Showing posts with label government shutdown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label government shutdown. Show all posts

Sunday, November 23, 2025

They Came, They Saw, They Blinked: Some Lessons From The Shutdown Letdown


<https://www.instagram.com/p/DQWryKFDcLL/
Cartoon: Jesse Duqette
Nothing like priorities, eh?>

We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.” (Martin Luther King, "Letter From A Birmingham Jail," 1963)

<i.>
Now that the dust has settled on history's longest government shutdown, it's fair to ask
, what did anybody learn? Not much, apparently, judging by the eight Democratic Senate renegades' eagerness to pull the plug on the whole venture -- or what appeared, at least initially, a concerted effort to slam some sort of brakes on what clearly has revealed itself as an increasingly lawless authoritarian regime. 

Certainly, that was the base's expectation, judging by a cursory glance around the old Internet, where the brush fires of "incandescent rage" -- to coin a phrase or two from Indviisible co-founder and leader, Ezra Levin -- are burning bright, as this economy tour from Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer's Facebook timeline suggests: 

"Don't cave in those premium tax credits are very important. It allows me to receive good health care as a self-employed individual. One year would give us the opportunity to plan."

"Explain how caving on the only leverage you have is fighting?"

"Guess they didn't understand the assignment, after those big wins on Tuesday."

"I see a primary challenger in your future. They will win."

"If caving is fighting, you're Muhammad Ali."

"If we had fought like (this) in 1941, we'd all be speaking Japanese right now."

"If you can't hold your coalition together, then you need to step down, and let someone who knows how to lead take the reins."


"Is this another example of your strongly worded letter(s)?"

"It's time for new leadership. We need younger leadership with bigger ideas that are willing to take it to Hell to fight for us."

"This was the fight. You gave in."

As the cliche goes -- tough room, right?


<A snapshot of the incandescent rage,
lighting up that Merrie Olde Internet...>

<ii.>
Good thing Uncle Chuck wasn't a standup comedian, or he'd have to find some other occupation, fast. Well, actually, he did
-- this is who we're stuck with right now, as a face of the Democratic Party. Given the current dynamics, somewhere out in Standup Comedy Heaven, Desi Arnaz's distinctive accent is ringing out, loud and clear:


"Chuck-k-k-y-y-y! 
You got some 'splainin to do!" 

Progressives, meanwhile, who watched the horror of the Democratic Party's latest epic climbdown are left to shout this all too familiar refrain:

"Ai-yi-yi-yi-yyyiii!" 

All jokes apart, however, I'd support AOC's observation that the party's problems go way beyond one person. Uncle Chuck's passive aggressive combat stance, his lifelong risk aversiveness, and lack of timing are all too visible sins that we've seen  over his decades on the national stage. It's the same old soggy shit sandwich that Democratic base voters are expected to swallow, over and over and over again, stamped with their party's signature shrugs of learned helplessness: "Hey, what did you expect? We did the best we could."

That said, in the spirit of course correction, we offer some pertinent observations, for whoever wants to take them -- maybe some higher-up, maybe some staffer connected to them, or God knows, even Uncle Chuck himself, and his higher-profile cohorts -- so they may have their Jacob Marley moment, and get all those unforced errors out of their system, once and for all. Because, the way our democracy continues to backslide, we can't afford too many more.

<Resistance Works Best 
When Everyone Does It>
If it hasn't been said before, whoever's sitting in the room should say it out loud right now: a resistance can't function if everyone does their own thing. One of the striking features of the second Trump era is how many players have yet to learn that lesson. If reports are correct, the Rogue Eight Democratic Senators who joined Republicans in reopening the government seemed bent on that outcome from the start; progressives apparently banked on public furor keeping them onboard.

They guessed wrong, but the lesson is clear enough, as any number of historic examples tell us. One of the classic examples is the British miners' strike of 1984, which wasn't universally observed -- especially in the Nottinghamshire region, whose coal pits ranked among the most profitable, with the best-paid miners. Workers there refused to join their counterparts, convinced that Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher would never dare to close them. Of course, once the miners gave in, the Iron Lady rewarded their backwards devotion by ensuring they were the first pits to shut down.

<Set Clear Goals 
& Expectations>
Government shutdowns, when they do happen, are bare-knuckled, ball-breaking, brutal affairs. Some commentators have suggested that caving to Republican demands -- voting for the so-called continuing resolution that locks in the Medicare cuts, and other ghastly aspects of their so-called "Big Beautiful Bill," rammed through earlier this year -- was the only option. They weren't going to negotiate on extending the Affordable Care Act subsidies at the centerpiece of the shutdown fight, so why bother with it?

Friends and relatives who work for the feds have suggested likewise to me, saying that an extended standoff wasn't worth continuing to miss paychecks, racking up debt, or risking foreclosure. Then why drag them through those ordeals, without some well-defined red lines, and an appropriate endgame? Giving up the "good fight" after such a lengthy tussle (43 days) only makes the morning after taste all the sourer.

<Timing Is Everything>
If the shutdown's end is a Schumer move, it would mark the second time he's struggled with that issue. Knowing when to keep the powder dry (or not) is among the trickiest skills for any politician to master, as we saw in March, when Uncle Chuck tripped over himself to announce -- a full day, no less, before the proverbial five minutes to midnight deadline -- that Democrats wouldn't trigger a shutdown.

The fallout is even stickier this time, coming after a nationwide electoral rout of Republicans serving a certain orange cult leader, whose numbers continue to drop. Surely, didn't those volunteers who worked to ensure the marquee candidates' victories -- Mamdani, Sherrill, and Spanberger, plus their state and local counterparts -- deserve better? Apparently, Uncle Chuck fretted about this issue, too, telling his defectors to wait at least until after Election Day passed -- or risk depressing turnout. Otherwise, the donkey party's latest climbdown would have looked even ghastlier than it eventually did.

<Treat Hardship
As A Feature, Not A Bug>
We've already addressed this issue, but the point bears repeating. No major anti-authoritarian movement can succeed when it fractures, whether through circumstances, or some "other shoe" dropping on them from above. When we talk about outright autocracies, the unpleasant reality is that a fearsome toll often accompanies their overthrow. 

Examples abound, like the Romanian Revolution of 1989, which claimed 1,104 lives in the struggle to end Nicole Ceaucescu's long-standing tyranny. That's simply the acknowledged total; some estimates place it closer to 4,000 or 5,000 people, though we'll never know for sure. Such numbers stand as a reminder that the demise of autocracy carries a significant cost. Or, to put it another way, if all Trump has to do is squeeze his opponents' belies, to ensure the appropriate degree of submission ("Please don't hurt me, I give up, I give up") from them, then all this so-called resistance ends being only so much performative kayfabe.

<
Underline Yer Redlines,
Then Stick To Them>
One aspect that bears repeating, and didn't get well reported, is that Democratic messaging remains as inconsistent as ever. Just look how their so-called "redlines" progressively shrank, as the shutdown unfolded. The ACA extensions merely ended up as the last redline standing, once Democratic leaders ditched their other big demands, including an end to Trump's so-called "pocket recissions" ("F#ck the power of the purse, I'll spend whatever funds you approved, only on programs that I approve"), and a reversal of the Medicaid cuts and food aid work requirements (courtesy of the "Big Ugly Bill").

The unpopularity of all these items offered a real opportunity to talk about the pathology behind them, and who's responsible for it, which leading Democrats did, to some degree, only to jettison those redlines, one by one, when the Republicans refused to engage. But that's a given with them; they don't like people pressing them to the wall, as AOC, Ro Khanna, and Tim Walz did so creatively, by holding town halls in red states whose representatives went into hiding. 

No such efforts happened this time, leaving Democrats to settle for the promise of a mid-December vote on potentially extending the subsidies, with no such commitments offered on the House side.  Which begs the question, how much negotiation did anybody actually do here? Because it sure doesn't look that way to the rank and file.

<Visions Mean Something>
One other notable takeaway is how much the Democratic Party still defines itself in reactive opposition to Trump. If someone's working up a Project 2029 for them, I haven't seen it. Aside from progressive circles, we have yet to hear Democrats offer a positive alternate, as to what kind of future they want to see -- because Trump won't be around forever, as much as he's hoping to prove otherwise, and his personality cult will likely die with him. 

This hard fact leaves a major opening to move beyond mere triage and sweep up the mess, as Democrats found themselves doing after the Reagan and Bush eras. If nothing else, the Trump era exposed the rotten underpinnings of the half-hearted neoliberalism that the donkey party embraced as the magic elixir to solving all tis problems -- and until Democrats finally part company with it, major social progress will remain "but a fleeting illusion, to be pursued, but never attained" (Bob Marley, "War").

<Workarounds Are Worth
The Price Of Admission>
Last, but not least, until Democrats move beyond the tired "percentage football" game they seem content to play -- three tries, then punt -- it's hard to imagine them capitalizing on a midterm 2026 wipeout, assuming that the Republicans will accept the results of one. Mobilizing public opinion is one of the keystones of any post-Trump strategy, which makes the eight rogue Senators' refusal to embrace it all the more head-scratching and infuriating -- none more so than Angus King, who moaned, "Standing up to Trump didn't work."

It's the sort of clueless response that begs the question, "Well, then what exactly is your job, if you don't feel like fighting back?" Hopefully, Mainers will finally retire King when his next election comes up, because if this fight demonstrated anything, it's that the younger generation needs to occupy those types of leadership roles, more than ever -- and sooner, not later.

Because people are tired of hearing that same old broken record ("We can't. We can't. We can't."), from the same old people continuing to play it. They deserve better refrains than that singularly monotonous signature refrain of failure after failure, excuse after excuse, without nothing to show for it, except the latest litany of promises, which will be broken as soon as the ink dries.



<Ain't that the truth?
Cue the cliche: yup, yup, and yup, again...>



<Coda>
The Trauma Man, Russ Vought, will come back swinging his scythe, with yet another agency or department in his sights, as millions of Americans stand to lose their food stamps or their health insurance coverage, knowing full well that no cavalry is coming to relieve their misery -- at least right away. Trump can once again gloat that he forced his enemies, real or imagined, to give in without giving up anything in return.

And as for the Rogue Eight, I leave them with these words from Martin Luther King to ring forever in their ears, loudly and long, as their last-minute act of treachery looms forever large, words that seem more relevant than ever today: 

“Courage is an inner resolution to go forward despite obstacles. Cowardice is submissive surrender to circumstances. Courage breeds creativity; Cowardice represses fear, and is mastered by it. Cowardice asks the question, 'Is it safe?' Expediency asks the question, 'Is it politic?' Vanity asks the question, 'Is it popular?' But conscience asks the question, 'Is it right?'" 

We'll see who actually learns these lessons Time will tell, soon enough.--The Reckoner



Sunday, March 23, 2025

Note To Democratic Leaders: Public Sentiment Is Everything


<Stephen Colbert offers
some friendly unsolicited advice for Democrats:
Yahoo News>


<i.>
"Public sentiment is everything." Four words, so simple, and so undeniably powerful; few sayings are so succinctly phrased, and yet, ring out, so stark and so unsparing, in their logic. Former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi often cited these words, originating from President Abraham Lincoln, as an example during Trump 1.0, of how the Resistance should go about its business. Depending on her mood, she sometimes cited the remainder of the quote, which is every bit as relevant: "With public sentiment, nothing can fail. Without it, nothing can succeed."

These words bear repeating, especially in light of the backlash that greeted Democratic Minority Leader Charles Schumer's recent announcement that he didn't intend to shut down the government -- which seemed technically doable, since eight of his colleagues would have to help Republicans get the so-called CR (continuing resolution) over the finish line.

With so much bitterness aroused by Trump's relentless power grabs -- coupled with the inhumanity of the CR's contents, as rubber-stamped by the House Republicans -- a little bit of suspense seemed natural. Things are different now, the whispers ran. This time, it's different. Senate Democrats are really gonna show some good old-fashioned gumption, and not get along to go along. Why should they, if the Republicans ignore it, as soon as the ink is dry on the agreement?

For a fleeting moment, it seemed that Schumer and his cohorts might do the unthinkable, and flip the script, just this once. Yet nobody knew how fleeting, it seems, since Democrats voted for that damned CR anyway (Friday, March 14th). Ten Democrats crossed the picket line, so to speak, in helping their Republican cohorts muscle the CR across the finish line.

Those optics were bad enough. But the spectacle looked even more damaging, when Schumer announced the day before (Thursday, March 13th) that his party wouldn't put up a fight. With no resistance forthcoming, everyone could vote as they pleased, which they did -- as he'd apparently planned, all along.

We'll revisit the relevant justifications in due course. Suffice to say, however, that the Democratic base remains utterly dumbfounded, and unforgiving. Those feelings are undoubtedly aggravated by the more disquieting news of book tours that Schumer and his House cohort, Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries, had already lined up for their respective passion projects (a historical overview of anti-Semitism, and a children's book, The ABC's of Democracy; they won't probably need the remaining letters, if indeed, it disappears).

Because our long-standing democratic experiment may be slipping away before our eyes, yet even amid the steady creep towards autocracy, every author needs to promote his product, right? The mind boggles. Apparently, Jeffries squeezed in a few appearances, while Schumer was forced to scuttle his competing effort -- amid death threats, and pleasant little rejoinders like some of these, posted on his Facebook page:

"DO SOMETHING. STOP FREAKING POSTING AND ACT."

"Find your spine! You didn't even get anything for it. Judas got 30 pieces of silver at least. Disappointed. Just resign. You are the modern day Neville Chamberlain and we needed a Churchill to fight."

"Oh, you are still here? I thought your spine dissolved, and you went with it."

"Since doing something isn't your thing, just pass the torch to someone that will fight for us, instead of making crappy deals, and kowtowing to the right."

"We're waiting for your plan to oppose it."

"You've already made it impossible for young adults to afford homes. Don't forget to blame yourself too."

"You are no match for what our times demand. Step down."


And those were some of the more printable responses! Like the man with the stovepipe hat said: "Public sentiment is everything." How does that work out in practice, though? Let's look at a case study or two.


<Bob Dylan, laying it down
at Clinton Correctional Facility:
Swingin' Pig (YouTube capture)>


<ii.>
I couldn't help but contrast last week's debacle with a different situation from the '70s -- Bob Dylan's song "Hurricane," which raised awareness of the wrongful convictions of middleweight boxer Rubin "Hurricane" Carter, and John Artis, for a triple homicide at a Paterson, NJ bar in 1966.

Artis won his freedom on parole, in 1981, while Carter had to wait for a federal judge to overturn his conviction four years later. Prosecutors appealed, only to abandon their efforts in 1988, when the US Supreme Court declined to hear the case. Carter went free, and promptly moved to Canada, where he became a citizen -- there's a moral in that somewhere -- and spent the rest of his life advocating for other wrongly convicted and imprisoned people. He died, at 76, of prostate cancer in 2014.

Those are the basic facts, which director-producer Joel Gilbert explores brilliantly in his four-hour documentary, "Bob Dylan 1975-1981: Rolling Thunder & Gospel Years." Gilbert opens with the story with how Dylan started crafting the song, after Carter sent him a copy of his book, The Sixteenth Round.

Carter sent the book detailing his unfortunate experiences to Dylan because of the singer's full-throated support of civil rights in the 1960s. And it didn't take long for "Hurricane" to take on a life of its own, in ways that neither man could ever have imagined.

My favorite example focused on the circumstances surrounding Dylan's performance of the song at Trenton State Prison, on December 7, 1975, which proved noteworthy, for several reasons. First, because the venue was a women's prison -- where the state of New Jersey, jittery of the public blowback, had temporarily shunted Carter. Second, because once the word got out, frenzied Dylan fans actually tried to scale the fence, in hopes of sneaking inside, to hear him! 

Whoever heard of anyone breaking
into a prison? "Only Bob Dylan," I told myself," could inspire such a reaction." It made me laugh my ass off, and will evoke the same response, if you see the film. Third, and most critically, the show enabled Carter to break his isolation, since the guards allowed him to hear the proceedings over a phone extension -- where he briefly addressed the crowd, and provided a powerful reminder of his presence against a legal system that was trying to bury it.

But Dylan was hardly the only high profile supporter, as it happened. Another powerful example came from Muhammad Ali, who'd lost three years of his boxing career over his refusal to be inducted into the US Army. He used an unlikely forum ("The Tonight Show") in September 1973, to wish Carter good luck on his appeal, as he prepared to launch it.

It's also interesting to note that Dylan experienced his share of setbacks, as the film notes. Libel concerns from CBS's lawyers forced Dylan to change some lyrics, and ultimately, rerecord the entire song for his Desire album, due to mic leakage issues that precluded him from simply "punching in" the relevant phrases. A pair of benefits ended as a mixed bag, with the New York outing raising $100,000 -- while a comparable effort in Houston raised nothing, once all the expenses were subtracted.

Yet Dylan never wavered in his belief, as the film explains, that "Hurricane" would become a landmark song. Imagine if he'd approached that task like Schumer and his Democratic cohorts plot strategy: "What if nobody gets this song? What if the cops end up suing me? What if my fans still think he's guilty? What if he loses his appeal, and never gets to leave the slammer?" 

Thankfully, he didn't. Without any guarantee of success, Dylan kept his head down, and kept on keepin' on, I imagine that the authorities probably figured the jig was up, the minute they climbed the fence, even if it took another lengthy round of appeals for them to figure out. But it's fair to say, without Dylan's involvement -- and Muhammad Ali, and whoever else lent their name to it -- Carter might have waited a lot longer to win back his freedom, or never regained it at all. 

The donkey party could learn a trick or two here, because, remember -- public sentiment is everything.



<John & Yoko, at the "Free John Now" rally, 12/10/71:
Public domain:University of Michigan yearbook,
The Michiganensian, 1972>


<iii.>
The other relevant case study stares at me from under my desk, where the "to read" pile competes fiercely with the "just read" and "reread, yet again" pilesGuitar Army is a featured pick from the last pile, serving as a DIY collection of John Sinclair's columns, essays, press releases, and other writings. If you want a sense of his contributions to the MC5, and the counterculture, Guitar Army offers a great place to start.

Two of my favorite essays are "Poet Is Priest," and "Rainbow Power!", which lay out an eloquent case against the musical/political complexes that John campaigned against, all his life. I don't have to look far for a suitably inspirational quote, such as this one, from the latter essay: "If we live as individuals, or as fragmented little groups, each concerned only with its immediate little interests, we don't have any power at all, and the imperialist vampires and the snakes, rats and pigs who work with them can manipulate us at will." 

The most dramatic application of that principle followed the "John Sinclair Freedom Rally," which drew 15,000 people to Ann Arbor's Crisler Arena, on December 10, 1971. Organizers struggled to sell tickets for the event meant to raise awareness of Sinclair's own legal plight -- the 9 1/2- to 10-year sentence he'd drawn, for selling two joints to a female undercover officer -- that is, until John Lennon and Yoko Ono agreed to appear. 


Overnight, the show changed from an uncertain proposition -- "This is a total bomb you have on your hands," warned the eventual organizer/promoter, Peter Andrews,  (see link below) -- to one of the counterculture's last great defining moments, before the militant mellowness and shallow cynicism that defined the '70s spread like a virus, and took hold for good. 

By most accounts, the musical lineup made a stronger impression, than the all-star speakers who'd been lined up -- particularly Phil Ochs, who performed a newly-written song dedicated to a certain rogue inhabitant of the White House ("Here's to the land you've torn the heart out of/Richard Nixon, find yourself another country to be part of"), and an unannounced surprise guest, Stevie Wonder, whose set raised the energy levels considerably. Sinclair also made an impromptu appearance, speaking from prison, by phone -- just what made those '70s-era jailers so generous? -- a moment that served to underscore the event's purpose.

John and Yoko rounded out the proceedings with a 15-minute unplugged set, backed by an improvised folk ensemble. Characteristically, the ex-Beatle chose to play four new songs -- soon to grace his next album, Some Time In New York City (1972). They closed with "John Sinclair," his ode to the man of the hour, whose case would now prove impossible to ignore ("They gave him ten for two/What else can Judge Colombo do?").

Indeed, they didn't. The day before the rally, the Michigan Senate passed a bill that drastically reduced penalties for marijuana possession, and then -- a mere three days later -- the Michigan Supreme Court granted bail to Sinclair, as he continued to appeal his case. He eventually won a significant legal victory in 1972, when the US Supreme Court ruled, in an unrelated case, that the government could not use evidence against him gained via illegal wiretapping.

Can you imagine such a ruling in our current climate, whose high court obligingly crafted an infinite immunity right for its Chief Executive -- or, excuse me, "unitary executive" -- out of thin air, as long as he claims to wear his presidential hat? Like all power brokers before him, Chief Justice John Roberts will come to bitterly regret opening that door, even if he prefers to erode our rights at a slower pace than his bomb-throwing, ultra-reactionary cohorts.

In any case, our chief takeaways here are the same as the "Hurricane" situation. The Michigan justices claimed their ruling simply came in response to the Michigan Senate's actions, yet the coincidence is impossible to overlook. Having denied six of Sinclair's previous appeals, they had no incentive to hand him a win at this stage of the game, especially with his jailers in no hurry to let go of their prize trophy.

Before the rally sold out, nobody had any reason to believe that the wider world cared about John Sinclair's case, nor the causes that he espoused. And, until John and Yoko agreed to appear, there was no reason to expect more than a modest turnout that might or might not raise funds for Sinclair's legal bills. 

Although Andrews lost his job at the university -- and John and Yoko didn't get to pursue their dreams of a cross-country tour, to rally the newly-minted youth vote against Nixon's re-election -- what matters is the energy that the rally jump-started, a force that allowed the players to get beyond the standard refrain ("We can't") to, "We can, and will, because we must." Collective action works wonders that way.

That certainly proved the big takeaway for John Sinclair, as he writes in "Free At Last," a snapshot of the emotions that followed his release: "Because what we did was to show the dinosaurs that we can't be separated off and apart from each other, that we really are a whole thing which cannot be broken, that we can come together and move together to force changes where the control addicts think they've got us safely in our places, right?"

Indeed, this is the reality that keeps those control freaks awake at night. The day that people finally internalize that idea, and act on it, is the day they become irrelevant. How many Trabants sold after the collapse of East Germany's Communist regime? How many Teslas will continue to sell, as more and more of their owners don't want to go "from zero to 1939, in three seconds?" Draw your own conclusions, because public sentiment is everything.



"I saw ya!" 
(Or Fill in the CREEM-style caption
of your choice here.)

<Dylan in a rowdy mood,
Clinton Correctional Facility: 
Swingin' Pig, YouTube capture>


<iv.>
So just where do these case studies leave us, and what lessons can we learn from them? Did Chuck Schumer do the right thing, in backing down, as he did? He cited the millions of federal workers -- whose job status zigzags from fired, to re-hired, then sidelined, or fired, yet again -- as one reason. 
He further suggested that a government shutdown might have accelerated Trump's power grabs, for which his party lacked an endgame. Still other commenters speculated that Schumer might be saving his powder for the next potential flashpoint in June, when Congress will have to act on raising the debt ceiling.

Such technical arguments hold varying degrees of merit, though how effectively they rally the troops is an entirely different matter. Judging by the comments on Schumer's Facebook page, I doubt he's winning over many, or any of them
 -- because public sentiment is everything. For that matter, so is timing. Which record would you rather buy? "Free John Now," or "Free John Later?" I rest my case.

The Hurricane Carter and John Sinclair cases tell us something else. The responses they evoked had nothing to do with focus groups and pressers, or appearances on Sunday shows that fewer and fewer of us bother to watch anymore. They had nothing to do with waiting for some higher court to take pity, and issue another restraining order -- more legal catnip, perhaps, for Trump and his minions to ignore, as they've begun publicly suggesting, with increasingly.

Nor did they draw their inspiration from some far-off event -- a lawsuit here, a midterm election there -- that might finally make our lives bearable again, and restore some type of common decency. 
What's striking, though, is how many refuse to learn these lessons, as Columbia University has shown, in buckling to a laundry list of Trump demands (see link below). Neither did the Paul Weiss legal firm, in agreeing donate $40 million worth of legal work for Trump's causes.

Such arrangements, by any other name, should called for what they are: protection money. The trouble with them is that the price of protection always goes up, up, and out of sight, as the bully returns, bearing a list of new demands, leaving him free to leisurely pick off his opponents, one by one. 

However, if the Democrats want to avoid this grisly fate, they might do well to ponder what Kamala Harris's running mate, Tim Walz, observed, during an alternative town hall that he hosted in Iowa: "“There's a responsibility in this time of chaos where elected officials need to hear what people are irritated about. And I would argue that Democratic officials should hear the primal scream that's coming from America, (which) is, ‘Do something, dammit! This is wrong!’”

Which means, in other words, to start from the beginning. Get out of that permanent defensive crouch, and fan out across America, making the case that Republicans don't want their constituents to hear -- that we exist solely to toil for their billionaire donor buddies, just as our descendants did a century or so ago, when inequities existed at levels that would stagger the modern imagination.

The AOC/Bernie Sanders speaking tour, coupled with the handful of Democrats crashing Republican districts, is a great start -- but they need many, many more of their cohorts to join them, to make a major impression. The textbook example is the Democrats' response to Trump's joint address, whether you talk about their tiny signs, the womens' pink outfits, or the failure of Al Green's colleagues to follow after he got ejected, while the rest looked on, like grumpy kids enduring their detention. It was all over the place. And looked like it.

Let's lock the consulting class in the closets that they so richly deserve, and stop fixating so obsessively on playing percentages -- which move will succeed, more than 50% of the time, or won't? If Hurricane Carter or John Sinclair had started that way, their respective fights for freedom would have never gotten off the ground! If history teaches us anything, it's that the cause of justice never unfolds like some carefully calibrated game, at the measured pace of a championship chess match. It's quite the opposite, in fact.

Let's ditch the convoluted technical arguments, and de-emphasize all that elaborate, PBS-style jargon that sends voters off to an early bed, and finally start tapping into that primal scream, as Bob Dylan and John Sinclair did so effectively, a generation ago. And maybe then, there might still be a democracy left to save. Because public sentiment is everything. --The Reckoner


Links To Go (Learn A Lesson From The Past):
Ann Arbor Chronicle: The Day A Beatle Came To Town:
https://annarborchronicle.com/2009/12/27/the-day-a-beatle-came-to-town/index.html

John Lennon: John Sinclair Rally Set (Ten For Two):

The Guardian: Columbia Should Have Said, "See You In Court":
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/mar/22/columbia-university-trump-demands



Friday, October 25, 2013

Just Who Is The Five O'Clock Hero? (Not The Political & Professional Classes: They Still HAVE Jobs)


"Hello, darlin', I'm home again
                        Covered in shit and aches and pains

Too knackered to think, so give me time to come round
                                                                   Just gimme the living room beat to the TV sound"

("Just Who Is The Five O'Clock Hero?")


In our previous post ("Going Underground: Five Signs That We're Marching Backwards In Time"), we cited five essential statistics that document the continual unraveling of America's social fabric.

Now comes another sign that America's unwillingness to put a stake through its never-ending voodoo economic experiment isn't paying off -- in this case, via the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics' unemployment summary for September, which showed the economy adding a mere 148,000 jobs.

And what did we learn about the "official" unemployment rate? At 7.2 percent, it's largely unchanged

Number of long-term unemployed (27 weeks or more)? At 4.1 million, largely unchanged. Labor force participation rate? At 63.2 percent, largely unchanged

Number of people forced to work part-time, for purely economic reasons? At 7.9 million, largely unchanged


If this sounds like your definition of success...you need to have your head examined. For the rest of the story, go here: http://www.bls.gov/news.release/empsit.nr0.htm





"My hard earned dough goes in bills and the larder
                            And that Prince Philip tells us we gotta work harder
It seems a constant struggle just to exist
Scrimping and saving and crossing of lists"



When I saw the bureau's release, I immediately thought of this slow-burning lament to the common man, if you like, written by Paul Weller in tribute to the "real heroes" of Britain -- "the ordinary geezer or girl...who works 9 till 5 keeping the country going by working in [a] food shop or clothes factory..." (Mike Nicholls: About The Young Idea: The Story Of The Jam 1972-1982, p. 102).

Mind you, the common man has proven all too easy to lionize in contemporary pop culture -- as numerous second- and third-division street punk bands have shown -- but the lyrics quoted throughout this post ring all too true today. In just two minutes and 15 seconds, Weller lays bare the dilemma that all too many of us are now experiencing, of "scrimping and saving, and crossing off lists.

Originally imported from Holland, the song reached #8 on the UK charts in the summer of 1982, and became a standby of the band's subsequent "Trans-Global Unity Express" tour. It's heartening to hear that Weller has recently begun performing the song again on his own, albeit at a slower-burning pace than the original tempo. 

The mood and lyrics remind me of an equally timely observation from University of Michigan economist Sheldon Danziger: "Many Americans continue to think that a rising tide lifts all boats. But the bad news is that given the way economic growth trickles down now, the number of poor and disadvantaged will remain high unless we do more to help those in need." 

Perhaps he was thinking about the number of Americans living in poverty, according to the U.S. Census Bureau's own dismal figures for September: at 46.5 million, largely unchanged.




"From this window I've seen the whole world pass
                  From dawn to dusk I've heard the last laugh laughed
I've seen enough tears to wash away this street
I've heard wedding bells chime and a funeral march"

Now that the U.S. government shutdown finally ran its course -- after 16 slash 'n' burning days -- what's even more striking is the utter lack of ideas on display.

Republicans remain firmly wedded to their supply-side gospel, which is repeated as devoutly as the rosary; most of their Democratic peers cling to an equally moth-eaten mantra of "rising-tides-lift-all-boats"...even though the yacht, figuratively speaking, has long pulled out of the harbor (and left everyone else to drown in the resulting wake).


Before the shutdown flared up, 34 percent of participants in a CBS/New York Times poll identified jobs and the economy as "the most important problem facing the country today". By contrast, just 8 percent mentioned health care, and 6 percent, the deficit -- the two issues that defined President Obama's latest steel-cage encounter with his equally clueless antagonists. Can we say disconnect, anyone?





"When as one life finishes another one starts
             Alright then, love, so I'll be off now
                         It's back to the lunch box and worker-management rows
There's gotta be more to this old life then this
Scrimping and saving and crossing of lists"


As the above poll suggests, the people below have already figured out what the decision-makers above seem unwilling to grasp. Yes, the deficit is a major problem, but if you haven't worked in awhile, or can't get past part-time or temp status, you're unlikely to break out the confetti, if Congress cooks up a "grand bargain" that's proven elusive (at best) and wishful thinking (at worst).

An entire generation is being lost, written off and consigned to the margins of oblivion, while the political class diddles and fiddles, dithers and slithers, fritters and twitters, stumbles and fumbles, all too accustomed to the contours of tailored "power" suits, lifetime benefits and never-ending perks and privileges. Recall how they kept their own paychecks going during the shutdown, while the statisticians responsible for tracking the social train wrecks that they let loose were sitting idle at home. The irony needs no elaboration.

And so it goes, on and on and on and on and on, without a hint of change in the air...but if we don't take it upon ourselves to put pressure on those who need it most, we all know how this particular movie will end. -- The Reckoner

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Fix Syria--Can't Even Fix Detroit


Maybe if America spent less money trying to go to war with endless other countries and advance globalism, and  Americans took care of their own country for once instead of messing around with endless other ones, there wouldn't be a government shut-down. Did anyone notice that just weeks after we supposedly had money to go to war with Syria, they did the government shut down thing?---The Squawker