in nearby Venice, but they’d reportedly left by August. On 9/11, President Bush was safer at Booker Elementary than he would have been at the White House, which was a definite target.

Deputy Perrin finally completed the data entry and said that his colleague required a photograph of me. I was, of course, the picture of cooperation. So right below the sign that said Booker Elementary, I posed for the snap.

I called a cab after the shoot was over and my passport was safely in my bag. Deputy Scott then asked me where I was headed next. I told him that I was bound for Orlando, then on to Alexadndria, Virginia, on to Toledo Ohio, to Chicago, Illinois, to Madison Wisconsin to parts of North Dakota…

“Man”, he said, “I wish I could travel like that. But I’m stuck here.” He is. On a patch across the street, till the time my cab arrives. Protecting the kids at Booker Elementary.

And I, with depressing visions of now being on a suspects’ database which says ‘must strip-search’ at every airport, head back to the familial warmth of the Sunshine Motel.

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Ron The Plumber …

October 31st, 2008

Sarasota, Florida

One of the most discussed characters in this Presidential election is a man called Samuel Joseph Wurzelbacher–Joe the plumber of Toledo, Ohio which is a swing state. The gentleman who was terrified of Barack Obama’s ’spreading-the-wealth-around tax plan’. And who has became the centrepiece of the McCain campaign ever since the Republican senator repeatedly mentioned him in the debate.

Turns out Joe is actually a little too working class to be affected by the Obama plan. It taxes individuals and businesses with earnings of over $250,000. Joe makes $40,000 annually (but nevertheless aspires to buy a business worth several times his salary). The Obama plan woke him from his American dream rather rudely.

Ron the plumber, of Sarasota, Florida, which is also a swing state, has a very good handle on reality however. Sure, he dreams too: about steady work for himself and his college degree-holding wife. And for the employment to be a little less back-breaking than it is now at the hospital remodelling site he’s at.

He gets on all fours to show me what he does all day. Bunching his shoulders , twisting his neck at acute angles in imaginary closed spaces to simulate how he cuts, welds and rivets pipes that run unseen under neat buildings, keeping them functioning.

He’s on his knees ten hours a day, and they hurt. His clothes are covered with muck. He doesn’t get paid that much–most likely even less than Joe of Toledo.

But it wasn’t always like that. So what happened?

“What happened was the war. George Bush done this. Four years ago ,there was so much work here in Sarasota, work everywhere. Construction, hotels… and then the war started. And all the money had to go there…

“People that are rich, they can survive, but ordinary folks, they can’t. I used to have money in the bank and stuff. Now I’m living week to week.” The emphasis on the last phrase is as heavy as the burden of an unaffordable mortgage payment.

Fortunately, Ron doesn’t own a house he needs to pay for. He lives in a motel, where he makes the rent by doing odd plumbing and maintenance work for the property. If he earned $250,000 a year, he’d be thrilled to pay the extra three per cent.

“My wife’s trying to find a job. She got two college degrees. She can’t find no work. I’m grateful for what I got and I’m lucky… My trade, everybody needs that.” Then he chuckles and says: “When you get up in the morning what do you do? You know, so everybody needs that.”

As essential as it is, plumbing is still affected by constipation–in credit flows. Ron says so: “No new houses being built. So I’m lucky that I got a job with a company at the hospital.”

But he keeps blaming the war for the blighted times. “Osama Bin Laden is laughing at us from his cave or whatever and we’re spending billions in Iraq. It’s been seven years, he’s laughing.”

9/11 is quite close to the bone for people in Sarasota. It was in flight schools in Venice, less than an hour away from here that Mohammad Atta and other hijackers learned to fly aircraft.

Venice is a beautifully designed retirement town built in the 1920s, with wide roads and blue wave beaches, very attractive looking funeral homes, a small airport and several flying schools. But house prices in the area have been very badly hit: they are down an an average by about 40% from their 2007 levels.

Nothing new is being built, so Ron’s got fewer job options. You pass neat homes everywhere, with yard signs that say might say ‘McCain’, ‘Obama’ or ‘For Sale’.

Going by the numbers, if this guy ‘For Sale’ was in the race, he would defintely win–along with his running mate, ‘For Rent’.

Florida facts:

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Colorado will define a person this election

October 26th, 2008

As America votes to elect a new president on November 4, the state of Colorado will vote on how to “define a person”.

On the 4-page ballot paper in Colorado, is Amendment 48 of the Colorado constitution (the U.S. system allows voting on citizen-initiated laws on the same ballot, provided they have a certain number of signatures to support this). It asks Colorado whether they would want a “the terms person, or person, to include any human being from the moment of fertilisation.”

This is not a simple question. If the people answer yes, the implications are huge, says Curtis Miller a 52-year-old pastor. He and his traveling companions are going through the 2008 State Ballot Information Booklet as we approach Glenwood Springs through surreal canyons on a slow train.

If there is a place where you seek answers to the kind of deep questions on the Colorado ballot paper, you could do much worse.

Pastor Curtis, supports the amendment, of course. But he does give it a think. There are practical considerations. But finally, it boils down to: “Life is a gift. And you have to draw the line somewhere.” He is from Denver, but if you ask him, he’ll say: “I’m from the womb.”

If Colorado thinks the same way as the pastor, then abortions would have a different name in Colorado: murder. Because the state guarantees a “person” the right to life. It would also mean a reversal of one of the most important judgements in the U.S. Supreme Court’s history. In 1975, Roe v Wade, the U.S Supreme Court legalised abortion in the U.S, on the ground that the unborn were not included in the word “person” as used in the U.S. Constitution.

John McCain does not agree with that judgement, and Sarah Palin is even more stridently ‘pro-life’, she has a special needs baby to show for it. But Roe v Wade is hugely important, because it upheld the right of a woman to terminate an unwanted pregnancy.

A reversal could limit private, personal choices and could be used to stop the use of commonly used forms of contraception (the ‘day after pill’, for instance) and even hinder stem-cell research

Steve Levitt, economist and co-author of ‘Freakonomics’ wrote a jaw-dropping paper on the correlation between crime and unwanted births–subjects that seem unrelated. Levitt’s argument, based on hard data, was: if you force women who 1) do not want the child andS 2) have no means to support it, to be single moms, then you will get cascading waves of kids turning to crime.

Banning abortion would mean more such kids. Legalising, as the Supreme Court did in Roe v Wade, would reduce crime.

Few churches come out openly in support of on candidate or the other. But in almost all, preachers tell the congregation that they must vote according to a candidate’s Christian values: to check if they are pro-life, and support the biblical version of the birth of the earth (done in 7 days; Noah’s ark and so on, as opposed to evolution from “monkeys” or “cells”) to name just two of these values.

One of pastor Curt’s companions had filled out the Voter “cheat-sheet” for measures on the 2008 ballot. These are provided well before election day, so voters can get a bit of practice for what is a fairly lengthy exercise.

She hands me the booklet before hopping off at Glenwood Springs. I find that she’s ticked the yes box for amendment 48.

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Escaping from Sarah to Dinosaur, Colorado

October 25th, 2008

Dinosaur, Colorado.

Having heard that Sarah Palin was about to descend on Colorado after a week of poor ratings for the McCain Palin ticket, I decided I needed to run to a place where she would definitely not find me. Looking at the perfect rectangle that is Colorado, I chose the top left hand corner: a town called Dinosaur. (No, it is not named after John McCain.)

This town actually exists, I am serious. You can even have a ‘Cappasaurus’ (this town’s version of cappuccino) at the Bedrock Cafe on Brontosaurus boulevard. And one of the town’s 319 people should be there at the ‘welcome centre’ at the corner of Bronto and Stego to tell you about the attractions.

Local literature tells you that Dinosaur is an “excellent central location”. Right, as central as the middle of nowhere. This is why when they needed a mayor recently, they advertised the position in a paper in Grand Junction, which is four hours away. And why they stopped the bus service to here (from anywhere) about 10 years ago.

But with a little enterprise you can go down to nearby Vernal to look at dinosaur fossil bones found in the area; or visit the dinosaur national monument, a few miles east, where hidden in the folds of the Rockies is a magnificent canyon at the confluence of the Green and Yampa rivers.

What you cannot do, is escape Sarah Palin. I have chosen an unfortunate date for my attempted escape: her constituents are all over the place. Not because she’s in the area–but because it’s the beginning of the hunting season.

Their pick-up trucks whizz along Highway 40, the hoofs of some unfortunate elk or deer sticking out. At the gas stations or at drive by restaurants there’s the smell of coagulated blood. Big signs say: ‘Hunters welcome.’

A chunk of Colorado’s votes will be decided on who’s the better president for hunters, and they could be critical because it is a solidly republican state lurching leftwards.\

But here in Dinosaur, this is a no-contest, of course. It is a an area where the McCain-Palin ticket has all the experience, judgment and whatever ammunition is required. Palin likes shooting bears and wolves–specially from helicopters.

Two young men pull their truck into the lot of the Terrace Motel. A pair of beautiful horns stick out from the back of the truck and when it swings around you can see the animal. It’s blood, almost warm, leaching through its slashed stomach onto the floor.

The boys jump off beaming. Their names are Landon and Josh, from Craig (the elk-hunting capital of the world, a few hours east of Dinosaur). Landon’s the one who ‘got him’.

“We couldn’t find any elk, so we started coming down and we saw about 15 bucks. So we jumped out and shot him…(with his Roberts 257 at 250 yards).

“I shot him in the shoulder. He started moving, and we got up on a little cliff and we saw him lay down and we couldn’t shoot him again… he was too far away. And then he ran off and we tracked him down some more for about two miles… he wouldn;t go down.. and then shot him in the spine. Then we went up on him and he was still alive so we shot him one more time thinking that he was going to die. Then I shot him in the neck.

“And then, that was pretty much about it.

Landon has what is called a “resident youth deer tag”, which authorises a ‘discount hunt’ if you will. For $10.75, instead of the regular $45, you get to hunt a deer a season. The blue tag is now around the buck’s left ear. Josh, his hands blood-stained from hauling the thing, plays with it, and then turns his attention to fiddling around with the dead animals mouth, prizing it open with his fingers as if checking its dental health.

The meat, they will eat: about 75 pounds of steaks and burgers that should last the winter. Not bad for less than 11 bucks.

After severing the head (’just about there’ says Josh, pointing to the base of the neck) they will boil the skull and mount it. The fur will be given away to make rugs. The bones (’they’re no good”) will be thrown away.

Oh yes, one other thing, towns like Craig and Dinosaur will vote McCain-Palin. They think that the deer and elk population is getting out of hand, causing road accidents; they enjoy their cheap meat. They are patriotic Americans who love the legal, justifiable use of guns. (I am merely talking about hunting, not the war in Iraq). The candidates agree.

The buck is now driven off to the processing plant, perhaps in Maybell. Its wounds are drying up in the Colorado sun–it can’t feel them anyway. On its ear, is the fatal blue bling accessory of season. It’s eyes are open, though.

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What the ‘red hatters’ are thinking

October 16th, 2008

Dayton, Tennessee

The Red Hatters vote for joy, and this time around joy is the McCain-Palin ticket

The Red Hatters vote for joy, and this time around joy is the McCain-Palin ticket

“I’m a red hatter”, says Mrs Karen Black, talking about a constituency that I had not heard of as we sip sweet tea in the Dayton coffee house. Then she explains.

“There is a poem that says ‘When I grow old I shall wear purple/ With red hats that do not match and do not go/ I’ll learn to spit on the sidewalk and send the grocery money for brandy/ And tell the family that we have no money for butter..’ And the poem goes on, all these things that we’re never allowed to do as proper ladies. And then at the end it says, ’so that my family won’t be too surprised, I think I’ll start practicing now.’

“And so–and you will see this throughout the United States–there are gatherings of ladies fifty and older, who, regardless of what life has thrown at them, whether it’s widowhood, cancer, loss of a child… Regardless of what life has done to them, they choose joy. The red hatters are all about choosing joy. And you will see them with feathers and glitters and red hats and purple outfits.”

Mrs Black is 58, she is wearing a green floral outfit, without any sort of hat, but I have no reason to believe she is not a red hatter. She has the primary requirements to be one: in this election, choosing joy, would mean going with the McCain Palin ticket; she’s also a good Christian.

I ask her what denomination she belongs to and she laughs and says: “I’m a ‘methabaptapristacostal’… just a Christain. Then, assuming the air of someone who’s about to say something really important. She looks me in the eye and says: “The main things are the plain things.”

She begins counting the main things on her fingers: “Was He born of a virgin; was He crucified; did He die; was He raised from the dead; has He ascended to the right hand of the father… the main things are the plaayne things. And you can put any label you want to put on it, but the main things are the plain things. And they are true. They are true.”

Faced with these profound, and totally sincere beliefs, I can’t help turn the conversation towards other countries and other faiths. We begin in Iraq, where it’s difficult to tell either main or plain.

Mrs Black pauses a bit to take in the question. “I think about the bigger picture, I think that politicians will come and go and do whatever it is that they have to do. I think the truth is that God is in control. And the truth is that this is going to play out how He wants it to play out.”

She continues: “Things that are meant for evil, God has a way of turning them into good in the bigger picture that we don’t even see. I do know that the end-time war, Armageddon in Revelation, is going to be somewhere in the east. Somewhere, Iraq, Iran… somewhere there. I think it’s a fool’s game not to keep that firmly in mind.”

Right there, I thought, in succinct, easy language, was Bush’s foreign policy. Had Mrs Black ghost-written it?

But what about good young American kids going out there and dying, I ask.

“Good young American kids died for the revolution. Good young American kids died in World War 1, for World War 2, for Vietnam. Do I like good young American kids going to die? Absolutely not.”

Wouldn’t you want to stop the war right now?

“All wars. ‘The-o-ret-ically.” She draws the word out deliberately. “In a perfect world… that would be wonderful.

“In a perfect world, there would be no sorrow. In a perfect world we wouldn’t have people trying to come over and kill us. In a perfect world we wouldn’t have to have a bigger stick than the other guy to make them… behave. In a perfect world…”

She was clearly not ghost-writing Dubya’s speeches: they had nothing of the lyrical quality of her extempore.

“People have died for the rights that we have. To go to the churches we go to–or not. To pray when and where we choose… people have died for these rights that we have to make this country what it is.

“We have more a sense of ‘I appreciate that’ and clearly the rest of the world thinks that because they’re pouring in our shores legally and illegally by the millions. Clearly, other people think, ‘we see that, we like that, we want a piece of that’. We think that’s good. And our boys think that’s worth dying for. And the mothers send them off… To die for it.”

Two teardrops roll down Mrs Black’s pink cheek as she says this. She looks away, her lips quivering. I ask if I’ve upset her.

“No, no, no, no, no! Honey I’m southern, we cry as easy as we laugh. We’ll probably hug when we’re through” she says, wiping her tears.

“I was saying that if a ship is moving then God can turn the rudder change the direction of the ship, but if it’s just sitting there stagnant then ain’t nothing gonna happen. So we’re moving, and if we’ve made mistakes, then God can alter and change them. Whether its through who gets in office or whatever he uses.

“Yes I vote–but I also pray.”

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