"Buuuttt, Mannn-chinnn...": The Democrats Revisit Their Valley Of Learned Helplessness

 

<https://americasbestpics.com/>

Gee, you think they'll somehow 

scrape up the nerve? Time will tell, we suppose.

<i.>

Joe Manchin has the heart of a deep freezer, and the soul of a refrigerator. Last week, West Virginia's nominally Democratic Senator stomped his wing-tipped feet in a fit of pique. On his way out, he thundered: "No way, no how, am I votin' for that Better Build Back thingie o'Biden's, 'cause those limp-wristed rev-en-ooo-ers can't whip us into submission, if y'all think greed should have limits."

OK, I took some dramatic liberties with the last sentence. It's hard to imagine those words ("greed should have limits") escaping the Wolf of West Virginia's ever-moving lips, let alone his ever-changing moods. Actually, he could saved us all the drama and said, "Merry Christmas, America. I got mine. I still do. F#ck you all."

Otherwise, he'd have to admit how well greed works for him, not to mention his soulless, avaricious brood -- whether it's the son, Joe Manchin IV (Roman numeral obligatory) who'll inherit the coal company that's made them all filthy rich, or the equally entitled daughter, Heather Bresch, whose chief legacy will be the relentless jackup of Epi-Pen prices. Need more depressing facts? The Fact Keepers link (below) will do the job nicely. You've been warned.

At any rate, Machin's piss 'n' vinegar display sent shock waves through the Democratic wading pool, when he announced his refusal to support Biden's horribly titled $1.75 trillion Build Back Better (BBB) bill. (Wouldn't "Build America Better" or "Rebuild America Now" have been sufficient?) So much for the notion that if you just baby him long enough, he'll come around. 

Manchin seems happy to forever play the eternal spoiler, the prodigal son who never commits to returning home. For those who support them, measures like the extension of the child tax credit, or the primitive paid leave proposal (Four weeks? Really?) are dead in the water, figuratively and literally, as the $10 Million Country Boy preaches the Gospel of Austerity from the safety of his 65-foot houseboat. 

The situation reached surreal heights during Vice President Kamala Harris's recent interview with Charlamagne Tha God, on Comedy Central. "So who's the real president of this country, is it Joe Manchin or Joe Biden?"  Charlamagne asked, adding, "I can't tell sometimes."

That seems like a reasonable question to pose, given the outsized influence Manchin loves to exert against our democracy, and the attention it brings him. Needless to say, though, the question evoked a snappish response from the Vice President. "No, no, no, no. It's Joe Biden. And don't start talking like a Republican about asking whether or not he's president."

Poor Ms. Harris. I imagine that she assumed that she'd signing up for a fair amount of weirdness, but nothing on this scale. All I can say is, as a writer -- you couldn't make up any of this stuff if you tried.

<"I'm H.P. Lovecraft, 

And I Approved This Message":

   Take II/The Reckoner>

Sad, isn't it? All I had to do was 

change the year, and it's right up to date. Ah, well.

<ii.>

Not to worry, though. The Democratic leadership act like they always do, once the latest crisis drops: they wring their heads, clutch their pearls, and let those season's bleatings begin...

<"Buuuttt -- Mannn-

chinn...">

Leadership then dutifully bows and scrapes to King Joe, hoping that somehow, they'll stumble on the secret sauce that finally melts His Arbitrariness's freeze-dried heart. Of course, it's bound to fail. Think back to your high school days, watching the socially awkward guy doggedly courting the beauty queen, hoping for at least 15 minutes of her time, if not an actual date (God forbid).

Week after gut-wrenching week, the butterfly mating dance would unfold, and if Mr. Awkward didn't give up the chase right away, Her Majesty would have to grow ever more creative in fobbing off his unwanted attentions. Excuses might range from faux shows of concern ("I like you better as a friend"), to over-programming ("I have to finish my geometry homework as I'm squeezing into my dress"), to sheer piffle ("I'm washing my hair that night, I think").

Whatever excuse Her Majesty dropped, it required an Academy Award-style acting to pull off. If it worked, Mr. Awkward might feel that she'd taken his wishes into account, without bruising his self-esteem. If it didn't? Mr. Awkward would eventually suss it out, waiting for the call that wouldn't come, while Her Majesty went out with the date of her choice.

Come Monday morning, both parties would warily pass each other in the hallway,  starting straight ahead, in the high school version of "don't ask, don't tell." Neither would party would say a word, nor lock eyes on each other, ever again. 

How do I know? Because I was that guy, and she did mutter something about having to wash her hair. So it goes with high school royalty, and so it goes with Joe Manchin.

<A 2022 Democratic Campaign Ad

That Won't Make The Cut...

The Reckoner>

<iii.>

Status quo supporters beg to differ. You can't bust Joe Manchin's chops too righteously, they insist, because he'll switch parties in a heartbeat. Otherwise, you'll kiss off that fiftieth vote in that 50-50 deadlocked Senate. Bye-bye, Build Back Better, and its array of policy initiatives now circling that 50-50 drain, along with them. 

But there's a few problems with swallowing that narrative, starting with the obvious: rank and file Democrats might do the equally unthinkable, and stay home from next fall's midterms. That'll suck for the rest of us, especially those who worry about the creeping fascism that the Republican Party brand increasingly represents.

Yet why does the Republican base stick so fiercely by its Dear Leader, Herr Trump, or Southern fried acolytes like Governor Greg Abbot, or Ron De Santis? Well, there's the possibility of achieving permanent one-party minority rule, for starters, that many right wingers seemingly crave. Not to mention the nightmarish hat trick of three Supreme Court picks, and the 2017 tax overhaul that made the rich so much richer. 

In short, Trump gave his true believers what they wanted, if he could muscle the votes to do it. If not, he signed an executive order, or temporarily appointed someone to fill a vacancy, and avoid Congressional scrutiny. Not that these are admirable steps, particularly, but they showed Trump's willingness to fight for his priorities (such as they were).

In contrast, the Democrats treat their voters with a contempt that's eerily similar to Colonel Tom Parker's milking of Elvis's fan base during his twilight years. That era, for those who didn't suffer it, is best remembered for its shameless recycling of previously released material, and gimmicky ploys like Having Fun With Elvis Onstage (1974), which offered 37 minutes of between-song banter -- minus the songs themselves. For completists only, as they say.

The only problem is that this approach, at a certain point, leaves the string puller starving at the box office. Imagine yourself as a Democratic Congressman, trying to explain why your party didn't deliver any of its priorities -- extending the child care tax credit, free community college, funding for disability care, including dental, hearing and vision coverage included in Medicaid, negotiating prescription drug prices, and oh, voting rights -- and why they should re-elect you, despite diminishing returns.

Depending on the surliness of the crowd, you may escape with mere four-letter barrages, or duck the odd rotten tomato or two. But dropping the standard alibi ("Buuuttt Mannn-chinnn...") as your get out of jail free card won't help much. Because without results, people start tuning out the message, if not the messenger.

<Another Democratic Midterm 2022 Ad

That Won't Make The Cut...We Hope:

The Reckoner>

<iv.>

So what can be done? Well, in my book, more than mainstream Democrats and their media enablers seem to think. Start with the obvious, as Senate Majority Leader Charles Schumer has already threatened to do: vote on Build Back Better, anyway, as it currently exists. 

If Manchin really opposes the child care credit, or paid leave -- because he believes the poor will spend that money on drugs, or play hooky to go hunting, as he's respectively insisted, behind closed doors -- let him explain why he holds such downright fucked-up views. Better yet, let him do it in front of the TV cameras whose attention he so self-righteously craves.

Maybe his refrigerator soul will hold firm, or maybe not. But if you don't push back, you'll never find out. Let him also tell the West Virginians he claims to love so much -- who rank at the bottom of any positive category -- why they can't keep the child tax credit, or paid leave. Unless they're making them up, most polls show broad public support for those two priorities, and varying degrees for the rest.

But it's nothing that President Biden couldn't overcome, if he gave more than a few speeches here or there, with reinforcement from progressive voices like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. A national speaking blitz would provide a powerful antidote to a mainstream media preoccupied by tales of Democratic dysfunction. "It's not some crazy left-wing wish list," as Congresswoman Pramila Jayapal succintly put it, earlier this fall.

Even so, as leader of the Congressional Progressive Caucus, Jayapal compounded the error by agreeing to de-link Build Back Better from the smaller, competing Bipartisan Infrastructure Framework (BIF) bill that the Senate has already passed. It was the last card progressives had left to play, yet they traded away it for...what, exactly? A lot of vague promises from Biden, Schumer and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi that Manchin would come around.

He wouldn't, and he didn't. For progressives, the lesson is painful, but all too obvious: bad actors stay bad actors, unless they have good reason to change their behavior. The anger that Manchin and his ideological twin from Arizona, Krysten Sinema, voiced when the House initially refused to unlink the bills, spoke volumes. It proved the strategy of getting them to "yes" was working. But those brief hopes evaporated, once progressives backtracked. That can't, and shouldn't, happen again.

But Democrats should not write off the power of public opinion, nor back down on insisting that Manchin come clean about he wants, especially after they've made so many concessions -- like drastically cutting BBB from its original $3.5 trillion target -- to woo him, without effect. Jayapal's recent suggestion of handing Manchin a pen, and asking him to cross out what he can't support, is a good start. But it won't mean anything if leadership lets Manchin wriggle off the hook. I also like her other suggestion, of Biden exploring what elements he can sign into law through executive orders. If Obama and Trump can wield a "phone and a pen," why not Biden?

Progressive Democrats also need to master the long game, something their Kentucky nemesis, Mitch McConnell, has already proven adept at gaming to benefit his crowd. But it'll take a major leadership change to flip that script. Pelosi and her chief lieutenants, Steny Hoyer and Jim Clyburn, all of whom are north of 80, should have retired after last fall's debacle that saw the Democrats lose 13 seats.

Schumer should also have retired last fall, following a record spending blitz of $1.1 billion that failed to accomplish its goal of taking back the Senate. That's not surprising, since most of his picks crash and burn -- except for Sinema, who's also undoing much of the Democratic agenda.

That Schumer groomed her as a candidate only makes last fall's failure more excruciating, and proof positive that it's time for someone else to make the picks. It's even more painful, when you consider Pelosi has already broken her promise to retire, so she can run for re-election. Such a move only demonstrates her own selfishness, when the party has many young progressive thinkers -- like Jamaal Bowman, Mondaire Jones, Ayanna Pressley, and AOC, to name a few -- who could, and should, move into leadership roles. 

Still, the rank and file should maintain the pressure to find new leadership, particularly if the Republican bloodbath materializes next year. Progressives also need to consider how they want those leadership roles to change, if (or when) they move into them. Legislative leaders should serve as more than mere telemarketers-in-chief, to cite the most glaring failure of Pelosi's and Schumer's leadership model -- one that's often left a policy vacuum, that big donors are all too happy to fill.

None of these steps will be easy, and none of them will be convenient. In fact, most of them will likely feel downright painful, at least in the short run. That goes without saying. But the reality is that progress often comes at a painful cost, typically when someone proves willing to inconvenience themselves to achieve it.

Where would we be, I wonder, if Martin Luther King had invoked a similar excuse ("But, Thurrr-monnnd...") to postpone his March on Washington? Or if Lech Walesa had gone back to lunch at the shipyard ("But, Mosss-cowww..."), and rallied his co-workers to fight for a better tomorrow?

As my sister has pointed out, during our many talks about the state of our political affairs, "Why does anybody care about Joe Manchin? He only has the power that you give him." I couldn't have said it better myself. The sooner Democrats come to that realization, the sooner they purge that ugly phrase ("Buuuttt Mannn-chinnn...")  from their vocabulary, get on with the business of governing, and do something that the faithful haven't seen from them do in a long time -- deliver. Time will tell when it happens, but if it does, the feeling won't be hard to miss. --The Reckoner

Links To Go (FFS, Someone Please

Strip The Crown Off This Wannabe King):

Down With Tyranny:
Midnight Meme Of The Day:
Smirking Joe Manchin Welcomes Our Hatred:
https://www.downwithtyranny.com/post/midnight-meme-of-the-day-smirking-joe-manchin-welcomes-our-hatred

[I linked this mainly for the cartoon featured here -- it certainly fits our theme!]

Fact Keepers: For Joe Manchin,

Greed And Corruption Are A Family Affair:
https://factkeepers.com/for-joe-manchin-corruption-and-greed-are-a-family-affair/

The Guardian: Stop Calling Joe Manchin

"Moderate" -- He's Just A Greedy Reactionary:
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2021/oct/09/stop-calling-joe-manchin-moderate-greedy-reactionary

The Philadelphia Inquirer:

A Broken America Should Build A Monument

To Joe Manchin's Massive Ego*:
https://www.inquirer.com/opinion/joe-manchin-power-greed-ego-20210916.html 

The Washington Post:
Manchin's Rebuff Of Build Back Better
Is The Latest Failure Of Democrats Playing Soft*:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2021/12/19/manchin-build-back-better-oppose-democrats-playing-soft/

[*Paywalled, so plan your workarounds accordingly...]

My Corona Diary (Take XXXIV): Everything's Such A Sh#tshow ("Take What Charlie Gives You")

 

<"Everything's Such A Shitshow":

Take I/The Reckoner>

<i.>

A few weeks back, I found myself getting some Chinese takeout food. It's a habit that we fall into whenever we're pressed for time, like the annual fall and winter Appoointment Blizzard, as we call it -- when the Squawker and I try squeezing in various medical appointments, before it's too brutally cold to venture out much.

So if the appointment's at 11:30 a.m., we eat lunch out, instead of heading home. Or, if my presence is required at 3:00 p.m., and we have grocery shopping to cram in, too, we'll wind up getting dinner out.

That's what I was doing at China Paradise, waiting on our usual dinner combo -- a large order of chicken mei fun, General Tsao's chicken, won ton soup, and a couple egg rolls. The owner's son rings up my order and asks, "So how's it going?"

"Oh, the usual," I shrug. "I got a copyediting project to finish off for somebody, waiting to get paid for some proofreading, got appointments for X, Y and Z this week..."

"Yeah, I got a couple things on the calendar myself." He forces a smile, and slides the brown grocery bag of food through the plexiglas barrier that's still up, a year and a half after the COVID-19 bomb dropped on us all. "Everything's a shitshow, you know?"

I take my bag. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know..." The owner's son gestures at the barrier that separates us from each other. "Here it is, a year and a half later, and we're still..."

"In the same place," I nod. "Not what you expected, is it?"

"Not really, no." Now it's his turn to force a weak smile. "Not to mention, what might happen next fall, with the elections. We're so fucked."

I'm assuming that he means the potential Republican takeover of the U.S. House of Representatives, based on them gerrymandering enough states to tip the majority their way, without ever scrapping for a single vote.

A suitably depressing piece of news, to be sure, but I'm too tired to press the point, so I opt for the usual banality: "Well, we'll all just have to do the best we can."

"Yeah, but everything's such a shitshow."

<Yup, yup, and...yup!>

<ii.>

I file that conversation away for future reference, in case I need it. Cue up another disquieting snapshot of our national temperature, state of the nation, whatever you care to call it -- this time, at the checkout counter of our local grocery store, Matthew's. 

Since we're returning from yet another appointment, we choose a store that's five miles from our in-town one. That way, we can combine the medical trip with our biweekly grocery run.

We're getting ready to check out, and the cashier, one of countless forty- or fiftysomething women working these jobs, stops for a moment, and arches her back. She visibly grimaces. "Are you all right?" I ask.

The cashier forces a smile. "Yeah, well, I'm having back problems. I've always had them, but lately..." She gestures at the empty checkout lanes on either side of us, and then, the line streching out behind Squawker and myself. "I'm the only one here, and..."

I help finish her the sentence. "That's been the case for a little while now, at least."

"Exactly." She goes back to hitting the register. "It's stressing me out a lot, and if this keeps up... Honestly, I'm about ready to quit."

"I understand. They call it combat pay, for a reason."

"Well, yeah, and we don't get that," she laughs. 

"At least you've got somebody to help out." I gesture at the bagger, a young twentysomething guy, who also looks like the only one available.

Our cashier finishes ringing up our purchases, the latest items of another roughly two-week run of food. I write the check, and hand it over, then follow the bagger, with Squawker bringing up the rear.

<Money Quotes Daily:
itsamoneything.com>

<iii.>

As you've seen, it's been awhile since I've checked in here. Part of the reason is the usual million things going on, like the Appointment Blizzard detailed above. Part of it is the usual professional grind, for me. Now that pandemic benefits are over, it's back to the figuring out clever workarounds to fill in the widening blanks in our bank account. At least, until the next economic implosion.

I actually considered breaking off this current series, and starting a "Post-Corona Diary," if you like. But I decided against it, since we're facing many of the same issues: to reopen, or not reopen? To risk, or not to risk, large group activities? To test, or not to test? The fog of anxiety hangs in the air, and I'm not sure where we're headed yet.

Actually, I can, on one front. Thanks to the Republican wing of the Democratic Party, we're not getting any of the changes that we demanded -- as the $10 Million Country Boy, Senator Joe Manchin ("D"-WV), made clear today, when he declared his opposition to President Biden's $1.75 trillion Build Back Better plan. On FOX News, no less. 

Say goodbye to all the ambitions wrapped up in that package -- the same one that Manchin played a significant part in shaving from $3.5 to $1.75 trillion. Gone is the $300 per child tax credit that became a centerpiece of Biden's social policy, one credited with cutting child poverty by 40%. The IRS sent out the last checks on December 15. Well, at least nobody has to worry about whether the program will continue.

Dental, hearing and vision coverage for Medicare? Forget it. We were only including hearing, and only if you begged loud enough. Free community college? Gone and forgotten. Only the rich deserve massive subsidies. Negotiating drug prices? Not a chance. Big Pharma hates it. You wouldn't want them shivering in the cold and snow, right? Paid parental leave? We started with 12 weeks, but how does four sound? Or maybe nothing? 

Merry Christmas. You're on your own. What a country.

<"Everything's Such A Shitshow"
Take II/The Reckoner>

<iv.>

I'll save the takeaways from Manchin's announcement for another post, and leave him to his 65-foot houseboat, for now. It makes an ironic perch for his rantings against "the entitlement society," as he likes to call it. I assume that includes the few COVID-19 protections that Congress enacted, from eviction moratoriums, to Pandemic Unemployment Assistance benefits (even for gig workers). 

But I suspect he hates those programs for a different reason than the one he advertises. It's not because they didn't work, but because they worked a little too well. After all, the stronger you leave the precariart, the less necessary -- and less relevant -- relics like the $10 Million Country Boy become.

Breadheads like Manchin actually favor a different kind of dependence, one that Sidney Lumet's film, Serpico (1974), summarizes beautifully. One of my favorite scenes comes at the beginning, when the title character (Al Pacino) asks why he should accept a free creamed chicken sandwich at the local deli, when he really wants a leaner beef one. "Couldn't I pay for it, get what I want?" Serpico pleads with his new partner, Peluce.

The seen-it-all-done-it-all vet sets Serpico straight fast. "Charlie's okay," Peluce explains. "We give him a break for double parking on deliveries." Then he drops the punchline. "Frank, you just sort of generally take what Charlie gives you."

What can I say? Like I told the Squawker: we'll see what the winter brings, I guess. --The Reckoner

Guest Cartoon: The Highwayman Returns!: "The Enemy Of The Good"

 

“We can’t run on progressive policies 

and not govern on them.”

<U.S. Rep. Jamaal Bowman (D-NY), 

Twitter statement>

"The angrier they get, the more obvious it seems that their desire for a reconciliation bill is nil. This substantiates the strategy of compelling them to get to yes."

<Fahiz Shakir, former adviser
to Bernie Sanders, responding
to Senator Kyrsten Sinema's
angry response to progressive revolt>

“We made all these promises to voters across the country
that we were going to deliver on this agenda,
it’s not some crazy left-wing wish list.

"I feel like we in the Democratic Party
have lost so many voters,
because they don’t see us fighting
for the things that might be
a little bit harder
to get across the finish line.”"

<U.S. Rep. Pramila Jayapal,
Congressional Progressive Caucus Leader,
speaking to reporters last Friday>

“It’s a huge departure from business as usual.
Progressives have a veto over
what Democrats pass in the House.

"It’s the beginning of an era
of progressive governance
that will shift power to working people.”

“They didn’t have any following,” Pelosi told 
New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd.
“They’re four people and that’s how many votes they got.” Harsh, but fair—their legislative threats went nowhere.”

<Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House,
reflecting on "the before times">

“Many people are misinformed. 
Or maybe they misunderstood the progressive movement.

"The thing about the progressive movement is
we’re challenging how Washington historically has worked. We’re pushing back and saying ‘hell no.'”

<U.S. Rep. Jamaal Bowman (D-NY),
addressing the implications
of last week's progressive revolt>

“For one year?” the New York progressive 
asked rhetorically. 

“Instead of them asking everyone
to cater to themselves,
why don't we come to this process
as equal partners?” she said.

<U.S. Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY),
responding to reporters' queries
on her feelings of Sen. Joe Manchin's
$1.5 trillion "counteroffer">

“If progressives are treated as adversaries, 
all you’re left with 
is the disrupter role to play.

"But if progressives are treated as allies,
we can really help deliver things.” 

<U.S. Rep. Jared Huffman (D-CA),
speaking to Mother Jones:
"What If The Progressive Revolt...
Isn't A Revolt At All?"
(10/01/21)>

Well, it's been a couple of years since The Highwayman last graced these pages, back in the fall of 2019, but our favorite outsider artist this back, with an honest-to-goodness strip this time -- and it's a doozy, if you ask me! If you've seen The Highwayman's cartoons here before, you know what to expect -- no fuss, no muss, no messing around, much like the original '76-'77 punk explosion, whose vapor trails still ricochet loudly across these pages.

So I've done the usual post-production treatment, with some appropriate quotes to ponder. One of the most interesting aspects of the fallout over the Democrats' dueling infrastructure bills is the reaction to the progressives' revolt. As usual, the mainstream media chooses to cover it as just another Beltway catfight, but in reality, there's way, way, waaay more going on behind the curtain.

And let's not kid ourselves. The road ahead gets a lot harder, especially when you read about how the obstructionists -- such as Senator Kyrsten Sinema ("D"-AZ), whose angry response ("I have never, and would never...") is referenced above, in Panel Five -- remain determined to stomp on the progressives' social spending wish list (negotiating prescription drug costs, tuition-free community college, universal pre-K, and so on) before it gains ground, and our dysfunctional Congress actually passes it, or something. I suspect that image is keeping them awake nights.

Not even a foot doctor's appointment in Arizona -- the excuse that Sinema pleaded, apparently, for skipping on a Democratic strategy meeting last Friday -- prevented the Senate's so-called engima from holding a high-dollar fundraiser that very same night, as she hobnobs with more of the high-priced lobbying hoi polloi who clearly command the lion's share of her attention. 

I suspect that she wasn't even limping after she picked up the checks.

The $750,000 in contributions that Sinema's collected from Big Pharma firms, for example, might go some way toward explaining her opposition to the prescription drug price negotiation aspect of the $3.5 trillion infrastructure bill. As our old friend, the Church Lady, might say...

"Hooowww...Con...ven...iii...ent!"

Not to be outdone, of course, is her ideological twin, Senator Joe Manchin ("D"-WV), who's already suggested "pausing" the $3.5 trillion version, even as he continues to preach austerity from the pleasant, undemanding confines of his 65-foot houseboat, the aptly-named Almost Heaven, where he prefers to spend much of his down time.

Manchin's blind fealty to the austerity idol reminds me of Queen Elizabeth's equally misplaced Christmas message of 2018, in which she pleaded for generosity and self-sacrifice -- right in front of an ornate golden piano.

Like the saying goes, you can't make this stuff up. Though maybe Manchin and Queen Elizabeth might think about getting together and sharing their austerity enthusiasms over an old-fashioned plum duff lunch at Buckingham Palace (courtesy of the British taxpayer, of course).

As for the rest of the fallout from the dueling infrastructure bills, we'll see how it all plays out. But from my end, anyway, it felt good to see somebody finally standing up to the bad actors -- the same ones who've broken faith, time and again, even as they plead, "Trust us, we've got this" -- and showing them that business as usual can't continue. 

As fervently as legislative darkling like Manchin and Sinema pray for a pausing in social spending, which surely ties in with social justice, the reality is starkly different for the millions of Americans whose needs they prefer to ignore.

For those cast adrift without the enhanced unemployment benefits, eviction moratoriums, and paused student loan payments that have characterized the COVID Era, the "dark night of the soul" -- coupled with the unflinching budget demands of a long cold winter -- are about to become stark reality, all over again. And it is their needs, not those of the greedy, grasping K Street crowd, whose self-entitlement knows no bounds, that Congress should put first. --The Reckoner

Showbiz For Ugly People: Unscrambling California's Recall Fever

 

<www.sarahepperson.com>


Cheap and tacky bullshit land
Told when to sit don't know where you stand
Too busy recreating the past
To live in the future.

Poor relations to Uncle Sam - 

bears no relation to the country man
Too busy being someone else to be who you really are.

<The Style Council, "Confessions 1-2-3">

<i.>

California's endless recall election is finally winding down today, after weeks of high stakes campaigning. If current polls are accurate, Democratic Governor Gavin Newsom seems on track with survive by a double-digit margin, with roughly 60 percent of voters willing to back him, versus the 38 percent voicing interest in a totally different flavor, Republican Larry Elder.

Those numbers aren't surprising in a state when Democratic voters outnumber Republicans by a 2-to-1 margin. Another reminder comes from the return rate for mail-in ballots that went out weeks ago to California's 22 million registered voters. About 35 percent of them are in, with way more coming from Democrats (4.1 million) than Republicans (1.9 million).

Newsom himself won his first election with a landslide margin of 62 percent, and enjoys approval ratings of 57 percent, give or take -- yet barely a month ago, pundits seemed poised to write his political obituary, as Elder's amped up rhetoric made him the frontrunner among 46 candidates seeking the state's top job. 

Just how did we get here after five failed recall attempts? And what does the anticipated outcome say about Elder's and Newsome's leadership styles, or lack thereof, depending on your perspective? For the answers, let's do a deeper dive, and see where it takes us.

<Gavin Newsom:

Wikimedia Commons>

                                                     

"No time to spare - 'spare me a dime'?

The Great Depression is organised crime

Their confessions are written in your blood.

"Kiss your ass an' dreams goodbye
Come back when you've learnt to cry
To busy tryin' to be strong to see how weak you are."

<The Style Council,

"Confessions 1-2-3">

<ii.>

As every political junkie knows, two words sum up Newsom's current predicament: "French Laundry." That's the name of the opulent restaurant in Yountville, CA, where Newsom and his wife were caught dining with officials of the California Medical Association -- in close quarters, indoors, without masks, as they'd constantly been reminding fellow Californians, even while COVID-19 rates were spiking upward for the holidays.

The resulting "Dinnergate" fiasco inspired plenty of howls from the usual mainstream media suspects (cue the New York Times: "Gavin Newsom, What Were You Thinking?"). But the setting proved as much a liability for him, as the timing. With prices starting at $350 a pop, "you need to be rich or have rich friends who are willing to pay the bill," as the Financial Samurai notes, in its overview of the French Laundry (see link below).

If you've got money to burn, there's plenty of options to set it alight, whether you plump for the historic dining room ($850 per person), New Year's Eve dinner ($800 per person), or a night of white truffles and caviar ($1,200 per person). That's before we get to the Governor's bar tab for the night, variously reported at $12,000 to $15,000.

It's not hard to see how such Marie Antoinette-style antics upset people in a state known for its astronomical costs of living, one that accounts for 20 percent of the nation's homeless (151,278 people), who report varying reasons for their plight. Not surprisingly, high rent is number one (68 percent), followed by lack of income (50 percent), poor housing availability (38 percent), and criminal records that cut off access to housing (20 percent).

Yet Newsom saw nothing wrong with his behavior, until the tidal wave of outrage forced him to do what corporate Democrats have done since time immemorial: backpedal, and scramble to play catchup Even so, Newsome seemed flat-footed and flummoxed, especially when pundits suggested that geeked-up Republicans might actually pull this off. 

And then came Larry Elder.

<Larry Elder, Camp Pendleton, 2013:

Public Domain>


 "Somebody smiled on Gavin Newsom and presented California voters with the opportunity to listen to Larry Elder."
<Danny Sragow, Publisher,
The California Target Book>

<iii.>

If Gavin Newsom is the Hapless Warrior, we might dub Larry Elder the Angry Viking. On paper, the leading contender to replace Newsom hardly seems like a fit for the job he craves so openly. He has no government experience, having spent two decades in the talk radio trenches, doing what people like him do best: fanning the grievances of a (mostly) aging white fanbase longing for a simpler time. It's a well-paying gig, and one you can keep forever, so Elder's platform shouldn't surprise anyone.

Abortion? Get rid of it. Texas's newly-enacted Orwellian law suits him fine. How to fix public schools? Give Mom and Dad vouchers. Mask mandates? We don't need them. Medicaid? Abolish it. Protections for pre-existing conditions, and public welfare programs? Scrap them. Let the SOBs stand on their own two feet. Racism? A figment of your imagination. Just pull yourself up by your bootstraps. State-funded healthcare? We don't need it. Let the market handle it.

It's an agenda that feels elastic and simplistic at the same time, since Elder hasn't exactly specified how he'd ever pull it off in a State Assembly, where Democrats outnumber Republicans 60-19, or the State Senate, where they hold an equally lopsided 30-9 edge. My sense is, he'd spend much of his time scheming how to punish his presumed enemies, like some aging mobster trying to hold his turf at any cost.

What's even more troubling, though, is the brittle defensiveness that Elder often shows, whether in trying to fend off some previous color quote coming back to haunt him ("Women know less about men than political issues, economics, and current events": 2000 column), or brushing off when minority voters question why the self-styled "Sage of South Central" hangs out with white nationalists like Stephen Miller, the infamous architect of Trump's brutal immigration policies.

Guess where Miller got his start? On Elder's radio show, of course, a fact that caused him to sputter to Cal Matters: "Why would you bring up Stephen Miller? I'm just wondering what the agenda here is. What's the point? Am I somehow -- what? A Nazi? A fascist?"

How Cal Matters responded, we don't know, because their article (see below) doesn't say. But it reminds me of the saying that politics is "showbiz for ugly people." By that standard, Larry Elder may be the among ugliest to emerge yet from the proverbial swamp.

<iv.>

So what should we make of all this noisy chaos, if Newsom survives? For Californians, the situation should prompt some serious tweaking of a recall law that's barely changed since they adopted it in 1911. The potential for freakish results looms large in a process that needs just 12 percent of registered voters to launch, allows an unlimited number of replacement candidates to run, and requires only a simple majority to win.

For Gavin Newsom, the recall should serve as a wakeup call. As many voters have made clear, from the stories I've seen, they're sticking with him because they don't view Elder's bomb throwing style as a good fit for the world's fifth largest economy. Nor do they see any point in recalling a governor who's entering the final year of his first term in office.

The pandemic politics that landed Newsom in so much hot water now hold the key to his political survival, an irony that needs no further elaboration. Still, Newsom's Dinnergate gaffe should also remind him that perception paces reality. When the overall vibe comes across as, "Do as I say, not as I do," it's not hard to see why  buyer's remorse sets in. Good leaders ignore this reality at their peril, as Newsom did, when his flagship business, PlumpJackGroup, continued to operate its dozen-odd hotels, restaurants and wineries, while Main Street had to shut down.

For Larry Elder and his cultish fanbase, it's hard to imagine a failed recall inspiring any real introspection. Yet if he wants to continue his political career, Elder will have to take California's electoral math into account. Pitching your message to those who already agree with it doesn't seem like a winning formula in a state where Democrats hold such commanding advantages.

Good leaders "read the room," and make adjustments when whatever they're doing -- or saying -- isn't going over. Elder's apparent inability (or unwillingness) to do so raises serious questions about his skill set. It's a drawback that violates "Healey's first rule of politics," as the late British politico defined it: "When you're in a hole, stop digging."

But such foibles carry their share of ironies, as Elder inadvertently acknowledged to the LA Times last week, in responding to criticisms of his "Sage of South Central" tagline as a misguided attempt to buy himself some "street cred":

"I didn't think very much about it. I probably came up with it within a few seconds of being on the air and it stuck. People call me that, but I can't say there's anything deep behind it." 

In a campaign silly season largely defined by his hectoring, high-decibel persona, that simple observation may well have been the most truthful -- and revealing -- thing that Larry Elder has ever said. --The Reckoner

Links To Go:
California Globe
Gavin Newsom's Dinnergate Apology:
https://californiaglobe.com/articles/gov-gavin-newsoms-dinnergate-apology-grows-from-little-white-lie-to-whopper/

Cal Matters: Who Is Larry Elder,

And What He Would Do As Governor?:
https://calmatters.org/politics/2021/08/newsom-recall-candidates-larry-elder-interview/

CNN: "Women Exaggerate The Problem Of Sexism":
Top California Recall Candidate Larry Elder
Has A Long History Of Making 

Disparaging Remarks About Women:
https://www.cnn.com/2021/08/19/politics/kfile-ca-recall-larry-elder-on-women/index.html

Downtown Streets Team
The Truth About Homelessness:
https://streetsteam.org/causesMythsMisconceptions?gclid=Cj0KCQjwkIGKBhCxARIsAINMioILBoWzfdw55Gt5jilGkCgHEtGXjhSMU1IdWfLOFVXUAQKdxQCyxWAaAk8sEALw_wcB

Financial Samurai
How Rich Do You Have To Be 
To Dine At French Laundry Like Gavin Newsom?
https://www.financialsamurai.com/how-rich-to-dine-at-french-laundry/

Los Angeles Times
Larry Elder And The Danger

Of The "Model Minority" Candidate:
https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2021-09-13/larry-elder-model-minority

Guest Post (Chairman Ralph): Here Comes Johnny Yen (And Then Some): Lust For Life, Celebrated

 

<https://www.superseventies.com/sppopiggy2.html>

<Intro>

I remember how and where it all started: January 1980, a lifetime away now. My dad and I were getting into one of our usual two-bit arguments about the usual two-bit teenage crap I'm halfway through high school, so you can just imagine the kind of sparring going on in the kitchen. What do you wanna be when you grow up blah blah blah what are you gonna do with your life blah blah blah have you thought about college yet? blah blah blah what about a summer job? blah blah blah you need better grades to get into a decent school blah blah blah and so on and so forth, so on and so forth, round and round the drain we circle, one more time...

At this point, I get up from my chair. All this (mostly) one-way dialogue is making my head buzz. The white noise of oncoming adulthood is ringing in my ears. Yeah, the discussion's relevant, I tell myself, but not f#cking now! My birthday's Saturday. I don't really care about anything else tonight. 

"I gotta go," I announce, without fanfare. I get up briskly, and start heading for my room, to grab my jacket. 

"Where are you going?" A flash of worry clouds my dad's face, then my mom, who doesn't typically participate in these discussions.

"Ah, the mall. I'm gonna do the usual, look at the cut-outs, the eight-tracks, the imports..." I fumble around for the keys to our '78 white LeMans. Technically, it's my mom's car, but she's not driving it much lately.

That means I can periodically "borrow" it, to hone my driving to a fine art (or finer nub, depending on my day, and mood). Theoretically, I'm preparing for my driving test, but the trouble is, my learner's permit makes it easier to put off that day of reckoning a little bit longer. Back then,you had to go out with a local cop, armed with a clipboard, ready to check off his list, and all that stuff.

Guess what, though? It's my birthday, and I sure as hell am not doing anything like that. I have other things in mind, like the punk rock/New Wave explosion that's captured my imagination, of which I'm getting a healthy fix via eight-tracks. (More about that momentarily.) I'm sixteen, dammit, and I need a suitable soundtrack. 

 

Within half an hour, I've gotten my latest fix at the mall...something called Lust For Life, by Iggy Pop, somebody I've been reading about a lot lately in Rolling Stone. He curses out out his audiences, cuts himself on broken glass, flicks lit cigarettes at 'em, flips 'em the bird...and that's when they're sufficiently appreciative, and actually paying attention. Imagine what he does when they're spacing out!

Anyway, the various album reviews, live reports and interviews trickling into my vision through Rolling Stone, and whatever mags I'm picking up at the grocery store make all these antics sound interesting. It certainly sounds way cooler than what I'm used to seeing -- hairy guys with pornstaches, hiding banks of amps and keyboards, through which they crank out the lamest, most inoffensive, middle of the road sounds imaginable. 

Whatever, I tell myself, as I slide Mom's LeMans into the driveway. At this point, I don't need any convincing. I'm in.

<"He's Nude 'N' Rude..."/The Reckoner>

<ii.>

Here I am now, I'm grooving to Lust For Life in my bedroom. One song, in particular, captures my attention, driven along by a nagging, yet undeniably catchy guitar riff, that goes something like this:

<BUM-BUM-BUM, 

BAH-BUM-BUM-

BA-DA-DAH-DUM...>

Cool as it is, that riff wouldn't mean anything without that whomping drum intro that Hunt Sales whacks out on his kit. Every time I hear it, I think, this is how drums should sound, big and strong. Even on headphones, it sounds like you're in the room with him, as brother Tony's bass falls in, followed by the respective rhythm and lead guitars of Carlos Alomar and Ricky Gardiner.

Next come the Burroughs-inflected lyrics ("Here comes Johnny Yen again, with the liquor and drugs/And the flesh machine/He's gonna do another striptease") that Iggy barks out with a staccato urgency ("I've been hurting since I bought the gimmick/About something called love, something called love/Well, that's like hypnotizing chickens"), because he's got somethin' to tell ya, anyhow. Iggy was fresh from two years in the wilderness, following the breakup of his pioneering band, The Stooges, with The Idiot (1977), whose dark narcotic throb propelled him back into the public consciousness. 

<"Come In, Nipper (You've Met Your Match At Last...)/
The Reckoner>

<iii.>

Sure, he'd spent much of those two years struggling with drugs, and sleeping on peoples' couches, surfing the margins without a record deal. But this time around, he's determined to do better, as he tells you later: "Yeah, I'm through sleeping on the sidewalk/No more beating my brains, with liquor and drugs/No more beating my brains, with liquor and drugs." Lawd have mercy!

Making those promises is one thing, of course. Making them stick would take a decade and a half or so, but no doubt about it, "Lust For Life" signaled a new attitude, a notable shift of priorities. From my perspective, it's getting the job done. My head's no longer buzzing with arguments about college or grades or summer jobs or what I "should" be doing with my life. The white noise of oncoming adulthood is no longer ringing in my ears. I've forgotten all about what Dad said.

Right now, I'm just sitting on my bed, savoring another song that's caught my ear. It's "Sixteen," your classic ode to teenage jailbait, more or less ("Sweet 16, in leather boots/Body and soul, I go crazy/Baby, I'm-a hungry'), driven along by a nagging cowbell and trash can-sounding guitar. 

Iggy's normal baritone croon is now a cracked-sounding yelp that ripples through my primitive eight-track player speaker ("I'm an easy mark, with my broken heart"), and I couldn't care less about anything else. I'm turning 16, listening to a song called "Sixteen," and right now, nothing else matters, full stop. This is how that unholy duo of Iggy Pop and Lust For Life entered my home. 

http://www.collectorscum.com/8tracks/

Not mine, obviously, but nice to see...

<iv.>

No doubt about it: how you perceive the likes of Lust For Life depends on when and where you first came across it. In Iggy's case, I imagine countless millions found out through Trainspotting's opening sequence of its junkie trio dashing through Edinburgh's mean streets, or that Royal Caribbean Cruises ad, to name two of the higher-profile corners that they've probably heard "Lust For Life," the song. 

My experience was different, as I've noted. Scoring Lust For Life on eight-track wasn't my goal, but I couldn't always fork over the $6.98 list price that most new releases normally commanded then. But sometimes, you could scoop up the eight-track version for at least a couple bucks off, making them an attractive fallback, even if the format restrictions (11.5 minutes per track, 46 minutes total) meant that your favorite song often got chopped in half.

They weren't always in great condition, either. Sometimes, you'd get only get half a dozen or so plays before the tape broke, forcing you hunt down another copy, if you felt motivated enough. Even so, I'd just gotten an eight-track player for a Christmas gift, so I needed to feed that particular beast, anyhow. Without eight-tracks, I wouldn't have heard the likes of Elvis Costello (Armed Forces, My Aim Is True), Bob Marley (Babylon By Bus, Burnin', Natty Dread), The Police (Outlandos D'Amour), Talking Heads (Remain In Light)., and -- Lust For Life, to name a few.

Eight-tracks also exposed me to less obvious fare, like UK's self-titled debut album, for instance, and a lot of '60s-related fodder, such as The Best Of The Electric Flag (1971), which marked my first taste of Mike Bloomfield's supernatural guitar wizardry, and inspired me to track related albums, like Live At Winterland (1969), and My Labors (1970), on dust-coated cutout cassettes. (Both tapes broke quickly, though, so I wouldn't get to hear them in full until 20- or 30-odd years later.)

You had oddities, too, like this tape of off-brand Saturday Night Fever soundtrack covers I got that Christmas, along with my eight-track player. Hearing those journeymen Bee Gees wannabes struggling to hit those high notes on something like "Night Fever" ("We know how to do it for-EHHH-VERRR, can't you feel it?"), and never quite making it, provided hours and hours of cheap yuks. Nice try, boys, I'd chuckle, but no cigar. And then came Iggy.

<http://www.collectorscum.com/8tracks/>

Never saw THIS ONE gracing
any bargain bin...oh, well.

<iv.>

"Lust For Life," of course, is only one jewel on an album brimming with them. As he'd done on The Idiot, Bowie played a major hand in the music -- co-writing six of the eight songs here. But Iggy also took a more direct musical role than he'd done on The Idiot, with crucial support from the band. This policy led to a looser, more collaborative ethic, with Iggy improvising lyrics with each take. (Bowie would borrow this technique, like he did so many things, for his next album, Heroes.)

Gardiner supplied the insistently catchy riff for "The Passenger," which falls into the "I Am A Camera" sub-genre of Iggydom. Basically, it's Iggy Pop as observer of the human condition ("He sees the stars come out tonight/He sees the city's ripped back sides/He sees the winding ocean drive"), as he casts a frown around the cityscapes that excite (and oppress) him at the same time. 

Gardiner, along with Bowie, also co-wrote one of my other personal favorites, "Success," a rollicking throwdown to the joys of going for it ("Here comes success/Here comes my car/Here comes my Chinese rug"). Like "Lust For Life," it's built around a rollicking call 'n' response riff, with the band repeating each lyric to increasingly hilarious effect, as Iggy ups the ante near the end: "I'm gonna out into the street and do anything I wanna...OH, SHIT!" Hearing the boys struggling to keep up, as Iggy sings those lines faster and faster, still cracks me up, all those 40-odd years later. 

Gardiner's blunderbuss guitar style also lends an air of throbbing menace on two other rockers -- "Neighborhood Threat," and "Some Weird Sin," whose dark, droning chord sequences (E-flat, F-sharp, G-sharp, B-flat) complements its "If you're skating on thin ice, you might as well dance" sentiments.  The mood darkens considerably on "Tonight" ("I saw my baby/She was turning blue/I knew that soon her young life was through"), which offers a loving tribute to a partner about to expire from an apparent overdose ("I will love her till I die/I will see her in the sky/Tonight"). It's powered by a piercing lead break from Gardiner, and swirling keyboards from Warren Peace (a/k/a Geoff MacCormack).

"Give the keyboard guy some" seems to have been the primary reason for Warren Peace's sole co-write, "Turn Blue," seven minutes of slow-burning, spleen-baring that I'd appreciate more, if I only knew what Iggy's actually going on about. At various points, he pants over a woman in a black El Dorado ("That black girl in the back looks pretty good"), then rapidly free associates through references to Jesus ("You might as well come with me"), and drug abuse ("Oh, Momma, I shot myself down").  Is he victim or villain? Who knows? I can listen to this song, if I'm in the right mood, but to put it another way...I didn't mind seeing this one cut in half. (For more info, see the Pushing Ahead Of The Dame links below -- both being must reads!)

"

Fall In Love With Me" -- the other epic here, at six and a half minutes -- works way better, due to its conceit of making each musician play an instrument they didn't already know. (Bowie also borrowed this idea for "Boys Keep Swinging," on his '79 album, Lodger.) Hence, Gardiner deputizes on drums; Hunt Sales, bass; and Tony Sales, guitar, burnishing the "fall apart any minute" mood at work here. It's a celebration of Iggy's German girlfriend of the time, Esther Friedmann, so there's nothing to think about too deeply, but it's a fine ending to a fine album.

<Dutch single, 1977: RCA Records>

<v.>

For all his newfound purpose and creativity, Iggy found himself in his usual spot: ahead of his time, and falling between two chairs at the box office. Lust For Life received little promotion from RCA on its release (August 29, 1977), a mere three weeks after the death of Elvis Presley, whose catalog received far greater attention (to put it mildly). Once its first pressings sold out, the album became hard to find, as Tony Sales told Iggy's biographer, Paul Trynka: "Lust For Life just disappeared from the shelves, and that was it."

As a result, Lust For Life peaked at #120 US, a considerable notch down from The Idiot (#72 US). RCA pulled only one single ("Success"/"Sixteen") in September, that made no impression whatsoever, and called it a day. Reactions overseas proved predictably stronge -- including the former Yugoslavia, of all places, and Holland, "Lust For Life" earned a #3 chart placing. The parent album peaked at #28 UK -- just two places above The Idiot, which had given Iggy his first Top 40 foothold.

In hindsight, it's hard to think of fewer albums that I liked better, yet weren't so celebrated at the time. RCA's apparent indifference is all the more grating, when you consider the purple patch of creativity that Iggy and Bowie were experiencing in '77. That stretch kicked off in January 1977, with the release of Bowie's album, Low -- followed by The Idiot (March '77), the Lust For Life sessions (May to June '77), and album release. 

Appropriately, the year ended in November '77, with the release of Kill City, overseen by former Stooges guitarist James Williamson. He'd recorded it two years earlier with Iggy, who did his vocals on weekend leaves from a mental hospital where he was staying, to beat his long -standing heroin addiction. 

The pair had intended it as a demo, in hopes of striking a new record deal, but no takers emerged -- until The Idiot and Lust For Life provided the obvious cues. Add in the usual ongoing tasks of demoing, rehearsing, and touring, and you're left thinking:

For guys who wanted to convince you they were decadent vampires, it's tough to imagine a pair of night stalkers who worked as hard.

<Iggy Pop Versus The World, Take I/

The Reckoner>

<Coda/Over 'n' Out...>

But all the commercial metrics of Lust For Life's performance obscure one other reality -- while mainstream audiences largely shrugged, those who bought it became ardent converts, who often became became groundbreakers themselves. For example, Paul Westerberg briefly played in a band called Neighborhood Threat, on his way to becoming the Replacements' frontman and songwriter. 

Bowie also recorded "Neighborhood Threat" and "Tonight" -- as a duet with Tina Turner, minus the drug references -- to no particularly great effect on Tonight (1984), which ties the inappropriately-named Never Let Me Down (1987), for the Starman's worst piece of platinum-seeking cow poop -- but the results reportedly bailed Iggy out of a tax debt to Uncle Sam. Even if the results were excruciating, I could support that cause, and if you notice a drop in quality, son, that's neither here nor there.

Not surprisingly, much of that action has revolved around "Lust For Life," the song -- which first began appearing in films like Spetters (1980), a gritty Dutch language dirt biker drama, and Desperately Seeking Susan (1985). "On Lust For Life, the drums sound not huge, but massive!" New Order's drummer, Stephen Morris, noted with vivid enthusiasm:

"The loudest cymbals known to man, that riff! I wanted to sound like that, still do."

It's hard to imagine a better tribute, though I honestly don't need it to validate my experience, anymore than I need the Royal Caribbean or the Trainspotting images, nor all the various covers that have emerged over the years, nor all the assorted documentaries and TV shows and videos purporting to have uncovered that proverbial 800 feet of tape that somehow explains it all. 

Maybe Iggy and company didn't have work that hard to win me over, because by this point, I was actively reading magazines like CREEM and Rolling Stone, not to mention more highbrow establishment bastions like TIME, trying to get more and more of my hands on a piece of this so-called punk 'n' New Wave action that was firing my neurons into eternal overdrive. 

But it's hard to imagine fewer records that hit me harder -- once the Clash and the Sex Pistols dropped that potential aitch-bomb into my brain -- or grabbed me tighter by the throat. Lust For Life stands up, simply because it reminds you of what's possible, and then proceeds to deliver on that promise, rather than reneging it, like so many releases did (and still do). Copout isn't on the agenda, full stop.

And once that realization drops, like it did it for me on that rickety eight-track speaker so long ago, one other realization hits: No more looking back, because this is the real deal. Once you're in, you're all in, and whatever you do, don't settle. That's the moral of the story here, as far as I'm concerned.

So much for my history lesson; what you do with it is your business. Now, if you'll excuse me, that flesh machine needs my urgent attention. And I've really gotta get back to hypnotizing me some more of those chickens. --Chairman Ralph

Links To Go 

(For All You Modern Guys...And Gals):
A Pop Life: Lust For Life:
https://en.apoplife.nl/iggy-pop-lust-for-life/

CollectorScum.com: Punk 8-Tracks:
http://www.collectorscum.com/8tracks/

(Lots of cool eight-track pics, plus some neat related stuff --

check it out!)

Iggy Pop's "The Idiot":
http://idiotlust.blogspot.com/

Pushing Ahead Of The Dame: The Idiot:
https://bowiesongs.wordpress.com/category/the-idiot-1977/

Pushing Ahead Of The Dame: Lust For Life:

https://bowiesongs.wordpress.com/category/lust-for-life-1977/

Various Album Reviews:
https://www.superseventies.com/sppopiggy2.html