Hillary Clinton searches for a good Donald Trump stand-in as she prepares for the debate. Some top candidates could be...
1) Zach Galifianakis-- a true surrealist, with an unbridled id, like Trump. Hillary appeared on his cable show "Between Two Ferns" and appeared pretty flummoxed by Zach's line of questioning. Maybe they should work together some more.
2) Alec Baldwin-- narcissistic like Trump and self-important. Baldwin, from Long Island, understands the New York attitude.
3) Mark Cuban-- Alec Baldwin with more money. Trump is sensitive to Cuban's accusations that the Trump is not a real billionaire.
4) Stephen Colbert-- Colbert has the right-wing persona down pat. He stared down Bill O'Reilly and never flinched. Apparently, Stephen Colbert unearthed the actually role-player, a Hillary aide named Philippe Reines, (see below)
5) Chris Rock-- not sure why, but Rock might get Hillary to smile and she needs to do that. He could prod Hillary on the subject of racism and Hillary could use that same technique on the Donald.
Ah, what the hell-- let's take a reach and add #6.
6) Nancy Grace (in drag)-- Nancy is no-holds barred, no slave to objectivity. She could just move her healthy head of hair around to capture the Trump orange-hued chignon.
"Philippe Reines, a longtime aide to Hillary Clinton and one of the most astute observers of her personal and political vulnerabilities, is playing Donald J. Trump in her mock debate sessions, according to people familiar with Mr. Reines’s involvement." (New York Times, Sept. 23)
Reines may be an expert on Hillary's vulnerabilities but already he sounds way too smart and bookish. He's been on Hillary's payroll. Employees defer to their bosses, understandably, and hopefully this does not inhibit Reines during their mock debates.
Trump claims not to be preparing-- but who would he pick as a stand-in for Hillary Clinton? She's a bit schoolmarmish, maybe more like the school principal. He could look to Melissa McCarthy, actually she's got the id for a Trump stand-in. Elizabeth Warren has potential but wouldn't take the job. Rosie O'Donnell? Fuhgedaboutit...
Friday, September 23, 2016
Friday, September 9, 2016
Climate Change Initiatives-- building an Ark in the 21st Century
Dear Friend,
Thanks for the link to New York Magazine article on rising waters. I like the insights about people's resistance to imagining the unpleasant. I've noticed how much we deny the obvious in these matters.
I mentioned to you that FEMA gave home owners on Long Island with waterfront property lots of money to lift their houses after the destruction caused by Super Storm Sandy. Some homeowners raised their homes to weird heights-- and then found some difficulty in reselling their houses. I'm sure it was a boon to the construction industry to fix up and build new houses along the shoreline and on the canals.
And in Manhattan I notice that the apartment on West End Ave is in close proximity to the Hudson River on the west. The east-west thoroughfare, West 79th St, takes a big rise as the land moves from Riverside Park up into central Manhattan. So I guess Riverside Park would be underwater before West End Ave. Maybe we would have riverfront property-- though our apartment faces away from the river.
I've never really been able to get my head around the rise in ocean levels. I'm a big believer in the validity of most climate change warnings. I guess water level rise is something we can actually do something about-- move further inland.
The stuff that I wonder most about it are the changes in rainfall, temperature etc. that I experience more directly. Just watched a video clip on NY Times website, an interview of Obama. He points out that Chinese leaders were most motivated to cooperate on Climate Change Initiatives-- due to their concerns about the political stability of their nation. If it gets much harder to breath in Beijing you could have a riot on your hands-- or something along those lines is how I pictured it. Maybe I'm way off base-- and their afraid of food riots or something else?
Thanks for sending the New York Magazine article-- better to discuss it than put our heads back in the sand.
Thanks,
John
Thanks for the link to New York Magazine article on rising waters. I like the insights about people's resistance to imagining the unpleasant. I've noticed how much we deny the obvious in these matters.
I mentioned to you that FEMA gave home owners on Long Island with waterfront property lots of money to lift their houses after the destruction caused by Super Storm Sandy. Some homeowners raised their homes to weird heights-- and then found some difficulty in reselling their houses. I'm sure it was a boon to the construction industry to fix up and build new houses along the shoreline and on the canals.
And in Manhattan I notice that the apartment on West End Ave is in close proximity to the Hudson River on the west. The east-west thoroughfare, West 79th St, takes a big rise as the land moves from Riverside Park up into central Manhattan. So I guess Riverside Park would be underwater before West End Ave. Maybe we would have riverfront property-- though our apartment faces away from the river.
I've never really been able to get my head around the rise in ocean levels. I'm a big believer in the validity of most climate change warnings. I guess water level rise is something we can actually do something about-- move further inland.
The stuff that I wonder most about it are the changes in rainfall, temperature etc. that I experience more directly. Just watched a video clip on NY Times website, an interview of Obama. He points out that Chinese leaders were most motivated to cooperate on Climate Change Initiatives-- due to their concerns about the political stability of their nation. If it gets much harder to breath in Beijing you could have a riot on your hands-- or something along those lines is how I pictured it. Maybe I'm way off base-- and their afraid of food riots or something else?
Thanks for sending the New York Magazine article-- better to discuss it than put our heads back in the sand.
Thanks,
John
Sunday, September 4, 2016
Texas Football Fervor and the Pigskin Shrine
A friend of mine taught me some of the fundamentals of American football, the kind with tackling and blocking. American football is played with an oblong ball made of pigskin. The game was designed for cool weather, a fall or autumn sport. Texas has almost no fall or autumn weather and games are often played in 90-100 degree heat, especially in the first half of the season from Sept-Oct.
Most mysterious is the cult-like fascination with the sport. People in Texas or should I say... many Texans love the game. And Americans from coast-to-coast love the game.
Interestingly, football is such a violent game most people prefer watching the game, talking about the game, analyzing the game, its players and coaches and strategies, far more than they like playing the game. Football, most would agree, hurts to play. Playing and getting hurt or injured are not two activities we usually place side-by-side. Injury reports are a big part of football. They talk about players recovering or "getting healthy" but these are young men in their physical prime. They were already "healthy" until they played in a football game. They don't miss games because of illness-- a cold, flu, or pneumonia. They miss games because of orthopedic injury-- serious blows to the head, limbs, knees, neck, shoulders, etc. etc. So why do people love the game so much?
Perhaps there is the primitive appeal of big, strong man running into each other with unbelievable force? That is probably an over-simplification. The intellectual side of football is significant. Coaches, like good CEOs, must assemble a large number of players, at least 22 athletes getting starting roles in the game-- and many more than that when you add special teams players-- like kickers, receivers, etc.. The coaches use complicated plays to add to their teams effectiveness. The game has moved to a lightning pace-- and teams communicate plays from the sidelines in a matter of seconds. The slower team is often the losing team.
Marshall McLuhan, my favorite media philosopher, correctly predicted football would supersede baseball as the national pastime. McLuhan recognized that football had multiple activities occurring simultaneously-- and all of them could be nicely sorted out by the television cameras. The plays are slowed down and analyzed during instant replays. The replay for the national viewing audience involves the audience in the game for a great, in-depth experience. Baseball, McLuhan said, was too linear-- the game moves forward only based on the batter hitting the ball and does not reflect the all-at-onceness of modern communications.
Do we love football for its multi-tasking intensity? For its photogenic nature on the moving images of the TV screen? Those going to the stadium celebrate with tailgating-- cooking big slabs of meat, like ancient tribesmen celebrating the kill of an animal by the tribe's hunters. The sweet smells of cooked meat waft from the parking lots and open areas as you approach the stadium. You cannot help but feel the primal appeal. The crowd's emotions surge forward and rise from the stadium-- a roar of excitement like nothing you've ever heard before. And it all happens in the fall days, the summer harvest has passed, the crops collected, and celebration is in order.
Most mysterious is the cult-like fascination with the sport. People in Texas or should I say... many Texans love the game. And Americans from coast-to-coast love the game.
Interestingly, football is such a violent game most people prefer watching the game, talking about the game, analyzing the game, its players and coaches and strategies, far more than they like playing the game. Football, most would agree, hurts to play. Playing and getting hurt or injured are not two activities we usually place side-by-side. Injury reports are a big part of football. They talk about players recovering or "getting healthy" but these are young men in their physical prime. They were already "healthy" until they played in a football game. They don't miss games because of illness-- a cold, flu, or pneumonia. They miss games because of orthopedic injury-- serious blows to the head, limbs, knees, neck, shoulders, etc. etc. So why do people love the game so much?
Perhaps there is the primitive appeal of big, strong man running into each other with unbelievable force? That is probably an over-simplification. The intellectual side of football is significant. Coaches, like good CEOs, must assemble a large number of players, at least 22 athletes getting starting roles in the game-- and many more than that when you add special teams players-- like kickers, receivers, etc.. The coaches use complicated plays to add to their teams effectiveness. The game has moved to a lightning pace-- and teams communicate plays from the sidelines in a matter of seconds. The slower team is often the losing team.
Marshall McLuhan, my favorite media philosopher, correctly predicted football would supersede baseball as the national pastime. McLuhan recognized that football had multiple activities occurring simultaneously-- and all of them could be nicely sorted out by the television cameras. The plays are slowed down and analyzed during instant replays. The replay for the national viewing audience involves the audience in the game for a great, in-depth experience. Baseball, McLuhan said, was too linear-- the game moves forward only based on the batter hitting the ball and does not reflect the all-at-onceness of modern communications.
Do we love football for its multi-tasking intensity? For its photogenic nature on the moving images of the TV screen? Those going to the stadium celebrate with tailgating-- cooking big slabs of meat, like ancient tribesmen celebrating the kill of an animal by the tribe's hunters. The sweet smells of cooked meat waft from the parking lots and open areas as you approach the stadium. You cannot help but feel the primal appeal. The crowd's emotions surge forward and rise from the stadium-- a roar of excitement like nothing you've ever heard before. And it all happens in the fall days, the summer harvest has passed, the crops collected, and celebration is in order.
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
Wayne Dyer and and the Sunny Side of the Street
"Pollyanna is a best-selling 1913 novel by Eleanor H. Porter that is now considered a classic of children's literature, with the title character's name becoming a popular term for someone with the same very optimistic outlook." A Pollyanna is "characterised by irrepressible optimism evident in the face of even the most adverse or discouraging of circumstances. It is sometimes used pejoratively, referring to someone whose optimism is excessive to the point of naïveté."
(Took these quotes from Wikipedia.)
My father described me as a Pollyanna when I was a kid. I admit he had me pegged correctly.I have the personality traits of a Pollyanna especially in group situations where I can easily become a cheerleader for the success of others. When it comes to my own pursuits, I can get lost in depression, sink down, lose focus and give up the struggle.
Wayne Dyer, the self-help guru, had Pollyanna-style personality traits. I listened to one of Dyer's video presentations and he described his experiences growing up in an orphanage. He was the kid that helped the other children deal with the challenges of being in an orphanage. He welcomed the new arrivals to the orphanage, assuring the new kids it was a great place to be.
Dyer passed away in 2015, at 75 years of age. He was diagnosed with leukemia in 2009. His health issues suggest the Pollyanna personality may conceal a great sadness beneath the cheerful veneer. Did Wayne Dyer cover his pain with an elaborate system of defenses?
Wayne Dyer used a Pollyanna-like optimism to deal with a very difficult set of circumstances early in life. He generously contributed to the happiness of others with his ideas and insights-- always eager to assist the newbies. We can only imagine what darkness he wrestled with in his youth as he struggled to stay on the sunny side of the street.
On The Sunny Side Of The Street
(Louis Armstrong recorded the song in 1933)
Grab your hat and get your coat
Leave your worries on the doorstep
Life can be so sweet
On the sunny side of the street
(Took these quotes from Wikipedia.)
My father described me as a Pollyanna when I was a kid. I admit he had me pegged correctly.I have the personality traits of a Pollyanna especially in group situations where I can easily become a cheerleader for the success of others. When it comes to my own pursuits, I can get lost in depression, sink down, lose focus and give up the struggle.
Wayne Dyer, the self-help guru, had Pollyanna-style personality traits. I listened to one of Dyer's video presentations and he described his experiences growing up in an orphanage. He was the kid that helped the other children deal with the challenges of being in an orphanage. He welcomed the new arrivals to the orphanage, assuring the new kids it was a great place to be.
Dyer passed away in 2015, at 75 years of age. He was diagnosed with leukemia in 2009. His health issues suggest the Pollyanna personality may conceal a great sadness beneath the cheerful veneer. Did Wayne Dyer cover his pain with an elaborate system of defenses?
Wayne Dyer used a Pollyanna-like optimism to deal with a very difficult set of circumstances early in life. He generously contributed to the happiness of others with his ideas and insights-- always eager to assist the newbies. We can only imagine what darkness he wrestled with in his youth as he struggled to stay on the sunny side of the street.
On The Sunny Side Of The Street
(Louis Armstrong recorded the song in 1933)
Grab your hat and get your coat
Leave your worries on the doorstep
Life can be so sweet
On the sunny side of the street
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
LeBron James: America's Bravest Politician
LeBron James, 31 years old, a 6 ft 8 in basketball superstar for the Cleveland Cavaliers, may just be the bravest politician on the American landscape.
LeBron James began his career as a Cleveland Cavalier but departed the team with the goal of increasing his chances of winning a NBA championship. He famously conspired with Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh to sign with the Miami Heat. LeBron James, Wade and Bosh won several NBA titles (2011-2013) with the Miami Heat but the success never completely silenced the critics.
LeBron James then made a gutsy, selfless decision-- he would return to Cleveland with the goal to win a NBA championship for a city that had not seen a championship since the Cleveland Browns won the NFL championship in 1964. Seems like James wanted to bring a measure of joy and pride back to his home state of Ohio!
LeBron paid a price for his quixotic goal. The pressure he felt surfaced when tears rolled down his face a few nights ago, the 7th game won and the championship earned.
How many politicians have put their career on the line to achieve such an daring goal-- one with stakes so high and chances for success so unlikely? Don't underestimate the odds against success. Just a few weeks ago... the Golden State Warriors seemed to be a dynasty, a juggernaut of superstar players. The Warriors had just completed a record-breaking season of 73 wins.
LeBron James made an audacious choice when be bet on himself and the city of Cleveland. Those of us of a certain age.... recall quarterback Joe Willie Namath's guarantee of a Super Bowl victory for the New York Jets of the upstart American Football League. LeBron never guaranteed a NBA title-- because such a guarantee would have been shaky at best. His achievement surpasses Namath and the Jets-- bringing to an underdog city, not just an underdog team.
Here's to King James or maybe President James or Senator James... a political leader in an era when sports/entertainment/politics all blend to a single entity. A politician is supposed to represent and support a geo-political entity-- like the state of Ohio. LeBron James raised the morale of a city and entire state. Sure he achieved his goal by using basketball talent and willpower but he achieved something akin to a political victory for his constituents.
Kanye West, a music talent, joked about a plan on running for president-- but when did Kanye do something for somebody else? LeBron James should be the one to consider politics as his Plan B career.
LeBron James began his career as a Cleveland Cavalier but departed the team with the goal of increasing his chances of winning a NBA championship. He famously conspired with Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh to sign with the Miami Heat. LeBron James, Wade and Bosh won several NBA titles (2011-2013) with the Miami Heat but the success never completely silenced the critics.
LeBron James then made a gutsy, selfless decision-- he would return to Cleveland with the goal to win a NBA championship for a city that had not seen a championship since the Cleveland Browns won the NFL championship in 1964. Seems like James wanted to bring a measure of joy and pride back to his home state of Ohio!
LeBron paid a price for his quixotic goal. The pressure he felt surfaced when tears rolled down his face a few nights ago, the 7th game won and the championship earned.
How many politicians have put their career on the line to achieve such an daring goal-- one with stakes so high and chances for success so unlikely? Don't underestimate the odds against success. Just a few weeks ago... the Golden State Warriors seemed to be a dynasty, a juggernaut of superstar players. The Warriors had just completed a record-breaking season of 73 wins.
LeBron James made an audacious choice when be bet on himself and the city of Cleveland. Those of us of a certain age.... recall quarterback Joe Willie Namath's guarantee of a Super Bowl victory for the New York Jets of the upstart American Football League. LeBron never guaranteed a NBA title-- because such a guarantee would have been shaky at best. His achievement surpasses Namath and the Jets-- bringing to an underdog city, not just an underdog team.
Here's to King James or maybe President James or Senator James... a political leader in an era when sports/entertainment/politics all blend to a single entity. A politician is supposed to represent and support a geo-political entity-- like the state of Ohio. LeBron James raised the morale of a city and entire state. Sure he achieved his goal by using basketball talent and willpower but he achieved something akin to a political victory for his constituents.
Kanye West, a music talent, joked about a plan on running for president-- but when did Kanye do something for somebody else? LeBron James should be the one to consider politics as his Plan B career.
Friday, June 10, 2016
Janis Joplin and "Me and Bobby McGee"
We just watched a Netflix doc on Janis Joplin called Janis: Little Girl Blue. She was a Port Arthur resident. My wife went to high school with Janis's younger brother Mike and they were exactly 10 years younger than Janis. She died in 1970, soon after attending her 10th high school reunion in Port Arthur.
The film actually had interview footage of Janis Joplin at her 10th high school Reunion. That footage made me a bit sad. She seemed to struggle to get her ideas out, like she still felt shy even though she had fame that extended around the world. Kind of like she returned to the scene of the crime, her high school experiences, and really could not shake the feeling.
Interesting too that Paul Rothschild the producer who did "Me and Bobby McGee" with her had insights into her singing ability. He thought Janis had immense talent that maybe even she did not fully understand. I got the sense she could sing with phenomenal skill-- but the emotions were so strong they concealed her singing ability. Rothschild succeeded in opening her performance up with Bobby McGee-- and in that song there are more nuances of emotion than in her previous work. Apparently she was thrilled with the results.
The film actually had interview footage of Janis Joplin at her 10th high school Reunion. That footage made me a bit sad. She seemed to struggle to get her ideas out, like she still felt shy even though she had fame that extended around the world. Kind of like she returned to the scene of the crime, her high school experiences, and really could not shake the feeling.
Interesting too that Paul Rothschild the producer who did "Me and Bobby McGee" with her had insights into her singing ability. He thought Janis had immense talent that maybe even she did not fully understand. I got the sense she could sing with phenomenal skill-- but the emotions were so strong they concealed her singing ability. Rothschild succeeded in opening her performance up with Bobby McGee-- and in that song there are more nuances of emotion than in her previous work. Apparently she was thrilled with the results.
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Summer Nights in Queens, New York (1959)
My parents told me we were moving to a "middle class housing project" in Queens. I guess they were right. The Arverne Houses, a series of 6-story red brick buildings, stood between the Atlantic Ocean and Jamaica Bay. The jets out of Idlewild Airport, later to be named JFK, flew overhead with great frequency. The noise didn't bother me. Actually it felt like freedom and power. Our family left crowded Manhattan for Far Rockaway and began a new life in these wide open spaces. The smell of sea air lingered all around.
On summer nights the kids would all gather around a grassy area, demarcated by chain link fences. Our building, 353 Beach 54th St., loomed nearby. My parent could summon me by shouting from the window of apartment 3E. The windows had steel frames. The utilitarian apartment buildings were built to last and they continue to last to the present day.
The kids, almost 90% Jewish, along with a few Catholic families and a sprinkling of African-American kids, found summer nights a good time for staging mock track meets. We had the animal strength of youth. We would circle that grassy patch, an asymmetrical oval, running and competing for stamina more than speed. Who could make the circle 10 times? 20 times? 30 times? We would walk the tops of the chain link fences like tightrope walkers, just to burn off energy and impress each other.
Ten years old and the pre-pubescent hormones had started to kick in. Who was out to impress? Myra, maybe Myrna or maybe Tina, all crushes from my sixth grade class. My best friends were three Jewish kids, Ira, the son of a bartender, and Larry, an Orthodox kid, and Joey, whose father had a tattoo signifying his survival of the concentration camps in Germany. The memory lingers, burned into my consciousness, a sold pillar of youth. Finally we would retreat back to our apartments. This was our America, red bricks, egalitarian, full of crazy kids games like Ringolevio and Johnny-On-The-Pony. One big kid named Eisenberg could not be brought down in Ringolevio-- maybe a future fullback for Far Rockaway High School?
We broke into teams for Johnny-On-The-Pony and the pony was a fire hydrant. The goal, pile as many teammates as possible on top of each other with the fire hydrant as a center of gravity to support all of us.
Feels like a Jack Kerouac vision before I knew about On The Road or had much of an inkling of west of the Mississippi. The innocence of youth, a Fifties America. I loved everything-- Mickey Mantle, the United Nations and the Disney TV show on Sunday nights. My frontier land stood just outside the apartment building.
On summer nights the kids would all gather around a grassy area, demarcated by chain link fences. Our building, 353 Beach 54th St., loomed nearby. My parent could summon me by shouting from the window of apartment 3E. The windows had steel frames. The utilitarian apartment buildings were built to last and they continue to last to the present day.
The kids, almost 90% Jewish, along with a few Catholic families and a sprinkling of African-American kids, found summer nights a good time for staging mock track meets. We had the animal strength of youth. We would circle that grassy patch, an asymmetrical oval, running and competing for stamina more than speed. Who could make the circle 10 times? 20 times? 30 times? We would walk the tops of the chain link fences like tightrope walkers, just to burn off energy and impress each other.
Ten years old and the pre-pubescent hormones had started to kick in. Who was out to impress? Myra, maybe Myrna or maybe Tina, all crushes from my sixth grade class. My best friends were three Jewish kids, Ira, the son of a bartender, and Larry, an Orthodox kid, and Joey, whose father had a tattoo signifying his survival of the concentration camps in Germany. The memory lingers, burned into my consciousness, a sold pillar of youth. Finally we would retreat back to our apartments. This was our America, red bricks, egalitarian, full of crazy kids games like Ringolevio and Johnny-On-The-Pony. One big kid named Eisenberg could not be brought down in Ringolevio-- maybe a future fullback for Far Rockaway High School?
We broke into teams for Johnny-On-The-Pony and the pony was a fire hydrant. The goal, pile as many teammates as possible on top of each other with the fire hydrant as a center of gravity to support all of us.
Feels like a Jack Kerouac vision before I knew about On The Road or had much of an inkling of west of the Mississippi. The innocence of youth, a Fifties America. I loved everything-- Mickey Mantle, the United Nations and the Disney TV show on Sunday nights. My frontier land stood just outside the apartment building.
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