The election of Barack Obama was a statement of persona. It was an unmistakable testament to the power of individual personality in American culture. In an era of economic crisis, war, and extreme ideological difference, voters selected a character, NOT a platform.
I spent two weeks canvassing (without pay) for the Obama campaign, not simply because I wanted to support his cause, but because I wanted to find out what people thought about him-that is, people other than Bill O’Reilly and Keith Olberman. I walked the streets of my small town like a Jehovah’s Witness, knocking on doors of liberals and conservatives alike. I spoke to young and old, males and females, affluent and cracked-out. Only one thing remained constant in my conversations: People did not mention issues.
One elderly woman I spoke to, whom I immediately identified as a life-long Democrat by the assortment of JFK portraits and crucifixes spanning her living room walls, told me that she considered Obama the greatest hope for America since Franklin Delano Roosevelt. When I asked her if she had any questions on policy issues, she informed me that issues are "for the birds," that the only thing that matters in a president is his ability to negotiate, an ability she passionately believed that Obama possessed.
I came across another Obama supporter on the sidewalk. He was a young man, likely in his mid-twenties, with long, wiry hair and broken glasses. He was not a registered voter, nor was he on my official list of "targets" for the day, but I struck up conversation anyway. He immediately and emphatically let me know that he was a racist, but that John McCain seemed "crazy and old," traits which scared him on a personal level even more than the thought of a black president. When I asked him what he thought about the war in Iraq, he responded that he didn’t care about it as long as combat remained "over in the desert." Other common reasons for Obama support included, "My union told me to vote for him" and "I like his smile."
But personal characteristics were not only reserved for supporters. The majority of anti-Obama sentiment I received also had little to do with policy.
One man literally chased me down the street as soon as I identified myself as a volunteer for the Obama/Biden ticket. In crude terms, he questioned my sexuality, my intelligence, and blasted an array of racial slurs in my direction as he drove me through his garden of POW-MIA flags and away from his property. I did not, however, hear him mention anything about foreign policy or economic bailout in the course of his tirade. I would later realize, after a quick check of my list, that I had the wrong address in the first place. Oops.
Another man said that he feared that Obama could be the Antichrist. He cited the book of Revelation as his primary voting prompt. In his mind, Obama’s popularity in the midst of dismal world affairs was a sure sign of the oncoming Rapture. He advised me to beware of the future and to pray regularly before we parted ways.
For more information regarding Obama’s role in the End of Days, you can follow this link: http://www.newsweek.com/id/169192
My sample may be relatively small, but I have seen overwhelming evidence that postmodern America has returned the executive branch to its original status as an office of men (and now, women) with Barack Obama playing the lead role. This notion may be supported in the coming weeks as the cabinet is assembled, particularly if key Republicans land top offices. For now, however, there remains hope that party politics may finally be set aside in favor of old-fashioned American reason.
Don't hold your breath,
Mr. Cleveland
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Cars, Man
Unless you have locked yourself in an opium den for the past few days, you probably know that a lame duck congressional session is currently hearing testimony from the heads of Ford, Chrysler, General Motors and the United Auto Workers union over the necessity of a government bailout to save their sorry asses. These fat cats are discussing the causes of their failure, the possible effects of said failure, and ways to use their public money should they get it. Watching these men wiggle while being grilled by the House is so pathetic that it almost makes me feel sorry for them…but not quite.
Rescuing this particular bunch of billionaires, unlike the bankers earlier this fall, would be money well wasted. I think the government would be better off giving me a few billion to use as bung fodder during a camping trip than handing it over to the fools sitting on Capitol Hill this week. They have run a proud sector of Americana into the ground, and still have no idea what went wrong. The last thing these men need is a handout.
The company men blame the industry’s failure on labor fees, sub par financing options, and the overwhelming costs of restructuring products to fit the modern economy. The union gripes about job loss and all of the fun things that go along with it. I say they just suck at business.
It is true that union wages are expensive. It is no big secret that our financial sector has all but completely shit the bed in the past year, which has made it more difficult for people to get car loans. And I would assume that redirecting a multi-billion dollar product line would, in fact, hinder profit. But they don’t seem to be crying these tears in Japan.
Over the course of the past decade, Japanese auto makers have put a serious beat down on their American counterparts. Toyota, Suzuki, and Honda have been particularly successful. The key to their victory is obvious: They make better cars! The Toyota Prius, for example, has been kicking ass on the market for years. It is a hybrid with top-of-the-line safety ratings which gets about 45 miles per gallon on the average highway trip. Compare this to similar American models and you’ll find that…well…THERE AREN’T ANY!
I am not an economist, nor do I aspire to be, but I would suspect that rising gas prices (remember last summer?) would lead to an increase in demand for fuel efficient vehicles. If fuel efficiency has been a priority in Japan for over a decade, they are bound to have gotten good at making good cars that are easy on gas. America’s big answer has been to pump out pieces of crap like the Chevy Aveo, which feels like a soup can, looks like a nipple, and rides like a Huffy. Oh, yeah, and the Aveo is not a hybrid.
As sympathetic as I am to labor unions, the UAW seems to be S.O.L. on this one. Job loss in the auto industry began decades ago. Take a drive through Gary, Indiana and you will see what I mean. The entire Great Lakes region (in which I was born and raised) has become a stain on the world-poverty blanketed by smog as far as the eye can see.
What’s that? You wonder how it reached this point? Well, in part because industry is disgusting and was largely unregulated for the better part of a century. And you, Mr. UAW, have done little to help any cause aside from higher wages for button pushers on an assembly line. If you want to see real work, talk to an illegal immigrant. They’d be happy to trade places. Or perhaps a non-union factory worker who you have continually dumped on with your own candor would be a good moral mentor. Campaign for the environment, give to education; hell, you could even lay down some cash for your own company to make green vehicles! Until you sacrifice a little of yourself, stop expecting others to do the same for you. And if you’re that down and out, Mr. Union, Toyota is hiring.
I say enough is enough! The only thing more disgusting than laissez-faire economic policy is hit-and-miss socialism. To hell with these chumps, it's 2008. If the economy collapses, so be it! I’ll hop a train and hold my own.
Sit on that,
Mr. Cleveland
Rescuing this particular bunch of billionaires, unlike the bankers earlier this fall, would be money well wasted. I think the government would be better off giving me a few billion to use as bung fodder during a camping trip than handing it over to the fools sitting on Capitol Hill this week. They have run a proud sector of Americana into the ground, and still have no idea what went wrong. The last thing these men need is a handout.
The company men blame the industry’s failure on labor fees, sub par financing options, and the overwhelming costs of restructuring products to fit the modern economy. The union gripes about job loss and all of the fun things that go along with it. I say they just suck at business.
It is true that union wages are expensive. It is no big secret that our financial sector has all but completely shit the bed in the past year, which has made it more difficult for people to get car loans. And I would assume that redirecting a multi-billion dollar product line would, in fact, hinder profit. But they don’t seem to be crying these tears in Japan.
Over the course of the past decade, Japanese auto makers have put a serious beat down on their American counterparts. Toyota, Suzuki, and Honda have been particularly successful. The key to their victory is obvious: They make better cars! The Toyota Prius, for example, has been kicking ass on the market for years. It is a hybrid with top-of-the-line safety ratings which gets about 45 miles per gallon on the average highway trip. Compare this to similar American models and you’ll find that…well…THERE AREN’T ANY!
I am not an economist, nor do I aspire to be, but I would suspect that rising gas prices (remember last summer?) would lead to an increase in demand for fuel efficient vehicles. If fuel efficiency has been a priority in Japan for over a decade, they are bound to have gotten good at making good cars that are easy on gas. America’s big answer has been to pump out pieces of crap like the Chevy Aveo, which feels like a soup can, looks like a nipple, and rides like a Huffy. Oh, yeah, and the Aveo is not a hybrid.
As sympathetic as I am to labor unions, the UAW seems to be S.O.L. on this one. Job loss in the auto industry began decades ago. Take a drive through Gary, Indiana and you will see what I mean. The entire Great Lakes region (in which I was born and raised) has become a stain on the world-poverty blanketed by smog as far as the eye can see.
What’s that? You wonder how it reached this point? Well, in part because industry is disgusting and was largely unregulated for the better part of a century. And you, Mr. UAW, have done little to help any cause aside from higher wages for button pushers on an assembly line. If you want to see real work, talk to an illegal immigrant. They’d be happy to trade places. Or perhaps a non-union factory worker who you have continually dumped on with your own candor would be a good moral mentor. Campaign for the environment, give to education; hell, you could even lay down some cash for your own company to make green vehicles! Until you sacrifice a little of yourself, stop expecting others to do the same for you. And if you’re that down and out, Mr. Union, Toyota is hiring.
I say enough is enough! The only thing more disgusting than laissez-faire economic policy is hit-and-miss socialism. To hell with these chumps, it's 2008. If the economy collapses, so be it! I’ll hop a train and hold my own.
Sit on that,
Mr. Cleveland
Sunday, November 16, 2008
What I Look For In A President
I remember watching Richard Nixon's funeral on television as a child. It seemed beautiful, noble, honorable. American flags waved, women cried, and everybody seemed to be wearing the same suit (quite a flashy ensemble, i might add). An enormous procession surrounded the president's remains as it moved slowly down Pennsylvania Avenue. As I recall, the sun was shining.
Eventually the motorcade came to a stop. Suits piled out of every vehicle and assembled, shoulder-to-shoulder, along the side of the road. A group of marines emerged from the crowd, walking like tin men in the direction of an enormous American flag. They raised their rifles and fired their twenty-one shots into the air. The sun continued to shine.
My mother entered the room with a chuckle. "Nixon. He was an asshole," she said, and handed me a snack. I was dumbfounded. I could not comprehend that an asshole could receive such a hero's finale.
A few years later I spoke to my grandfather shortly after an election. In school I had learned that Bill Clinton was the President of the United States, and he seemed like a nice guy.
"Granddad, who did you vote for?" I asked.
"Mickey Mouse," he replied. "I have written-in Mickey Mouse since the '70s, since that asshole Nixon," he said.
That, I must admit, is admirable. This guy must have been a real piece of work, I thought.
As I got older, went to college, and researched this asshole for myself, I learned some interesting things. I found that Nixon was the first American leader to establish diplomatic relations with China (a relationship which comes in handy these days). I read about how he initiated environmental regulation in industry. I learned of his extreme mistrust of Jews, his impish personality, his perpetual five o'clock shadow. I heard that he had grown up a mama's boy and learned to drink, swear, and gamble in the military during World War II.
I chuckled to myself when I listened to his oval office recordings, listening him constantly rant about everything. I burst out in an obnoxious fit of laughter when I heard that he had been sold out on Watergate by a man with the code name Deep Throat. I actually felt a bit of pity when I realized what a confused, paranoid man he truly was. And I was enraged to find that this right-wing prick was elected largely by drugged-up hippies who saw nothing more in him than an anti-war platform (a platform that did not come to fruition until after he was forced to resign from office after having served an entire term).
Richard Nixon has been ingrained upon my mind as the embodiment of the U.S. Presidency. As Hunter Thompson once said, "Nixon was the kind of guy who could shake your hand and stab you in the back at the same time." He was a power-hungry little rambler, a creature from hell with a nice suit. He was a bitter little boy who grew up to rule the world, only to crank himself back down to obscurity with a stupid little scheme pulled off in a cheesy hotel.
I have come to believe that he was, in fact, an asshole.
But if the business of America is business, who better to serve as hand-shaker than an asshole? Who better to lead the free world than an imp with a chip on his shoulder? In my mind, nobody embodies the spirit of American politics better than Richard M. Nixon...nobody.
Chew before you swallow,
Mr. Cleveland
Eventually the motorcade came to a stop. Suits piled out of every vehicle and assembled, shoulder-to-shoulder, along the side of the road. A group of marines emerged from the crowd, walking like tin men in the direction of an enormous American flag. They raised their rifles and fired their twenty-one shots into the air. The sun continued to shine.
My mother entered the room with a chuckle. "Nixon. He was an asshole," she said, and handed me a snack. I was dumbfounded. I could not comprehend that an asshole could receive such a hero's finale.
A few years later I spoke to my grandfather shortly after an election. In school I had learned that Bill Clinton was the President of the United States, and he seemed like a nice guy.
"Granddad, who did you vote for?" I asked.
"Mickey Mouse," he replied. "I have written-in Mickey Mouse since the '70s, since that asshole Nixon," he said.
That, I must admit, is admirable. This guy must have been a real piece of work, I thought.
As I got older, went to college, and researched this asshole for myself, I learned some interesting things. I found that Nixon was the first American leader to establish diplomatic relations with China (a relationship which comes in handy these days). I read about how he initiated environmental regulation in industry. I learned of his extreme mistrust of Jews, his impish personality, his perpetual five o'clock shadow. I heard that he had grown up a mama's boy and learned to drink, swear, and gamble in the military during World War II.
I chuckled to myself when I listened to his oval office recordings, listening him constantly rant about everything. I burst out in an obnoxious fit of laughter when I heard that he had been sold out on Watergate by a man with the code name Deep Throat. I actually felt a bit of pity when I realized what a confused, paranoid man he truly was. And I was enraged to find that this right-wing prick was elected largely by drugged-up hippies who saw nothing more in him than an anti-war platform (a platform that did not come to fruition until after he was forced to resign from office after having served an entire term).
Richard Nixon has been ingrained upon my mind as the embodiment of the U.S. Presidency. As Hunter Thompson once said, "Nixon was the kind of guy who could shake your hand and stab you in the back at the same time." He was a power-hungry little rambler, a creature from hell with a nice suit. He was a bitter little boy who grew up to rule the world, only to crank himself back down to obscurity with a stupid little scheme pulled off in a cheesy hotel.
I have come to believe that he was, in fact, an asshole.
But if the business of America is business, who better to serve as hand-shaker than an asshole? Who better to lead the free world than an imp with a chip on his shoulder? In my mind, nobody embodies the spirit of American politics better than Richard M. Nixon...nobody.
Chew before you swallow,
Mr. Cleveland
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