Can I get a "You betcha"?

The last thing I want is to turn this blog into a political outlet. The proliferation of poli-opinion is exactly why I hate getting on the internet. It's called Books, Basketball and Booty, not Policy, Pundits and Pussy. But this bubbling over of Sarah "I make W. look savvy and articulate" Palin is too infuriating. Her polemical proselytizing of non-ideas frustrates many to no end, but are very indicative of a vast swath of this country's angry, misinformed voters.

Apparently, her new "dis" of the Ominous Other is "law-professor-presidents." Of course this is definitively not an insult. In anyone's estimation it's a magnificent achievement. But not so to those self-congratulatory twits who see themselves as popu-lites, the creme-de-la-creme of Americanism. Their mistrust of those with a command of complex thought, engaging in complex policy would seem to suggest that Joe-the-fucker-next-door could execute as the Chief Executive with grand acumen. "Average" Americans swell with this ego-inflating idea. But it's not true, and those propagating that myth are cynical enough to encourage while having long before dismissed it completely. It's touchy-feely bullshit we've come to expect from our protectorate class. It's fun to sideline squawk how confusing national and international policy is, but is it really helpful at all to do by making millions of teary-eyed optimistic, not because of what is actually being accomplished, but because they imagine themselves dressing up as John Wayne President for a day? Of course, they do proclaim the Proustian benefits of tea-parties.

Being elite is not an insult. It wasn't in 1999, but one wouldn't realize that by the ever more incoherent madness of neo-McCarthyists. If you're so hell-bent that we should be governed by the people who share your social make-up why listen to New York Times best selling authors, pocket-lined television hosts, former CEOs? Certainly, (a very few) politicians rise from the middle class to become national figures that seems inspiring, but once there they become the elite. Sarah Palin and George Bush are no more down-home than the Ivy-leagued Obama. Less so, if anything (Bush takes the cake here: his family could topple the Kennedys in dynastic wealth and influence, not to mention Yale and Harvard, owning a MLB team and being CEO and Governor of the second largest state). The great American candidate's apparent success depends on a ratio of accent and how that accent flattens the meaning of their words.

Logical disconnect: These popu-lites rile up (or should I write, shore up) discontent over the bail-out package and increased spending while in a deficit. Admittedly, there's much to be criticized about these issues. A thoughtful dissection of the policies is very much needed. But to dismiss them entirely on the basis that it favors irresponsible corporations over responsible citizens is goddamn absurd. Did corporations practice predatory lending? Yes. But who took out the loans and credit cards they couldn't afford? Oh, that belt-tightening every-family who claims by Nielson power the innate comprehension of fiscal responsibility. Am I blaming the victim? Only as much as the victim is Bank of America, et al, and Tea-bagging-Joe-blow. Of course, this delusion is encouraged by the comfortable, rich, accountant-hiring popu-lites like Glen Beck, Sean Hannity, Rush Libaugh, etc. Anger leads to bad decisions, bad decisions that increase these people's worth, which leads to more anger. The cyclically stupid.

Sometimes I wish we'd truly export democracy, but export it the way we export our manufacturing labor. Of course I don't really want that to happen. I guess I don't mind the flaming flaggots flapping away their uninteresting rhapsodies of freedom and mish-mash as long as Obama's at the helm. It reminds me why I truly admire only one branch of government: the judicial. Yeah, yeah, say what you will about specific case outcomes (especially the recent decision to practically grant personhood to large corporations), but there's something wonderful about a group of top minds whose job it is to dissect, debate, spend long hours mulling over interpretation and semantics, parse heavily layered minutiae, and deliberate for hours at a time to come to a conclusion. I love that. It's also my favorite when it takes power away from those who would perpetuate prejudices and fears to make even more ignorant this country. They can overrule an unjust law even if 90% of the population raves about it.

Anyhow, I'd like to end with a message down-to-earth-Palin will understand, articulated in a manner that's hers: Go fuck ya-self.

P.S. My least favorite branch? The legislative. These ego-maniacal sociopaths spew "talking points" and glad-hand the idiocy all while finding deceitful ways of screwing their constituents. They're the would be movie-stars who lack the good looks, and have too much charisma and acting capability for Hollywood.

Like a patent chronometer

Once again, I've found myself reading Moby-Dick (a book not a few friends have been subjected to a drunken rant or two of mine). I love it's wildly disparate tone. One chapter (The Advocate) will be written in the most frantic, well, advocation of Ishmael's profession. The next (The Postscript) a patently ridiculous insistence on the greatness of whaling. These are followed by the first Knights and Squires chapter, a serious, though rather melodramatic, view on human principle, courage and work ethic. Great novels, at least of this period (though certainly many modern and contemporary ones can be included), tend to maintain a certain mood, a methodical rendering of the prose to keep an "even keel" (I won't inundate this blog with nautical terms, I promise). Melville's masterpiece, however, deliberately juxtaposes styles, almost developing the collage novel. KJV Bible and Shakespearean techniques and vocabularies are butted against sailorspeak, vernacular, yellow journalism, Presbyterian ethics, and American exceptionalism among other styles. It is over-written, over-wrought, proclamatory and a touch naive. That's why it's so wonderful.

That said, I was wondering how I could incorporate two of my favorite things into one blog entry. Basketball is my favorite sport (really, the only sport I truly love). I will watch the Super Bowl this week, but more as an excuse to hang out with friends, get drunk on Sunday morning, and eat awesomely bad food. So, it hit me about ten minutes ago to find analogues in the NBA with characters in the novel. I haven't given it much thought, so I may amend my choices at a later date. (I'm also about a quarter way through the book.) Are these perfect examples? No, but really, is that possible? So, here begins the list.

Starbuck: Brandon Roy "Uncommonly conscientious" and with a "ruggedness of nature" both Starbuck and Brandon have the internal, analytic skills to see situations in intelligent ways. Though Roy is first mate to no one, he facilitates on-court like few others. Would he entertain thoughts of mutiny if placed under the leadership of an Ahab? Perhaps not. Both dominate quietly and command respect with sheer ability. They are the guys who you want in crunch time to get done what needs to be. Bonus: Roy is a Washington native, Washington being home to that ubiquitous coffee chain named after Melville's creation. 

Stubb: Shaq Who else can philosophize so jovially? And now that he's back in championship contention, he really does seem like a second-mate (which is not at all an insult). His success seems to depend on teams that afford him great leaders: Penny Hardaway, Kobe, D-Wade and now LeBron; yet still maintaining a position of authoritative dominance and oversight. They preside over their whaleboat/team "as if the most deadly encounter were but a dinner, and the crew his invited guests." 

Flask: Rasheed Wallace In this case refs become the whales in this metaphor. "[...] very pugnacious concerning whales, who somehow seemed to think that the great Leviathans had personally and hereditarily affronted him; and therefore it was a point of personal honor with him, to destroy them whenever encountered." Refs love to t-up 'Sheed, but, as Free Darko pointed out last year, his stats go up after his first technical.   

Queequeg: ? Based on tattoos, this could be tied between Birdman and K-Mart. Or, for affable, efficient, stylish foreigner, Dirk Nowitzki, Rudy Fernandez, Nicolas Batum or Pau Gasol. Also, this could be a seemingly offensive categorization. 

Pip: Courtney Lee I feel bad for Lee. Essentially left out to see when traded to the Nets after a great post-season for the Eastern Conference champions. Hopefully next year he gets traded back to a contender. 

Ishmael: ? Ron Artest  Ron-Ron's a bit of an orphan (from one team to the next), a bit of a nut, rather perplexing but skilled enough to command (or demand) attention. 

Ahab: Kobe Bryant Now who didn't see this coming? Both are monomaniacal, fierce individuals demanding those below them absolute commitment. If one makes the analogy that Moby-Dick is a championship, then Kobe's killed that whale four times. But that seems rather unlikely. No, his whale is bigger than the rings he has: it's the rings he won't have that drive him to an almost insane level of play. And that's not simply losing to the Celtics. No, his is a will to set bigger and bigger goals before him, goals that may, eventually, be his downfall unless he takes a cue from Jordan and retire on top (and to dismiss that other cue from Jordan and come back a third time).