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  • Presty the DJ for Feb. 29

    February 29, 2020
    Music

    As you can imagine with a date that occurs only every four years, not much happened today in music.

    Today in 1968, the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” won album of the year at the Grammys:

    The number one single today in 1992:

    Besides our fat chihuahua Leo, birthdays begin with Jimmy Dorsey …

    … and end with Gretchen Christopher of the Fleetwoods:

    Two deaths of note today: Songwriter Wes Farrell in 1996 …

    …and Mike Smith of the Dave Clark Five in 2008:

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  • An author of my youth

    February 28, 2020
    media

    The New York Times:

    Clive Cussler, the author and maritime adventurer who captivated millions with his best-selling tales of suspense and who, between books, led scores of expeditions to find historic shipwrecks and lost treasures in the ocean depths, died on Monday at his home in Scottsdale, Ariz. He was 88.

    His death was confirmed by a spokeswoman for his publisher, Penguin Random House. No specific cause was given.

    Mayan jungles, undersea kingdoms, ghost ships, evil forces out to destroy the world, beautiful women, heroes modeled on himself — Mr. Cussler’s vivid literary fantasies and his larger-than-life exploits swirled together for four decades, spinning off more than 85 books and locating almost as many shipwrecks.

    A college dropout who once pumped gas and wrote advertising copy, Mr. Cussler resorted to a hoax to get his first book published. But his work — mostly action thrillers of the James Bond-Indiana Jones kind, plus nonfiction accounts of his marine quests and a few children’s books — made him a global celebrity.

    His book sales have been staggering — more than 100 million copies, with vast numbers sold in paperback at airports. Translated into 40 or so languages, his books reached The New York Times’s best-seller lists more than 20 times, as he amassed a fortune estimated at $80 million.

    Mr. Cussler looked like the hero of Hemingway’s “The Old Man and the Sea.” You had to imagine the battered straw hat and the tired shoulders hunched over a gunwale, but after years of roaming oceans and diving for wrecks, he had that seafarer’s husky build and sunburned cheeks, and his face, more sea dog than bibliophile, was flecked with gray: the grizzled beard, the mustache, the eyes, the gray-white hair.

    Often compared to the thrillers churned out by Tom Clancy, Robert Ludlum and Ian Fleming, the Cussler novels featured formulaic plots, one- or two-word titles (“Cyclops,” “Dragon,” “Inca Gold,” “Poseidon’s Arrow”) and frequently a recurring hero, Dirk Pitt, an undersea explorer who cheats death and saves the world as he foils the diabolical plots of megalomaniac villains, while satisfying his taste for exotic cars and lusty women.

    For the aforementioned reasons, I inhaled Cussler novels for years in high school and college, as with Clancy’s and Ludlum’s works. I also read Fleming’s works until I figured out that his novels didn’t match the movies that much.

    Mr. Cussler was hardly a stylist. Critics called his characters wooden, his dialogue leaden and his prose clichéd (“the cold touch of fear,” “a narrow brush with death”), while praising his descriptions of marine hardware, underwater struggles and salvage operations. But readers were swept along on the page-turning tides, and after his commercial breakthrough, “Raise the Titanic!” (1976), his books were frequently on the best-seller lists for months.

    Mr. Cussler also connected with readers by turning his love for scuba diving into an oceanic lifestyle that paralleled and validated his superhero.

    He first created the National Underwater and Marine Agency as a fictional government organization that employed his hero in the Dirk Pitt books. Then, in 1979, he founded an actual National Underwater and Marine Agency as a private nonprofit group committed to “preserving maritime heritage through the discovery, archaeological survey and conservation of shipwreck artifacts.” It underwrote his maritime ventures.

    With Mr. Cussler leading expeditions and joining dives, the organization eventually located some 60 wrecks. Among them were the Cunard steamship Carpathia, first to reach survivors of the lost Titanic on April 15, 1912, then itself sunk by German torpedoes off Ireland in 1918; Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt’s coastal steamer Lexington, which caught fire and went down in Long Island Sound in 1840; and Manassas, the Confederacy’s first Civil War ironclad, sunk in battle in the Lower Mississippi in 1862.

    His first nonfiction book, “The Sea Hunters” (1996, with Craig Dirgo), was an account of his NUMA exploits, some of which were portrayed in television documentaries featuring Mr. Cussler as narrator. Valuable artifacts raised by his expeditions were given to museums or governments.

    Mr. Cussler, who named his franchise hero after his son Dirk, acknowledged that Dirk Pitt’s character was his own alter ego. His later novels, many co-written by his son or others, often included himself as a character who saves the day. His son, a daughter and friends were also used as characters in his books.

    “I’ve been doing Dirk Pitt for 30 years,” Mr. Cussler told The Times in 2000. “Maybe I can find another writer down the line to take him over. It’s not the money; it’s the fans.

    “I’d like to retire,” he continued. “I’m toying with the idea of Pitt having a son who shows up. He’s getting a little long in the tooth. When we started out, we were both 36 years old. Now he’s a little over 40, and I’m pushing 70.”

    But 20 years later, he was still churning out books, sometimes two a year. His 85th, “Journey of the Pharaohs: A Novel From the NUMA Files,” written with Graham Brown, is scheduled to be published in March. The Penguin Random House spokeswoman said there are others to be published after that.

    Cussler came up with an interesting way to change the Dirk Pitt novels. Though The Mediterranean Caper was his first published novel (which I think I read in middle school), the first novel he wrote was Pacific Vortex! (Exclamation point not mine.) As the publisher’s website puts it, “In a furious race against time, Pitt’s mission swirls him into a battle with underwater assassins-and traps him in the arms of Summer Moran, the most stunningly exotic and dangerous toward disaster, onto an ancient sunken island—the astonishing setting for the explosive climax of Pacific Vortex!”

    Spoiler alerts: Summer dies … or so the reader thinks. Several novels later, at the end of Valhalla Rising, “though many lives will be lost, and many saved, it is Pitt’s own life that will be changed forever …” (which itself is a tipoff that Pitt isn’t really in danger of dying in this book) by the appearance of Dirk and Summer Pitt, the old Dirk’s twin children who were conceived during Pacific Vortex! with mother Summer. They then are part of the following novels with old Dirk having learned the unintended consequences of associating with “lusty women” and settling down with one of those lusty women, who appeared first in Vixen 03. (Again, you can see why “exotic cars and lusty women” would appeal to a high school reader.)

    Clive Eric Cussler was born in Aurora, Ill., on July 15, 1931, the only child of Eric and Amy Hunnewell Cussler. His father was an accountant. Clive grew up in Alhambra, Calif., a poor student but an avid reader of adventure stories.

    “I detested school,” he told Publishers Weekly in 1994. “I was always the kid who was staring out the window. While the teacher was lecturing on algebra, I was on the deck of a pirate ship or in an airplane shooting down the Red Baron.”

    He attended Pasadena City College briefly, but left to join the Air Force when the Korean War began in 1950. He became a mechanic, flew supply missions in the Pacific but never saw combat. While stationed in Hawaii, he learned scuba diving and explored underwater wrecks. He mustered out as a sergeant.

    In 1955, he married Barbara Knight. They had three children, Teri, Dirk and Dayna. His wife died in 2003. He later married Janet Horvath, who survives him, along with his children, four grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.

    In California, Mr. Cussler pumped gas, wrote advertising copy and, from 1961 to 1965, co-owned Bestgen & Cussler Advertising in Newport Beach. Later, at the D’Arcy agency in Hollywood, he won several awards.

    From 1967 to 1969 he was advertising director of Aquatic Marine Corporation in Newport Beach. In 1970, he joined Mefford, Wolff and Weir Advertising in Denver, where he became a vice president and creative director.

    He began writing fiction at home in the late 60s, but his first two books, “Pacific Vortex” and “The Mediterranean Caper,” were repeatedly rejected. Unable even to get an agent, he staged a hoax. Using the letterhead of a fictitious writers’ agency, he wrote to the agent Peter Lampack, posing as an old colleague about to retire and overloaded with work. He enclosed copies of his manuscripts, citing their potential.

    It worked. “Where can I sign Clive Cussler?” Mr. Lampack wrote back. In 1973, “The Mediterranean Caper” was published, followed by “Iceberg” (1975) and “Raise the Titanic!” (1976).

    Despite an improbable plot and negative reviews, “Raise the Titanic!” sold 150,000 copies, was a Times best seller for six months and became a 1980 film starring Richard Jordan and Jason Robards Jr.

    While Dirk Pitt books appeared throughout his career, Mr. Cussler also wrote other series: “The NUMA Files,” featuring the hero Kurt Austin and written with Graham Brown or Paul Kemprecos; “The Fargo Adventures,” about husband-and-wife treasure hunters, written with Grant Blackwood or Thomas Perry; “The Oregon Files,” set on a high-tech spy ship disguised as a freighter, written with Jack DuBrul or Mr. Dirgo; and “The Isaac Bell Adventures,” about an early-20th-century detective, written with Justin Scott.

    His nonfiction included “Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt Revealed” (1998, with Mr. Dirgo) and “Built for Adventure: The Classic Automobiles of Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt” (2011). Mr. Cussler, who had homes in Arvada, Colo., and Paradise Valley, Ariz., restored vintage cars and had about 100 in his museum in Arvada, including a 1906 Stanley Steamer, a 1913 Marmon and a 1921 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost.

    It’s interesting how superheroes are now big in fiction (particularly on the screen), when Pitt represents, if not a superhero, then someone who can do far more than most people, not merely due to intelligence and strength, but because of a lack of such weaknesses as fear, pain and fatigue, while being immune to legal consequences. Lee Child’s Jack Reacher is possibly similar, though in the novels Reacher appears to be somewhereon the autism spectrum in human-interaction skills.

    Cussler, Ludlum and Clancy represent a subset of novelist who blends action and well-researched detail. The trend today in such writers as Mark Dawson seems to be toward action at the expense of anything else, including very much character development. Cussler also was part of the trend of being a brand-name author, something that has been taken to considerable lengths by James Patterson. (Then again, Tom Clancy still gets author credit on new books even though he is dead.)

    Cussler’s novels were you-can’t-put-this-down-once-you-start-reading books, first, in a sort-of near-future setting. Anyone who can successfully write fiction has to have a great imagination. Perhaps that’s why I remain unable to write fiction, though I have written probably tens of millions of words since I started writing for a living. (That and, as I’ve bemoaned before, my inability to create a plot for said fiction. If the plot points for a novel are lined up like the alphabet, I always get stuck around F.)

    Authors are always told to write what they know. I know journalism, but journalists are not superheroes (nor are bloggers or part-time sports announcers), and they are certainly not Men of Action!

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  • Ryan on Bobby

    February 28, 2020
    Badgers, History

    One of the great early-generation players in UW hockey history was Bobby Suter, a small yet fierce defenseman who played on the Badgers’ 1977 national championship team and the 1978 Frozen Four team.

    That’s how Badger fans know Suter, the second most penalized player in UW history, and the most penalized defenseman in UW history. (He also set a record by getting five points in a period in one game.)

    Everyone else in the hockey world knows Suter as a member of the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team, which is celebrating the 40th anniversary of the Miracle on Ice.

    Ryan Suter (who is second place in UW freshman-season penalties) knew Bobby Suter as Dad:

    When I was in the second grade, I did a pretty ridiculous thing. At the time, I didn’t know what I was doing. All my teachers kept asking me about this medal that my dad had at home. I had never seen it. I didn’t even understand what they were talking about.
    So I went home and I asked my dad, “Do you have a medal?”
    He said, “Yeah, it’s somewhere.”

    I said, “Can I bring it to school? Some teachers want to see it.”

    And he probably said something like, “Huh? The medal? Uhh … Yeah, let me find it.”

    A couple of days passed. Maybe even weeks. Eventually, my dad gave me this gold medal. It said LAKE PLACID 1980. So I popped it in my backpack and took it to school. I knew he had won it playing hockey, and I had heard some people in my family talking about “the Miracle,” but you know how it is when you hear those kind of family stories when you’re a kid. All that stuff is kind of like a myth. I mean, he was just my dad. Blue jeans and work boots, every day.

    I got to school with the medal, and I just shoved it inside my desk with all my papers and stuff. Then, at some point, we were doing show-and-tell, and all the kids were probably like, “Here’s a picture of our new puppy. Here’s a Lego thing I made …”

    And then I pulled the medal out, totally oblivious, like, Is this what you wanted me to bring in?

    All the teachers were freaking out. They thought it was the coolest thing. They were trying to explain what the medal meant to all us kids, and they kept saying, “The Miracle on Ice, the Miracle on Ice.”

    And I’m like, Wow, this is a pretty cool show-and-tell. But I really had no idea about the true magnitude of what my dad and his teammates had done. He never talked about it. He never watched the tapes of the game. It just wasn’t his nature.

    So after show-and-tell was over, we had these little lockers in the back of the room — they weren’t even locked. I think they call them cubby holes? I put the 1980 Olympic gold medal in my cubby, and I left in there for, like, two weeks.

    Finally, I came home one day and my dad said, “Hey, do you still have my medal? Somebody else wants to borrow it.”

    And I was like, “Yeah, it’s in my cubby. All the teachers really thought it was cool!”

    If I had known then what I know now, I definitely wouldn’t have kept the Miracle on Ice gold medal next to a box of Crayola Crayons for two weeks.

    But that was my dad in a nutshell. He was a part of one of the greatest hockey teams of all time, but you would never know it in a million years by the way he carried himself. He was the definition of blue-collar. When he came home to Wisconsin after the Olympics, the first thing he did was open up a sporting goods store on the east side of Madison. But it wasn’t just a sporting goods store. The other half was a bait shop. I was too young to remember, but he’d tell me stories about opening up in the morning and walking in and seeing dead minnows all over all the goalie pads. I guess they’d pop off the top of the bait buckets in the middle of the night and try to escape.

    It was the most Wisconsin thing ever.

    My first memories in life are of waking up in the morning and going to the shop and having one of my brothers put on the brand-new goalie gear. We’d play right in the back of the store until my dad was done with work, and then we’d drive over to hockey practice in my dad’s beat-up old pickup truck. And when I say beat-up, I mean beat-up. Holes in the floor boards. One little bench seat. We’d pile in there and sit four-across, probably smelling terrible. My dad couldn’t even reach the stick shift with all our legs in the way, so he taught us how to shift gears for him. It was a team effort.

    All we did, every day, every minute, was hockey.

    My dad was my coach from the time I started skating, and he ran some hockey camps, too, but his dream was always to open up his own rink. When I was about 12 years old, he and a few other guys got some money together and built Capitol Ice Rink in Middleton. Once again, my dad being my dad, he was like a one-man construction crew. I don’t even know if it was legal, but he had me and my brothers driving the Bobcats, dumping dirt all over the parking lot and everything. It was unreal.

    Whenever there was a problem, he’d never call anybody. He’d just shrug and be like, “We’ll figure it out.”

    Cap Ice was his baby. When the place opened, he was so proud. He was there from sunup to sundown. He had so much going on it was comical. He’d clean the toilets, run the Zamboni, stock the vending machines, do the practice scheduling, run the register at the hockey shop, fix the broken light fixtures, then he’d go out and coach his youth team. Sometimes he’d be driving the Zamboni with his hockey skates on, just because he didn’t want anyone else to do it.

    He was always running — no, seriously, sprinting — around the rink. He never expected anything from anybody. This one time, he was so busy that he jumped on the Zamboni and pulled out to clean the ice for a tournament game, and he forgot to detach the water hose. He got about halfway to the red line before the hose snapped.

    He was nuts, in the best way possible. A lot of guys who accomplished what he did in Lake Placid would’ve had their Team USA jerseys hanging up all over the rink. They would’ve wanted to be a local legend. But my dad was the complete opposite. You never would’ve known.

    It was like a running joke around the rink, when people would come from out of town for a tournament and want to get a picture with my dad, the regulars would say, “Take a step back and make sure you get his boots in the picture.”

    I think he still had the same work boots from the ’70s.

    If a kid came up and asked him about the Miracle on Ice, he’d always deflect the question and ask them something about themselves like, “How’s your team doing? What tournaments are you playing in?”

    Sometimes, when he was going all-out to put on these unbelievable youth tournaments and camps, people would ask him, “Why are you doing all this? Why don’t you just take it easy?”

    And he would say the same thing every time. “It’s all about the kids. That’s why we do it.”

    It really wasn’t a cliché. He genuinely loved hockey and he genuinely loved helping kids. For 16 years, he poured everything he had into that rink.

    Three years ago, right around this time, I was just getting back on the ice in Minnesota before training camp with the Wild. I remember seeing my wife Becky in the stands, and she was crying. I didn’t know what was going on. I thought maybe something had happened with our kids. Then she came down to the glass, and she said, “Something happened with your dad.”

    He was working at the rink when he had a fatal heart attack.

    I had just seen him two days before. He came by our house to drop off something we’d left behind at a wedding. I saw him pull up, so I went out to the garage to say hi. But, with my dad being my dad, he was already on the run. By the time I got there, he was pulling out of the driveway.

    I waved to him.

    He waved back.

    He had to get to the rink.

    It’s been three years now since his passing, and it still sucks. It still hurts. Every day, I wish he was here. He was a great person who cared so much about his family and hockey and helping people get better. I would give anything to be hosting a tournament at Cap Ice, sweeping the floor with my dad at 11 o’clock at night, and walking out of there knowing that the locker rooms were clean for the kids coming in at 6 a.m. the next morning. To us, that was happiness. I would give anything to have that moment again.

    But you know what? I take comfort in knowing that my father died in the place that he built with his bare hands, doing the thing that he loved the most. He truly loved every minute of it. He really did. He loved hockey. He loved the rink. He loved the kids.

    I actually had no idea how many lives he touched until his funeral service. At the wake, more than 4,000 people showed up. You had generations of Wisconsin hockey parents and kids and coaches, and you know what was so amazing about it? They almost never mentioned the Miracle on Ice.

    They said, “Man, your dad was the best. He fitted me for my first pair of skates, and he took an hour to make sure that they were perfect.”

    They said, “I used to get all my kids’ hockey equipment at your dad’s shop, and he used to sell me stuff at cost, because he knew we could barely afford it.”

    The best lesson I think people can take from my dad is his humility. He was a part of the single greatest moment in American sports history. But he never talked about it. He never wanted any glory. He was happy to go sweep the floors at the end of the night.

    He never wanted to be a local legend. But he became one anyway. He did it his way.

    I know that he was proud of what I accomplished in hockey, but honestly I think he was the most proud whenever he saw me around my wife and kids. He just loved being a grandpa, and he couldn’t sit still. That was perfect for the kids. We’d all go out to dinner and whenever my kids would be getting restless, he’d say, “Hey kids, what do you say we go outside?”

    And they’d go on their little adventure together.

    I don’t know why, maybe it was because he had been to the top of the mountain, but to him, hockey was just … it was just fun. It wasn’t about glory.

    I remember before I left with Team USA for the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver, he said, “Ahh, you guys gotta win this so they can finally stop talking about us.”

    And he was really serious.

    I’ve still never watched the Miracle game against Russia. We have the DVDs somewhere, but I don’t know if I’ll ever watch it. It’s not what my dad would’ve wanted. I honestly don’t think he ever watched it, either.

    I can just see him saying, “Watch it? I played in it. Let’s go to the rink.”

    There’s a song that comes on the radio a lot, and whenever it does, I get a little bit emotional. It’s a Tim McGraw song, and the last line sums up my father in five words.

    “Always stay humble and kind.”

    I can’t think of better advice for anybody.

    My dad is my hero. But I’m not proud of him because he was the guy who won the gold medal in 1980. I’m proud of him because he was the guy sweeping the floors in the locker room, and the guy who taught hundreds of kids how to play the great game of hockey, and the guy who was a hell of a dad to me and my brothers.

    You were one of a kind.

    Thanks for everything, Dad.

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  • Presty the DJ for Feb. 28

    February 28, 2020
    Music

    The number one single today in 1970:

    The number one single today in 1976 is the first record I ever purchased, for $1.03 at a Madison drugstore just before it left the WISM radio top 40 list:

    Today in 1977,  a member of the audience at a Ray Charles concert tried to strangle him with a rope.

    The number one single today in 1981:

    Birthdays today start with Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones:

    Joe South:

    Donnie Iris of the Jaggerz:

    Ronnie Rosman of Tommy James and the Shondells:

    Cindy Wilson of the B-52s:

    Ian Stanley played keyboards for Tears for Fears:

    Phil Gould of Level 42:

    Four deaths of note today: Frankie Lymon in 1968 …

    … one-hit-wonder Bobby Bloom in 1974 …

    … David Byron of Uriah Heep in 1985 …

    … and drummer George Allen “Buddy” Miles, who had the good taste to record with two of the greatest rock guitarists of all time on the same song, in 2008:

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  • Vladimir Ilyich Sanders

    February 27, 2020
    US politics

    Kevin Williamson:

    Bernie Sanders, the socialist from Vermont from Brooklyn, has stepped in it and stepped in deep with his praise of Fidel Castro’s brutal dictatorship in Cuba and its fictitious advances in, among other things, literacy. Republicans must be looking forward to watching him defend that in Florida in front of audiences composed of the friends, family, and survivors of those whom the Castro regime murdered, imprisoned, tortured, disfigured, repressed, and terrorized — which, it bears remembering, it continues to do, to this day, under Raúl Castro. The Cuban people desperately need our help, not Senator Sanders making excuses for the men who murder and oppress them.

    The analogous cases are, as a rhetorical matter, obvious enough: Mussolini had a really strong public-works program. Hitler was a patron of the arts. Franco was . . . pretty fashion-forward, even for a generalissimo. Etc.

    Conservatives are as vulnerable to flights of ideological fancy and political passion as anybody. Even the great F. A. Hayek (who rejected the label “conservative” even though he plainly was a conservative as Americans use the word) found himself hostage to excessive enthusiasm, in his case for the repressive rightist government of Augusto Pinochet. Pinochet’s government did make critical reforms to economic policy in Chile. It also committed horrendous atrocities. “Yes, but what about his entitlement-reform program?” is at the very least morally and intellectually insufficient. And the attraction to the strongman form of government always must be resisted, because there is, finally, no such thing as a benevolent dictator. Hayek was gently chided by Margaret Thatcher for his excessive affection for the Chilean regime. Her advice to him is wise counsel for conservatives today: “Our reform must be in line with our traditions and our Constitution. At times the process may seem painfully slow. But I am certain we shall achieve our reforms in our own way and in our own time. Then they will endure.”

    It is not true that the American Left has no interest in “our traditions and our Constitution.” The Left is very interested in our traditions and our Constitution — it hates these and wishes to see them destroyed. The Left’s war on the Constitution goes back to the foundation of American progressivism under Woodrow Wilson, who considered the Constitution outmoded and a hindrance to intelligent administration. The line of thinking extends straight into modern progressivism: Harry Reid’s attempt to gut the First Amendment in order to put political speech under government control, a proposal endorsed by every Democrat in the Senate; other related progressive attempts to destroy the Bill of Rights, beginning with the First and Second Amendments but by no means limited to these; the contention by progressives, typified by Ryan Cooper, that “the American Constitution is an outdated, malfunctioning piece of junk”; Senator Sanders’s call for “revolution”; etc.

    The Democrats may shed a few crocodile tears over President Donald Trump’s supposed assault on the Constitution (Trump’s assault mainly has been on American manners, the importance of which is generally overlooked and misunderstood), but assaulting the Constitution is the foundation of their politics and their jurisprudence: Assaulting the Constitution — reshaping it to better fit progressive political preferences — is what Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan were put on the Supreme Court to do. The intellectual and constitutional position that this is impermissible — that the Constitution must be treated as though it says what it actually says rather than as though it said what people invested with transient political power wish it said, which is all the “textualism” of Clarence Thomas et al. actually amounts to — is denounced as dangerous “extremism.” Whatever it is the American Left is on about, it is not the Constitution — not the actual one that has been written down, in any case.

    Rather, the Left advocates a new constitutional covenant, one in which the law is written on our hearts — or at least on the hearts of a cabal of left-wing law professors. Senator Sanders is not an intellectual. He is not a scholar of law or economics or intersectionality studies, and he is not a member of the new administrative class that the American Left has been building since Woodrow Wilson. He is only their John the Baptist, a voice crying in the wilderness and announcing the coming of the new kingdom.

    What kind of kingdom is it to be?

    There is some indication in history, because Senator Sanders’s parroting Castroite propaganda about Communist Cuba’s supposed successes in literacy and health care are hardly without precedent. The New York Times’s infamous Walter Duranty reportage was straight-up Soviet propaganda. Lincoln Steffens’s celebration of Soviet life — “I have seen the future, and it works!” — required a measure of willful blindness. The New Republic at times functioned as a gentle apologist for Stalin and Stalinism. Noam Chomsky and Pol Pot, the American Left and Ho Chi Minh, the American Left and Chairman Mao, the American Left and Castro, the American Left and Hugo Chávez, the European Left and the Ayatollah Khomeini, knucklehead campus dopes and Che Guevara, etc. — the pattern repeats itself. There is a streak of Leninism that runs from the Soviet enterprise through Mao’s China and into the ayatollahs’ Iran. But what Lenin’s revolution really has in common with Mao’s and with Khomeini’s is that each of those ultimately was directed at the same enemy: us.

    The American Left believes, and always has believed, that American society is fundamentally corrupt, that American power is a cancer, that American prosperity is a sham enjoyed only by the undeserving, that American business is great barrier to happiness at home and abroad, that the American way is dangerous hypocrisy, that the American foundation is not the story of liberty but the story of slavery and genocide, and that the shortest way to utopia is making common cause with those who oppose this stockpile of wickedness. And so the American Left has found something to love about every monster it can go abroad to find: Lenin and Stalin, the Khmer Rouge, Mao, the Castros, the ayatollahs, the Sandinistas (Greetings, Mayor de Blasio!), every tinpot tyrant and posturing revolutionary from Mussolini to Che. Even when it comes to al-Qaeda or the Taliban, the Left feels compelled to reinterpret history so that the crimes of Osama bin Laden et al. ultimately can be laid on the Pentagon, Wall Street, Main Street—if Americans are dying in Benghazi, it must be because some crazy American Christian stirred up the locals. If there are crack addicts in Los Angeles, it must be that the CIA was behind it. That is really what Senator Sanders’s weird little rape-fantasy literary œuvre is about — the unshakeable conviction of the Left that American society is fundamentally corrupt, an abomination that only can be saved — if it can be saved at all — by means of “revolution.”

    By “revolution” Senator Sanders means investing a great deal of political power — including extraconstitutional power — in him as president. Power to what end? He already has told us, if only we would listen. He hasn’t spent his public career as an aspiring Thorvald Stauning but as an apologist for the likes of Fidel Castro and the Soviet party bosses who kept the gulags stocked with fresh souls.

    Does Senator Sanders bear in his heart some secret love for Fidel Castro or the Bolsheviks? Possibly. But that is not the relevant question. Senator Sanders has come to this point not because of what he loves but because of what he hates. He is naturally sympathetic to the Soviets and the chavistas and the Castros because they hate what he hates: American power, American prosperity, the American way of life. Common causes are made by a common enemy.

    In this case, us.

    And what if Comrade Sanders becomes president? The New York Times:

    Bernie Sanders has proposed a wealth tax on the richest Americans, criticized big businesses for turning huge profits while paying little in taxes and said he believed billionaires should not exist.

    His win in Tuesday’s Democratic primary in New Hampshire has made plausible what Wall Street has for months considered a worst-case scenario: the inauguration of President Sanders.

    An avowed socialist whose plans include disemboweling the private health care system and cracking down on lending and other banking activities, Mr. Sanders is considered by many traders, investors and bankers to be the only candidate less desirable than the widely loathed Senator Elizabeth Warren.

    Late Tuesday, as Mr. Sanders was pulling out a close win in New Hampshire, Lloyd Blankfein, the former Goldman Sachs chief executive, wrote on Twitter that the Vermont senator would “ruin our economy” if elected president.

    He succinctly summed up Wall Street’s feelings, calling Mr. Sanders just as polarizing as President Trump, while being worse for the country. “If I’m Russian, I go with Sanders this time around,” he wrote.

    If Dems go on to nominate Sanders, the Russians will have to reconsider who to work for to best screw up the US. Sanders is just as polarizing as Trump AND he’ll ruin our economy and doesn’t care about our military. If I’m Russian, I go with Sanders this time around.

    — Lloyd Blankfein (@lloydblankfein) February 12, 2020

    … Mr. Blankfein, who once said that he was looking forward to “unrestrained tweeting” in retirement, did not respond to messages seeking comment on Tuesday. But his tweet — his latest tussle with a progressive candidate from his own party — was read by many as a direct manifestation of big money’s growing unease with the self-described democratic socialist.

    Others on Wednesday brushed off Mr. Sanders’s victory, saying he would be an untenable nominee in a race against Mr. Trump, one that could make people do the unthinkable: vote to re-elect the president.

    Mike Novogratz, a Goldman Sachs alumnus who runs the merchant bank Galaxy Digital, said Mr. Sanders’s oppositional nature had prompted “too many friends” to say they would vote against him in November. “And they hate Trump,” he said.

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  • Let’s call the whole thing off

    February 27, 2020
    US politics

    American politics has worshipped at the altar of the candidate debate since Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas verbally sparred in debates before the 1858 U.S. Senate election in Illinois.

    A century later came the 1960 presidential debates between John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon. Sixteen years later Jimmy Carter and Gerald Ford held debates, and we’ve been stuck with this tradition of dubious value ever since then.

    After Tuesday’s Democratic presidential candidate debate, maybe it’s time to end this tradition. Jim Geraghty:

    After [Tuesday] night’s debate of angry shouting and incoherent crosstalk, it is time for the Democratic National Committee to recognize that its system and design for this cycle’s primary debates is failing just about everyone, and for the Republican National Committee to take notes for next cycle.

    How many candidates entered this cycle thinking, “Sure, I’m not well known nationally, but once I’m up on that debate stage, people will realize what a superstar I am, and the donations to fuel our campaign will roll in”? The problem is that it is extremely difficult to stand out on a debate stage with ten people, and even harder when the party holds two debates over consecutive nights to accommodate the twenty candidates who qualified. Candidates such as Tim Ryan, Michael Bennet, Jay Inslee, and Steve Bullock barely made impressions upon the audience, much less used the debates as a steppingstone to serious contention.

    The DNC faces a catch-22 situation: The more they try to make a debate process fair to lesser-known candidates, the more an increased number of lesser-known candidates will qualify for the debates, making it harder for all lesser-known candidates to stand out and rise in the field.

    Most of these candidates seemed inexplicably oblivious to the fact that their debate answers sounded a lot like everybody else’s debate answers. The point of a debate is to draw contrasts, even though that is apparently upsetting to some news columnists who complained about “divisive questions.” The purpose of a debate is not to assure nervous Democrats that all of their candidates are terrific and that everyone in the party gets along and mostly agrees with each other.

    One of the reasons that the Las Vegas debate was so refreshing and almost riveting is that for once, the candidates spoke bluntly about why they didn’t think the others should be nominated. Elizabeth Warren really believes that Mike Bloomberg was a creep to his female employees and offers far too little contrast with Trump. Mike Bloomberg really believes that Bernie Sanders is a Communist and unelectable. Amy Klobuchar really believes that Pete Buttigieg is insufferably smug and unsubtly condescending to everyone else around him.

    For most of these debates, just as two Democrats started exploring a contrast that might actually be useful to undecided primary voters, someone would jump in and say, “this kind of infighting is just what Donald Trump and the Republicans want to see” — trying to play the role of the mature peacemaker, the “only adult in the room” pose that Barack Obama loved so much. Cory Booker was the worst offender, believing he could advance to the top tier by repeatedly arguing that leaders of a diverse party representing a variety of viewpoints should never disagree in public.

    The DNC’s system of ten candidates per night meant that the top-tier candidates couldn’t believe they were sharing the stage with Marianne Williamson talking about “dark spiritual forces” and obscure members of Congress such as John Delaney. This cycle we’ve seen jokes that the debates need a “play-in round” such as the NCAA basketball tournament, a preceding contest that determines the lowest-ranked seed in the main tournament of 64 teams. Maybe when there are 20 candidates, something like that makes sense. This entire cycle, the DNC flinched when accused of being unfair and hesitated to tell candidates and their supporters a hard truth about campaigning and life: You have to earn your place on stage.

    As this cycle’s debates went on, it became clear that the moderators were not interested in ensuring that each candidate got roughly the same amount of time. I believe the greatest disparity came in the second debate, where Joe Biden spoke for 21 minutes and John Hickenlooper, Andrew Yang, and Marianne Williamson spoke for 8.7 minutes. An imbalance like this is fundamentally unfair but also a recognition of a cold, hard fact: The audience is just not as interested in what the longshots have to say.

    The presence of the audience in the auditorium or hall is a mistake, as some of us have been emphasizing throughout this process. It creates all kinds of bad incentives, most notably to aim for applause lines instead of answering the question, and an attempt to get your supporters in the hall to cheer as loudly and wildly as possible, no matter how anodyne the answer. The presence of a large audience also allows for hecklers and protesters — one more discordant note to disrupt whatever rhythm the candidates had established.

    Then there are the moderators’ questions. There is a time and a place for broad, open-ended questions such as: “What changes would you make to the American health-care system?” Given a minute and 15 seconds to respond, a candidate can’t get into many specifics. The answers usually turn into a list of goals — “I will make health care more affordable for everyone, and I will make sure every American gets the care that they need” — with little sense of how to get there or what specific changes to law would be made to try to bring about that outcome. It reflects badly on the primary and general electorates that they are so easily satisfied with a wish list instead of a plan with specific details.

    This cycle’s debates have intermittently acknowledged that almost every idea discussed on stage would require passage of a bill through Congress, and the votes aren’t likely to be there unless there is a historic Democratic landslide in this year’s Senate races. Some candidates have pledged to get rid of the filibuster in the Senate, even though the president doesn’t have any power over that. Few of the remaining candidates have much of a record of creating bipartisan coalitions. (If you ask Senate Republicans, Biden and Klobuchar are the ones who have actually reached out to hammer out deals.) Most of these candidates are setting themselves up to lament, “Well, I wanted to enact my agenda, but I thought I would have more Democrats in the Senate, and I just didn’t have a backup plan to figure out how to handle a GOP Senate majority.”

    Last night, CBS partnered with Twitter and submitted a question from user Casey Pennington:

    “How will your policies address and ensure affordable housing and education equity for minimum wage workers?” There’s nothing inherently wrong with that question, but again, you’re not going to get many specifics in 75 seconds. Even if candidates can remember the specifics of their plans in the heat of the moment, they and their debate coaches have little faith in the audience’s ability to follow the fine details of federal policy.

    Any candidate who does get into policy details runs the risk of being mocked as an out-of-touch Washington insider; in the second debate Williamson mocked “this wonkiness” as insufficient to address the challenge of Trump. Her criticism was simultaneously unfair — this is a debate about what the next president should do, of course the solutions are going to focus upon federal policy — and will probably be a reflection of the views of many voters.

    Thus, most candidates answer policy questions with variations of, “this is important. I have done a lot on this issue. I have led the fight on this issue. We will do a lot, including achieve these goals. Visit my website for more information.” Here’s Klobuchar’s answer:

    KLOBUCHAR: Thank you. This is one of the first times we’ve talked about housing. And I put forward an extensive policy. I think — when I’ve looked at this both in my job in local government and in the Senate, one sure way we can make sure that kids get a good start is if they have a roof over their head and a stable place to live. So the way you do that is, first of all, taking care of the Section 8 backlog of applicants. There are literally hundreds of thousands of people waiting. And I have found a way to pay for this and a way to make sure that people get off that list and get into housing.

    Secondly, you create incentives for affordable housing to be built and, third, to help people pay for it. And I want to make clear, given South Carolina and the rural population, as well as urban, that this isn’t just an urban problem. It’s a big urban problem, but it’s also a rural problem, where we have housing deserts and people want to have their businesses located there, but they’re not able to get housing. So for me, it’s building a coalition. And I actually like to get these things done and to — the way you do it is by building a coalition between urban and rural so you can pass affordable housing and finally get it done.

    Last night, one segment of the debate addressed an important and under-discussed matter: Bernie Sanders proposed more than $50 trillion in new spending and has only laid out about $25 trillion in new taxes. Norah O’Donnell asked, “Can you do the math for the rest of us?”

    I’ve never missed Andrew Yang more.

    I don’t know about you, but I find it hard to follow a discussion of numbers auditorily. It’s easier to understand differing amounts of money when you can actually see the numbers visually. In a better world, during this part of the debate, the candidates would have had to literally add up the numbers of their plans on a whiteboard or giant touchscreen with an Excel spreadsheet or something, or at least had charts. Visualize the scale of the gap for us.

    Klobuchar tried: “Nearly $60 trillion. Do you know how much that is, for all of his programs? That is three times the American economy — not the federal government — the entire American economy.” At another point, Bloomberg said, “Let’s put this in perspective. The federal budget is $4.5 trillion a year. We get $3.5 trillion in revenue. We lose $1 trillion a year. That’s why the federal budget — deficit is — right now, the debt is $20 trillion, going up to 21. We just cannot afford some of this stuff people talk about.”

    Sanders’s answer on how he would fill that gap was a 7.5 percent payroll tax on employers.

    Here’s the Tax Foundation’s calculation of how that tax would play out:

    Sanders’s proposal to levy a new 7.5 percent payroll tax on employers with a $2 million payroll exemption for each employer would result in a 0.90 percent decline in long-run economic output, according to the Tax Foundation General Equilibrium Model. The capital stock would be about 1.02 percent smaller, and employment would drop by 1,190,000 as a result of the tax.

    The combined effect of the 7.5 percent payroll tax on employers and extending the 12.4 percent Social Security tax on wages would lower economic output by 1.17 percent over the long run. It would also reduce the capital stock by 1.33 percent, with about 1.5 million fewer jobs.

    While the 7.5 percent payroll tax is formally levied on employers, employees would bear the full burden of the new payroll tax. Employees would earn lower wages, lowering the return to labor.

    Enacting tax hikes that would eliminate 1.5 million jobs and lower wages is a terrible idea. Too bad you need a white paper to show the consequences to people.

    Add it all up and you have a system that doesn’t serve the top-tier candidates, the longshot candidates, the moderators, or undecided voters watching at home.

    Except that if the debate system ever benefited the voters watching at home, that hasn’t been the case for decades. The media has failed us by focusing on who (they think) “won” the debate instead of analyzing what was said for its substance, not for poor debate performance, as if the candidates were high school forensics competitors. Debating skills have literally nothing to do with what presidents do.

     

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  • Presty the DJ for Feb. 27

    February 27, 2020
    Music

    The number one single today in 1961:

    The number one British single today in 1964 was sung by a 21-year-old former hairdresser and cloak room attendant:

    That day, the Rolling Stones made their second appearance on BBC-TV’s “Top of the Pops”:

    (more…)

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  • Sanders the traitor

    February 26, 2020
    US politics

    Mona Charen:

    According to CNN, Bernie Sanders “has been consistent for 40 years.” Some find this reassuring. Bernie is not a finger-in-the-wind politician who tacks this way or that depending upon what’s popular. On the other hand, if someone has never changed his mind throughout 78 years of life, it suggests ideological rigidity and imperviousness to evidence, not high principle.

    Why make a fuss about Bernie’s past praise of Communist dictatorships? After all, the Cold War ended three decades ago, and a would-be President Sanders cannot exactly surrender to the Soviet Union.

    It’s a moral issue. Sanders was not a liberal during the Cold War, i.e. someone who favored arms control, peace talks, and opposed support for anti-Communist movements. He was an outright Communist sympathizer, meaning he was always willing to overlook or excuse the crimes of regimes like Cuba and Nicaragua; always ready to suggest that only American hostility forced them to, among other things, arrest their opposition, expel priests, and dispense with elections.

    Good ol’ consistent Bernie reprised one of the greatest hits of the pro-Castro Left last week on 60 Minutes. When Anderson Cooper pressed the senator by noting that Castro imprisoned a lot of dissidents, Sanders said he condemned such things. But even that grudging acknowledgment rankled the old socialist, who then rushed to add, “When Fidel Castro came into office, you know what he did? He had a massive literacy program. Is that a bad thing?”

    Actually, the first thing Castro did upon seizing power (note Sanders’s whitewashing term “came into office”) was to march 600 of Fulgencio Batista’s supporters into two of the island’s largest prisons, La Cabana and Santa Clara. Over the next five months, after rigged trials, they were shot. Some “trials” amounted to public spectacles. A crowd of 18,000 gathered in the Palace of Sports to give a thumbs-down gesture for Jesus Sosa Blanco. Before he was shot, Sosa Blanco noted that ancient Rome couldn’t have done it better.

    Batista was a bad guy, one must say. But summary executions are frowned upon by true liberals.

    Next, Castro announced that scheduled elections would be postponed indefinitely. The island is still waiting. Within months, he began to close independent newspapers, even some that had supported him during the insurgency. All religious colleges were shuttered in May 1961, their property confiscated by the state. N.B., Senator Sanders: Castro also found time to knee-cap the labor unions. David Salvador, the elected leader of the sugar-workers union had been a vocal Batista opponent. He was arrested in 1962 and would spend twelve years in Cuba’s gulag.

    The Black Book of Communism recounts that between 1959 and 1999, more than 100,000 Cubans were imprisoned for political reasons, and between 15,000 and 17,000 people were shot. Neighbors were encouraged to inform on one another and children on their parents. During the AIDS crisis of the 1980s, Cuba imprisoned gay people in concentration camps. Like other Communist paradises, Cuba’s greatest export was boat people. About two million of the island’s 11 million inhabitants escaped. Countless others died in the attempt. Did Sanders ever wonder why a country that had done such great work on literacy and health care had to shoot people to prevent them from fleeing?

    Bernie Sanders has credulously repeated the other great propaganda talking point about Cuba: its supposedly wonderful “universal” health-care system. It’s not wonderful. Even those wishing to give Cuba the benefit of the doubt note the lack of basic necessities. Many hospitals in the country lack even reliable electricity and clean running water. A 2016 visitor found that patients in one Havana hospital had to bring everything with them — medicine, sheets, towels, etc.

    The only working bathroom in the entire hospital had only one toilet. The door didn’t close, so you had to go with people outside watching. Toilet paper was nowhere to be found, and the floor was far from clean.

    Yes, Cuba has high rates of literacy, but the state wanted readers in order to propagandize them. Granma tells people what to believe and forbids access to other sources of information. To this day, the regime controls what people can know. There are two Internets on the island. One for tourists and those approved by the government and the other, with restricted access, for the people.

    Bernie Sanders has access to all the information he can absorb, and yet he remains an apologist for regimes that violate every standard of decency. Unlike the Cuban people, he is responsible for his own ignorance and pig-headedness. He claims to be a “democratic socialist,” but as his Cuba remarks suggest, the modifier may be just for show.

    But wait. There’s more. Zachary Evans:

    During his 1972 gubernatorial run, Senator Bernie Sanders told high-school students that the U.S. had committed acts in its war with Vietnam that were “almost as bad as what Hitler did.”

    An article in the Rutland, Vermont, newspaper, The Rutland Herald, reported on the comments, made while Sanders was campaigning for governor as a member of the Liberty Union party. The article was first unearthed by the Washington Free Beacon.

    The North Vietnamese “are not my enemy,” Sanders told a class of ninth graders in Rutland while on the campaign trail. “They’re a very, very poor people. Some of them don’t have shoes. They eat rice when they can get it. And they have been fighting for the freedom of their country for 25 years. They can hardly fight back.”

    The American death toll from the Vietnam War was over 58,000. The Herald reported that students pushed back against Sanders’s support for amnesty for draft evaders, saying it wouldn’t be fair to the parents of soldiers killed in the fighting.

    Ronald Radosh:

    Go back over 40 years, to the start of Iran’s long conflict with the United States. On April 1, 1979, the theocratic Islamic Republic of Iran was proclaimed. Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, who had returned to Iran from exile to assume command of the revolt, became Supreme Leader in December of that year. His rise was accelerated by the seizure on Nov. 4 of 52 American diplomats and citizens, and citizens of other countries, at the U.S. Embassy in Tehran. The hostage crisis became the means by which the Ayatollah crushed political opponents in Iran. Dealing with the hostage taking became the overwhelming political crisis for President Jimmy Carter. It lasted 444 days.

    Virtually all Americans—Democrats, Republicans and independents—united in support of the hostages and the international call for their freedom. One prominent political figure on the 2020 stage, then almost completely unknown, stood apart by joining a Marxist-Leninist party that not only pledged support for the Iranian theocracy, but also justified the hostage taking by insisting the hostages were all likely CIA agents. Who was that person? It was Bernie Sanders.

    Sanders would like the public to believe, as an AP story put it, that “democratic socialism [is] the economic philosophy that has guided his political career.” But that has not always been the case. In 1977, he left the tiny left-wing Liberty Union Party of Vermont that he’d co-founded, and in 1980 instead aligned himself with the Socialist Workers Party (SWP), the self-proclaimed Trotskyist revolutionary party, became its presidential elector in Vermont, and campaigned for its candidates and platform that defended the Iranian hostage seizure.

    In fact, the SWP’s position on Iran is part of what distinguishes it from democratic socialist groups. When its presidential candidate, Andrew Pulley, came to speak at the University of Vermont in October 1980, Sanders chaired the meeting. Pulley attracted only 40 students to his rally, where he concentrated, according to the SWP’s newspaper The Militant, “on the Iran-Iraq war,” and condemned “anti-Iranian hysteria around the U.S. hostages.” Military action against Iran was not at that point theoretical—Pulley’s speech came six months after the attempt to free the hostages in Operation Eagle Claw had failed.

    In his standard stump speech, Pulley condemned “Carter’s war drive against the Iranian people,” and said that the U.S. “was on the brink of war with Iran,” which would be fought “to protect the oil and banking interests of the Rockefellers and other billionaires.” Americans, he predicted, would soon “pay on the battlefields with our very own lives.” Their criticism of the Ayatollah was intended “to get us ready for war.” And, Pulley charged, the media who criticized those of us who were against “American imperialism” were “declared insane.”  As for the hostages, Pulley said “we can be sure that many of them are simply spies… or people assigned to protect the spies.”

    Pulley’s words were a direct echo of what the Islamic  Society of University Teachers and Students had declared on Nov. 4, 1979 : “We defend the capture of this imperialist embassy, which is a center for espionage.”

    Six months after the 1980 election, on May 21, 1981, Sanders spoke at another Pulley rally. “For the last 40 years,” Sanders said, “the Socialist Workers Party has… been harassed, informed upon, had their offices broken into, had members of their party fired from their jobs, and have been treated with cold contempt by the United States government.”  Even worse, he went on, apparently referring to the Iranian hostage crisis, “now anybody who stands up and fights and says things is automatically a terrorist.” He claimed that he had been investigated himself by the FBI because “I was an elector for the Socialist Workers Party,” referring to his formal role in the 1980 election with the Trotskyists.

    The Sanders campaign did not respond to a request for comment. Asked about the SWP in 1988, Sanders, then the mayor of Burlington and a congressional candidate, talked down the connection, saying that: “I was asked to put my name on the ballot and I did, that’s true.” Today, no mention of Sanders’ association with the SWP appears in any campaign biography he has issued. But Sanders remained tied to the party after 1980. He was a featured speaker at a Boston rally for the SWP’s Massachusetts gubernatorial candidate and the party’s slate for Congress in 1982, the year after he was narrowly elected mayor of Burlington. In 1984, he again spoke on behalf of the SWP’s presidential candidate, this time former Black Panther Mel Mason, telling The Militant that “at a time when the Democratic and Republican parties are intellectually and spiritually bankrupt, it is imperative for radical voices to be heard which offer fundamental alternatives to capitalist ideology.” It remains unclear when Sanders’s affiliation with the SWP ended.

    Of course, Sanders had a right to his beliefs. But he has not been fully transparent about what those beliefs, connections, and loyalties have been over the years. Sanders says that he has been consistently and firmly dedicated to democratic socialism. His record, however, reveals a very different story around the time of the Iranian hostage crisis.

    One wonders why Sanders is running for president of a country he obviously hates since he always has sided with this country’s enemies.

     

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  • How soon we forget

    February 26, 2020
    US politics

    Jon Miltimore:

    The fall of the Soviet Union is sometimes remembered as Nov. 9, 1989, the day the Berlin Wall symbolically collapsed. While the physical barrier endured for some two more years, on that day, East German Communist Party officials announced they would no longer stop citizens of the German Democratic Republic from crossing the border.

    The fall of the barrier that scarred Germany was indeed a watershed in the collapse of the Soviet Empire, yet one could argue the true death knell came two months before at a small grocery store in Clear Lake, Texas.

    On Sept. 16, 1989, Boris Yeltsin was a newly elected member of the Soviet Parliament visiting the United States. Following a scheduled visit to Johnson Space Center, Yeltsin and a small entourage made an unscheduled stop at a Randalls grocery store in Clear Lake, a suburb of Houston. He was amazed by the aisles of food and stocked shelves, a sharp contrast to the breadlines and empty columns he was accustomed to in Russia.

    Yeltsin, who had a reputation as a reformer and populist, “roamed the aisles of Randall’s nodding his head in amazement,” wrote Stefanie Asin, a Houston Chronicle reporter. He marveled at free cheese samples, fresh fish and produce, and freezers packed full of pudding pops. Along the way, Yeltsin chatted up customers and store workers: “How much does this cost? Do you need special education to manage a supermarket? Are all American stores like this?”

    Yeltsin was a member of the Politburo and Russia’s upper political crust, yet he’d never seen anything like the offerings of this little American grocery store. “Even the Politburo doesn’t have this choice. Not even Mr. Gorbachev,” Yeltsin said.

    It’s difficult for Americans to grasp Yeltsin’s astonishment. Our market economy has evolved from grocery stores to companies such as Walmart and Amazon that compete to deliver food right to our homes.

    Yeltsin’s reaction can be understood, however, by looking back on the conditions in the Soviet Union’s economy. Russia grocery stores at the time looked like this and this:

    Now compare that footage to the images of Yeltsin shopping at a U.S. supermarket. The contrast is undeniable. Yeltsin’s experience that day ran contrary to everything he knew. A longtime member of the Communist Party who had lived his entire life in a one-party system that punished dissent harshly, Yeltsin had been taught over and over that socialism wasn’t just more equitable, but more efficient.

    His eyes were opened that day, and the revelation left the future Russian president feeling sick.

    “When I saw those shelves crammed with hundreds, thousands of cans, cartons and goods of every possible sort, for the first time I felt quite frankly sick with despair for the Soviet people,” Yeltsin later wrote in his autobiography, “Against the Grain.” “That such a potentially super-rich country as ours has been brought to a state of such poverty! It is terrible to think of it.”

    Yeltsin was not the only person fooled, of course. There is copious documentation of Western intellectuals beguiled by the Soviet system. These individuals, who unlike Yeltsin did not live in a state-controlled media environment, saw the Soviet system as both economically and morally superior to American capitalism despite the brutal methods employed in the workers’ paradise.

    “I have seen the future, and it works,” the Progressive Era journalist Lincoln Steffens famously said.

    Paul Samuelson, the first American to win the Nobel Prize in economics and one of the most influential economists of the 20th century, was a longtime enthusiast of Soviet central planning and predicted it would lead to a higher standard of living. “Who could know that [the data] was all fake?” Samuelson is said to have asked a fellow economist following the empire’s collapse.

    Despite decades of propaganda and obfuscation, the great fiction of socialism was eventually fully exposed with the fall of the Soviet Union and the publication of its archives in the 1990s. No longer could academics deny the truth that the people of the Soviet Union endured a painfully low standard of living despite the vast wealth of its empire.

    “Their standard of living was low, not only by comparison with that in the United States, but also compared to the standard of living in countries with far fewer natural resources, such as Japan and Switzerland,” the economist Thomas Sowell observed in “Basic Economics.”

    Yeltsin deserves credit for laying bare the lie of socialism that so many others had refused to see. “[T]here would be a revolution,” Yeltsin told his entourage that fateful September day in 1989, if the people in the Soviet Union ever saw the prosperity in American grocery stores. Yeltsin was more right than he knew.

    Sanders’ supporters apparently need a field trip to Cuba, Venezuela or North Korea, to see what socialism, the most evil ideology in the history of mankind, delivers.

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  • Presty the DJ for Feb. 26

    February 26, 2020
    Music

    Today in 1955, Billboard magazine reported that sales of 45-rpm singles …

    … had exceeded sales of 78-rpm singles for the first time.

    The number one single today in 1966:

    The number one album today in 1966 was the Beatles’ “Rubber Soul”:

    (more…)

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Steve Prestegard.com: The Presteblog

The thoughts of a journalist/libertarian–conservative/Christian husband, father, Eagle Scout and aficionado of obscure rock music. Thoughts herein are only the author’s and not necessarily the opinions of his family, friends, neighbors, church members or past, present or future employers.

  • Steve
    • About, or, Who is this man?
    • Facebook
    • Twitter
    • Adventures in ruralu0026nbsp;inkBack in June 2009, I was driving somewhere through a rural area. And for some reason, I had a flashback to two experiences in my career about that time of year many years ago. In 1988, eight days after graduating from the University of Wisconsin, I started work at the Grant County Herald Independent in Lancaster as a — well, the — reporter. Four years after that, on my 27th birthday, I purchased, with a business partner, the Tri-County Press in Cuba City, my first business venture. Both were experiences about which Wisconsin author Michael Perry might write. I thought about all this after reading a novel, The Deadline, written by a former newspaper editor and publisher. (Now who would write a novel about a weekly newspaper?) As a former newspaper owner, I picked at some of it — why finance a newspaper purchase through the bank if the seller is willing to finance it? Because the mean bank lender is a plot point! — and it is much more interesting than reality, but it is very well written, with a nicely twisting plot, and quite entertaining, again more so than reality. There is something about that first job out of college that makes you remember it perhaps more…
    • Adventures in radioI’ve been in the full-time work world half my life. For that same amount of time I’ve been broadcasting sports as a side interest, something I had wanted to since I started listening to games on radio and watching on TV, and then actually attending games. If you ask someone who’s worked in radio for some time about the late ’70s TV series “WKRP in Cincinnati,” most of them will tell you that, if anything, the series understated how wacky working in radio can be. Perhaps the funniest episode in the history of TV is the “WKRP” episode, based on a true story, about the fictional radio station’s Thanksgiving promotion — throwing live turkeys out of a helicopter under the mistaken belief that, in the words of WKRP owner Arthur Carlson, “As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly.” [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ST01bZJPuE0] I’ve never been involved in anything like that. I have announced games from the roofs of press boxes (once on a nice day, and once in 50-mph winds), from a Mississippi River bluff (more on that later), and from the front row of the second balcony of the University of Wisconsin Fieldhouse (great view, but not a place to go if…
    • “Good morning/afternoon/evening, ________ fans …”
    • My biggest storyEarlier this week, while looking for something else, I came upon some of my own work. (I’m going to write a blog someday called “Things I Found While Looking for Something Else.” This is not that blog.) The Grant County Sheriff’s Department, in the county where I used to live, has a tribute page to the two officers in county history who died in the line of duty. One is William Loud, a deputy marshal in Cassville, shot to death by two bank robbers in 1912. The other is Tom Reuter, a Grant County deputy sheriff who was shot to death at the end of his 4 p.m.-to-midnight shift March 18, 1990. Gregory Coulthard, then a 19-year-old farmhand, was convicted of first-degree intentional homicide and is serving a life sentence, with his first eligibility for parole on March 18, 2015, just 3½ years from now. I’ve written a lot over the years. I think this, from my first two years in the full-time journalism world, will go down as the story I remember the most. For journalists, big stories contain a paradox, which was pointed out in CBS-TV’s interview of Andy Rooney on his last “60 Minutes” Sunday. Morley Safer said something along the line…
  • Food and drink
    • The Roesch/Prestegard familyu0026nbsp;cookbookFrom the family cookbook(s) All the families I’m associated with love to eat, so it’s a good thing we enjoy cooking. The first out-of-my-house food memory I have is of my grandmother’s cooking for Christmas or other family occasions. According to my mother, my grandmother had a baked beans recipe that she would make for my mother. Unfortunately, the recipe seems to have  disappeared. Also unfortunately, my early days as a picky, though voluminous, eater meant I missed a lot of those recipes made from such wholesome ingredients as lard and meat fat. I particularly remember a couple of meals that involve my family. The day of Super Bowl XXXI, my parents, my brother, my aunt and uncle and a group of their friends got together to share lots of food and cheer on the Packers to their first NFL title in 29 years. (After which Jannan and I drove to Lambeau Field in the snow,  but that’s another story.) Then, on Dec. 31, 1999, my parents, my brother, my aunt and uncle and Jannan and I (along with Michael in utero) had a one-course-per-hour meal to appropriately end years beginning with the number 1. Unfortunately I can’t remember what we…
    • SkålI was the editor of Marketplace Magazine for 10 years. If I had to point to one thing that demonstrates improved quality of life since I came to Northeast Wisconsin in 1994, it would be … … the growth of breweries and  wineries in Northeast Wisconsin. The former of those two facts makes sense, given our heritage as a brewing state. The latter is less self-evident, since no one thinks of Wisconsin as having a good grape-growing climate. Some snobs claim that apple or cherry wines aren’t really wines at all. But one of the great facets of free enterprise is the opportunity to make your own choice of what food and drink to drink. (At least for now, though some wish to restrict our food and drink choices.) Wisconsin’s historically predominant ethnic group (and our family’s) is German. Our German ancestors did unfortunately bring large government and high taxes with them, but they also brought beer. Europeans brought wine with them, since they came from countries with poor-quality drinking water. Within 50 years of a wave of mid-19th-century German immigration, brewing had become the fifth largest industry in the U.S., according to Maureen Ogle, author of Ambitious Brew: The Story of American Beer. Beer and wine have…
  • Wheels
    • America’s sports carMy birthday in June dawned without a Chevrolet Corvette in front of my house. (The Corvette at the top of the page was featured at the 2007 Greater Milwaukee Auto Show. The copilot is my oldest son, Michael.) Which isn’t surprising. I have three young children, and I have a house with a one-car garage. (Then again, this would be more practical, though a blatant pluck-your-eyes-out violation of the Corvette ethos. Of course, so was this.) The reality is that I’m likely to be able to own a Corvette only if I get a visit from the Corvette Fairy, whose office is next door to the Easter Bunny. (I hope this isn’t foreshadowing: When I interviewed Dave Richter of Valley Corvette for a car enthusiast story in the late great Marketplace Magazine, he said that the most popular Corvette in most fans’ minds was a Corvette built during their days in high school. This would be a problem for me in that I graduated from high school in 1983, when no Corvette was built.) The Corvette is one of those cars whose existence may be difficult to understand within General Motors Corp. The Corvette is what is known as a “halo car,” a car that drives people into showrooms, even if…
    • Barges on fouru0026nbsp;wheelsI originally wrote this in September 2008.  At the Fox Cities Business Expo Tuesday, a Smart car was displayed at the United Way Fox Cities booth. I reported that I once owned a car into which trunk, I believe, the Smart could be placed, with the trunk lid shut. This is said car — a 1975 Chevrolet Caprice coupe (ours was dark red), whose doors are, I believe, longer than the entire Smart. The Caprice, built down Interstate 90 from us Madisonians in Janesville (a neighbor of ours who worked at the plant probably helped put it together) was the flagship of Chevy’s full-size fleet (which included the stripper Bel Air and middle-of-the-road Impala), featuring popular-for-the-time vinyl roofs, better sound insulation, an upgraded cloth interior, rear fender skirts and fancy Caprice badges. The Caprice was 18 feet 1 inch long and weighed 4,300 pounds. For comparison: The midsize Chevrolet of the ear was the Malibu, which was the same approximate size as the Caprice after its 1977 downsizing. The compact Chevrolet of the era was the Nova, which was 200 inches long — four inches longer than a current Cadillac STS. Wikipedia’s entry on the Caprice has this amusing sentence: “As fuel economy became a bigger priority among Americans…
    • Behind the wheel
    • Collecting only dust or rust
    • Coooooooooooupe!
    • Corvettes on the screen
    • The garage of misfit cars
    • 100 years (and one day) of our Chevrolets
    • They built Excitement, sort of, once in a while
    • A wagon by any otheru0026nbsp;nameFirst written in 2008. You will see more don’t-call-them-station-wagons as you drive today. Readers around my age have probably had some experience with a vehicle increasingly rare on the road — the station wagon. If you were a Boy Scout or Girl Scout, or were a member of some kind of youth athletic team, or had a large dog, or had relatives approximately your age, or had friends who needed to be transported somewhere, or had parents who occasionally had to haul (either in the back or in a trailer) more than what could be fit inside a car trunk, you (or, actually, your parents) were the target demographic for the station wagon. “Station wagons came to be like covered wagons — so much family activity happened in those cars,” said Tim Cleary, president of the American Station Wagon Owners Association, in Country Living magazine. Wagons “were used for everything from daily runs to the grocery store to long summer driving trips, and while many men and women might have wanted a fancier or sportier car, a station wagon was something they knew they needed for the family.” The “station wagon” originally was a vehicle with a covered seating area to take people between train stations…
    • Wheels on theu0026nbsp;screenBetween my former and current blogs, I wrote a lot about automobiles and TV and movies. Think of this post as killing two birds (Thunderbirds? Firebirds? Skylarks?) with one stone. Most movies and TV series view cars the same way most people view cars — as A-to-B transportation. (That’s not counting the movies or series where the car is the plot, like the haunted “Christine” or “Knight Rider” or the “Back to the Future” movies.) The philosophy here, of course, is that cars are not merely A-to-B transportation. Which disqualifies most police shows from what you’re about to read, even though I’ve watched more police video than anything else, because police cars are plain Jane vehicles. The highlight in a sense is in the beginning: The car chase in my favorite movie, “Bullitt,” featuring Steve McQueen’s 1968 Ford Mustang against the bad guys’ 1968 Dodge Charger: [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMc2RdFuOxIu0026amp;fmt=18] One year before that (but I didn’t see this until we got Telemundo on cable a couple of years ago) was a movie called “Operación 67,” featuring (I kid you not) a masked professional wrestler, his unmasked sidekick, and some sort of secret agent plot. (Since I don’t know Spanish and it’s not…
    • While riding in my Cadillac …
  • Entertainments
    • Brass rocksThose who read my former blog last year at this time, or have read this blog over the past months, know that I am a big fan of the rock group Chicago. (Back when they were a rock group and not a singer of sappy ballads, that is.) Since rock music began from elements of country music, jazz and the blues, brass rock would seem a natural subgenre of rock music. A lot of ’50s musical acts had saxophone players, and some played with full orchestras … [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CPS-WuUKUE] … but it wasn’t until the more-or-less simultaneous appearances of Chicago and Blood Sweat u0026amp; Tears on the musical scene (both groups formed in 1967, both had their first charting singles in 1969, and they had the same producer) that the usual guitar/bass/keyboard/drum grouping was augmented by one or more trumpets, a sax player and a trombone player. While Chicago is my favorite group (but you knew that already), the first brass rock song I remember hearing was BSu0026amp;T’s “Spinning Wheel” — not in its original form, but on “Sesame Street,” accompanied by, yes, a giant spinning wheel. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qi9sLkyhhlE] [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxWSOuNsN20] [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9U34uPjz-g] I remember liking Chicago’s “Just You ‘n Me” when it was released as a single, and…
    • Drive and Eat au0026nbsp;RockThe first UW home football game of each season also is the opener for the University of Wisconsin Marching Band, the world’s finest college marching band. (How the UW Band has not gotten the Sudler Trophy, which is to honor the country’s premier college marching bands, is beyond my comprehension.) I know this because I am an alumnus of the UW Band. I played five years (in the last rank of the band, Rank 25, motto: “Where Men Are Tall and Run-On Is Short”), marching in 39 football games at Camp Randall Stadium, the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome in Minneapolis, Michigan Stadium in Ann Arbor, Memorial Stadium at the University of Illinois (worst artificial turf I had ever seen), the University of Nevada–Las Vegas’ Sam Boyd Silver Bowl, the former Dyche Stadium at Northwestern University, five high school fields and, in my one bowl game, Legion Field in Birmingham, Ala., site of the 1984 Hall of Fame Bowl. The UW Band was, without question, the most memorable experience of my college days, and one of the most meaningful experiences of my lifetime. It was the most physical experience of my lifetime, to be sure. Fifteen minutes into my first Registration…
    • Keep on rockin’ in the freeu0026nbsp;worldOne of my first ambitions in communications was to be a radio disc jockey, and to possibly reach the level of the greats I used to listen to from WLS radio in Chicago, which used to be one of the great 50,000-watt AM rock stations of the country, back when they still existed. (Those who are aficionados of that time in music and radio history enjoyed a trip to that wayback machine when WLS a Memorial Day Big 89 Rewind, excerpts of which can be found on their Web site.) My vision was to be WLS’ afternoon DJ, playing the best in rock music between 2 and 6, which meant I wouldn’t have to get up before the crack of dawn to do the morning show, yet have my nights free to do whatever glamorous things big-city DJs did. Then I learned about the realities of radio — low pay, long hours, zero job security — and though I have dabbled in radio sports, I’ve pretty much cured myself of the idea of working in radio, even if, to quote WAPL’s Len Nelson, “You come to work every day just like everybody else does, but we’re playing rock ’n’ roll songs, we’re cuttin’ up.…
    • Monday on the flight line, not Saturday in the park
    • Music to drive by
    • The rock ofu0026nbsp;WisconsinWikipedia begins its item “Music of Wisconsin” thusly: Wisconsin was settled largely by European immigrants in the late 19th century. This immigration led to the popularization of galops, schottisches, waltzes, and, especially, polkas. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yl7wCczgNUc] So when I first sought to write a blog piece about rock musicians from Wisconsin, that seemed like a forlorn venture. Turned out it wasn’t, because when I first wrote about rock musicians from Wisconsin, so many of them that I hadn’t mentioned came up in the first few days that I had to write a second blog entry fixing the omissions of the first. This list is about rock music, so it will not include, for instance, Milwaukee native and Ripon College graduate Al Jarreau, who in addition to having recorded a boatload of music for the jazz and adult contemporary/easy listening fan, also recorded the theme music for the ’80s TV series “Moonlighting.” Nor will it include Milwaukee native Eric Benet, who was for a while known more for his former wife, Halle Berry, than for his music, which includes four number one singles on the Ru0026amp;B charts, “Spend My Life with You” with Tamia, “Hurricane,” “Pretty Baby” and “You’re the Only One.” Nor will it include Wisconsin’s sizable contributions to big…
    • Steve TV: All Steve, All the Time
    • “Super Steve, Man of Action!”
    • Too much TV
    • The worst music of allu0026nbsp;timeThe rock group Jefferson Airplane titled its first greatest-hits compilation “The Worst of Jefferson Airplane.” Rolling Stone magazine was not being ironic when it polled its readers to decide the 10 worst songs of the 1990s. I’m not sure I agree with all of Rolling Stone’s list, but that shouldn’t be surprising; such lists are meant for debate, after all. To determine the “worst,” songs appropriate for the “Vinyl from Hell” segment that used to be on a Madison FM rock station, requires some criteria, which does not include mere overexposure (for instance, “Macarena,” the video of which I find amusing since it looks like two bankers are singing it). Before we go on: Blog posts like this one require multimedia, so if you find a song you hate on this blog, I apologize. These are also songs that I almost never listen to because my sound system has a zero-tolerance policy — if I’m listening to the radio or a CD and I hear a song I don’t like, it’s, to quote Bad Company, gone gone gone. My blonde wife won’t be happy to read that one of her favorite ’90s songs, 4 Non Blondes’ “What’s Up,” starts the list. (However,…
    • “You have the right to remain silent …”
  • Madison
    • Blasts from the Madison media past
    • Blasts from my Madison past
    • Blasts from our Madison past
    • What’s the matter with Madison?
    • Wisconsin – Madison = ?
  • Sports
    • Athletic aesthetics, or “cardinal” vs. “Big Red”
    • Choose your own announcer
    • La Follette state 1982 (u0022It was 30 years ago todayu0022)
    • The North Dakota–Wisconsin Hockey Fight of 1982
    • Packers vs. Brewers
  • Hall of Fame
    • The case(s) against teacher unions
    • The Class of 1983
    • A hairy subject, or face the face
    • It’s worse than you think
    • It’s worse than you think, 2010–11 edition
    • My favorite interview subject of all time
    • Oh look! Rural people!
    • Prestegard for president!
    • Unions vs. the facts, or Hiding in plain sight
    • When rhetoric goes too far
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