• Presty the DJ for April 27

    April 27, 2016
    Music

    The number one single today in 1963 was recorded by a 15-year-old, the youngest number one singer to date:

    The number one British single today in 1967 was that year’s Eurovision song contest winner:

    The number one single today in 1985:

    (more…)

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  • After Trump (or so we hope)

    April 26, 2016
    US politics, Wisconsin politics

    Rick Esenberg:

    The explanation for Donald Trump’s success is not simple, but let’s see what we can make of a simple statement. “I love the poorly educated,” Trump said, and both the left and the right chortled. That response is understandable. The idea of President Trump would be laughable had it not become a distinct possibility.

    The response is also not wrong. The fact that the campaign for the most powerful position on Earth produces front-runners like Trump and Hillary Clinton is a wonderful argument for limited government. It is a stunning indictment of the notion that we should allow much in our lives to be directed by politics and elections. But there is also a trap in dismissing Trump’s supporters as fools or haters. To be sure, they are badly mistaken, and there is certainly a good measure of racial resentment, if not racism, in Trump’s appeal.

    But things happen for a reason. Populism, however ugly and ignorant, needs some real grievance upon which to work.

    Trump’s invocation of the “poorly educated” was neither the cynical admission of a con artist (although he is that) or simply a statement of solidarity with those who resent our elites. It was a dog whistle directed at those who believe that politics as usual has left them behind.

    On the left, there are both sympathetic and unsympathetic explanations for Trump’s success. The unsympathetic explanation is that this is all conservatism come home to roost. In this view, the American right has always been about hate and Trump is simply serving it up in larger and undiluted doses.

    There are two problems with this explanation. The first is that it assumes a large number of people are motivated by nothing other than hate and ignorance. This is almost always a mistake. The other is that the organized right — consisting of movement conservatives — regards Trump as antithetical to everything that they believe in: limited government, individual freedom, free markets.

    The more sympathetic explanation sees Trump’s support as a conscious rejection of traditional conservative policies. Trump voters, according to this view, have decided that they don’t want lower taxes and smaller government. They want redistribution of income but are simply seeking it in the wrong place. Today’s Trumpkins could be tomorrow’s Sandernistas.

    I don’t think so. Trump’s supporters may not be Randian libertarians, but they don’t seem interested in a handout. They may feel that the political establishment has little regard for the working class, but they see the Democrats as a coalition of people who are not like them: racial and sexual minorities, union members, government workers and limousine liberals.

    I don’t pretend to fully understand what’s going on. Part of it may be no more sophisticated than the sad fact that you can fool some of the people for quite some time. But the misguided and tragic support for Trump might also be a response to the failings of politicians on the left and the right. The left has lost the white working class because of its unconcealed contempt for the great unwashed who cling to their God and their guns. It is beside itself because a football team is named the Redskins, while it regularly makes sport of rednecks. It has forgotten that the American working class is not a European proletariat. Joe and Jill Sixpack understand, at some level, that American exceptionalism has worked for them, even if all of their aspirations have not yet been achieved. Denmark doesn’t look good to them.

    But, in the wake of the financial crisis and a perception (however unfair) that capitalism failed to deliver, some Republicans feel the GOP has been indifferent to them. Trump’s working-class voters believe that Republicans, like the Democrats, are also on “someone else’s side,” i.e., business and the wealthy. It would be easy — and not completely wrong — to say that politicians must accept where people are. But I’d like to believe that reason and evidence still have space to work. And that’s exactly what happened in Wisconsin. In theory, our Rust Belt state should have been, like Michigan and Illinois before us, Trump territory. But Trump lost here on April 5, and it was no accident. While his core supporters did not waiver, conservatives in Wisconsin were largely united behind a single candidate and motivated by a desire not only to choose a candidate, but to save a movement. No matter what happens nationally,

    It would be easy — and not completely wrong — to say that politicians must accept where people are. But I’d like to believe that reason and evidence still have space to work. And that’s exactly what happened in Wisconsin.

    In theory, our Rust Belt state should have been, like Michigan and Illinois before us, Trump territory. But Trump lost here on April 5, and it was no accident. While his core supporters did not waiver, conservatives in Wisconsin were largely united behind a single candidate and motivated by a desire not only to choose a candidate, but to save a movement.

    No matter what happens nationally, Wisconsin may have shown the way forward for conservatives. Over the past five years, we have developed a fantastic conservative infrastructure made up of think tanks and advocacy groups that have explained conservative ideas, not just conservative resentment. The activity of these groups has been augmented by conservative talk radio hosts who are a cut above — actually several cuts above — those found elsewhere and nationally. Our conservative politicians have cared about policy, not just the polls.

    Here in Wisconsin, we have shown that ideas and reasoned discourse matter. Nationally, I am afraid that conservatives may be facing a time in the wilderness. In Wisconsin, we have demonstrated the way out and have begun to move forward.

    I suspect that we have a lot of work to do.

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  • Consistent in their inconsistency

    April 26, 2016
    US politics

    The Democrats’ and Republicans’ mirror images made news for being themselves last week.

    Politico reports:

    There is “almost the question as to why” cigarettes are legal in the United States, Bernie Sanders said in an interview aired Sunday on NBC’s “Meet the Press.”

    The remark came as Sanders explained his opposition to a proposed tax on sugary drinks in Philadelphia, which would fund pre-kindergarten education, reiterating that it is a “totally regressive tax” that results in poorer people paying even more in taxes if they buy a bottle of soda.

    When moderator Chuck Todd asked him if he felt the same way about cigarette taxes, Sanders said he did not.

    “Cigarette taxes are — there’s a difference between cigarettes and soda,” the Vermont senator said. “I am aware of the obesity problem in this country.”

    Todd replied, “I don’t think Michael Bloomberg would agree with you on that one,” referring to the former New York mayor’s infamous effort to limit the size of sugary drinks sold in the city. (The state’s highest court in 2014 ruled that the city had overstepped its regulatory bounds by implementing the rule.)

    “Well, that’s fine. He can have his point of view,” Sanders said. “But cigarettes are causing cancer, obviously, and a dozen other diseases. And there is almost the question as to why it remains a legal product in this country.”

    I have a hard time believing Sanders opposes “soda taxes.” I do not have a hard time believing that Sanders would favor bans on cigarettes. I do wonder how potential Sanders voters in tobacco states feel about his position. I also wonder how banning cigarettes and legalizing marijuana, both of which are smoked, is logically consistent, as well as Sanders’ apparent amnesia over the most famous attempt to federally ban something bad for you if misused, Prohibition.

    Meanwhile, there is The Donald, of whom The Daily Wire reports:

    Thursday morning, asked on the Today Show whether he believed in raising taxes on the wealthy, Donald Trump, the frontrunner for the GOP nomination for president, gave a reply that illuminated how much of a Democrat in GOP clothing the Orange-Haired One is, replying, “I do, I do.”

    As time passes, Trump is becoming almost indistinguishable from Bernie Sanders. Daily Wire Editor-in-Chief saw this back in February, in a piece delineating how alike the two men were on numerous policies. For the sake of solely concentrating on their similarities vis-à-vis economic policy, here’s Shapiro’s section on that:

    They’re both anti-establishment candidates who bash Wall Street. Here’s Trump from his victory speech last night:

    It’s special interests’ money, and this is on both sides. This is on the Republican side, the Democrat side, money just pouring into commercials. These are special interests, folks. These are lobbyists. These are people that don’t necessarily love our country. They don’t have the best interests of the country at heart.

    Here’s Sanders from his victory speech last night:

    We have sent a message that will echo from Wall Street to Washington, from Maine to California, and that is that the government of our great country belongs to all of the people and not just a handful of wealthy campaign contributors, and their Super PACs.

    Of course, when Trump says he believes in raising taxes on the wealthy, he also believes he will cunningly outsmart the system. As he said in January, “I mean, I pay as little as possible. I use every single thing in the book.”

    Trump has boasted that his tax plan would help working people, but that simply is another Trumpian lie. As Robert Shapiro, chairman of economics and security advisory firm Sonecon, pointed out, “To the extent he says he’s fighting for working people, his tax plan refutes that — it’s a complete refutation. He’s fighting for himself, and those like him, at the very top of the income distribution. That’s what his policies do.” Shapiro added, “He’s actually going to provide a much larger tax break to hedge funds and private equity fund general partners than what the carried-interest loophole does.” …

    Trump may say he’s for raising taxes on the wealthy just to curry favor with Democrats and establishment Republicans, but it simply isn’t true. And by saying he would do so, any credibility of Trump being a conservative is ripped to shreds.

    Mick Staton adds:

    I have argued for a long time now that Donald Trump’s “conversion” to Conservatism after a lifetime of being a Liberal Democrat was nothing more than a sales pitch to win him votes in the Republican primary.  You don’t just change your mind on every single major political issue (abortion, gun control, taxes, health care, immigration, trade) and expect people to take your word for it.

    Now, however, we see more of the real Donald Trump shining through as he is already abandoning conservative positions before he has even won the nomination.  During an NBC Town Hall today, Trump made major moves to the left on two key social issues: abortion, and allowing transgender men to use the girl’s bathroom.

    When asked about the current issues over the North Carolina law that requires people to use the bathroom based on the gender listed on their birth certificate, Trump sided with the Leftists and the Boycotters and declared that people should be able to use whatever bathroom they feel like.  It is absolutely amazing that the “front runner” for the GOP nomination for President sides with the “Social Justice Warriors” against families. …

    So for all of you who are supporting Donald Trump, are you now starting to wonder just what kind of President he’s going to be?  Do you think he’s going to stand up for religious liberty?  Do you think he’s going to put a hard core conservative on the Supreme Court?  Seriously, ask yourself this question:

    Did a 69 year old man who has been a Liberal Democrat all his life suddenly have a “Road to Damascus” conversion on every single important political issue we face today, right before he decided to run for President, or is a consummate salesman telling you exactly what you want to hear?

     

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  • Presty the DJ for April 26

    April 26, 2016
    Music

    Imagine having tickets to today’s 1964 NME winner’s poll concert at Wembley Empire Pool in London:

    (more…)

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  • Smug liberals (but I repeat myself)

    April 25, 2016
    Culture, media, US politics

    It’s remarkable to me that the liberal Vox allowed this to be published:

    There is a smug style in American liberalism. It has been growing these past decades. It is a way of conducting politics, predicated on the belief that American life is not divided by moral difference or policy divergence — not really — but by the failure of half the country to know what’s good for them.

    In 2016, the smug style has found expression in media and in policy, in the attitudes of liberals both visible and private, providing a foundational set of assumptions above which a great number of liberals comport their understanding of the world.

    It has led an American ideology hitherto responsible for a great share of the good accomplished over the past century of our political life to a posture of reaction and disrespect: a condescending, defensive sneer toward any person or movement outside of its consensus, dressed up as a monopoly on reason.

    The smug style is a psychological reaction to a profound shift in American political demography.

    Beginning in the middle of the 20th century, the working class, once the core of the coalition, began abandoning the Democratic Party. In 1948, in the immediate wake of the Franklin Roosevelt, 66 percent of manual laborers voted for Democrats, along with 60 percent of farmers. In 1964, it was 55 percent of working-class voters. By 1980, it was 35 percent.

    The white working class in particular saw even sharper declines. Despite historic advantages with both poor and middle-class white voters, by 2012 Democrats possessed only a 2-point advantage among poor white voters. Among white voters making between $30,000 and $75,000 per year, the GOP has taken a 17-point lead.

    The consequence was a shift in liberalism’s center of intellectual gravity. A movement once fleshed out in union halls and little magazines shifted into universities and major press, from the center of the country to its cities and elite enclaves. Minority voters remained, but bereft of the material and social capital required to dominate elite decision-making, they were largely excluded from an agenda driven by the new Democratic core: the educated, the coastal, and the professional.

    It is not that these forces captured the party so much as it fell to them. When the laborer left, they remained.

    The origins of this shift are overdetermined. Richard Nixon bears a large part of the blame, but so does Bill Clinton. The evangelical revival, yes, but the destruction of labor unions, too. I have my own sympathies, but I do not propose to adjudicate that question here.

    Suffice it to say, by the 1990s the better part of the working class wanted nothing to do with the word liberal. What remained of the American progressive elite was left to puzzle: What happened to our coalition?

    Why did they abandon us?

    What’s the matter with Kansas?

    The smug style arose to answer these questions. It provided an answer so simple and so emotionally satisfying that its success was perhaps inevitable: the theory that conservatism, and particularly the kind embraced by those out there in the country, was not a political ideology at all.

    The trouble is that stupid hicks don’t know what’s good for them. They’re getting conned by right-wingers and tent revivalists until they believe all the lies that’ve made them so wrong. They don’t know any better. That’s why they’re voting against their own self-interest.

    As anybody who has gone through a particularly nasty breakup knows, disdain cultivated in the aftermath of a divide quickly exceeds the original grievance. You lose somebody. You blame them. Soon, the blame is reason enough to keep them at a distance, the excuse to drive them even further away.

    Finding comfort in the notion that their former allies were disdainful, hapless rubes, smug liberals created a culture animated by that contempt. The rubes noticed and replied in kind. The result is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

    Financial incentive compounded this tendency — there is money, after all, in reassuring the bitter. Over 20 years, an industry arose to cater to the smug style. It began in humor, and culminated for a time in The Daily Show, a program that more than any other thing advanced the idea that liberal orthodoxy was a kind of educated savvy and that its opponents were, before anything else, stupid. The smug liberal found relief in ridiculing them.

    The internet only made it worse. Today, a liberal who finds himself troubled by the currents of contemporary political life need look no further than his Facebook newsfeed to find the explanation:

    Study finds Daily Show viewers more informed than viewers of Fox News.

    They’re beating CNN watchers too.

    NPR listeners are best informed of all. He likes that.

    You’re better off watching nothing than watching Fox. He likes that even more.

    The good news doesn’t stop.

    Liberals aren’t just better informed. They’re smarter.

    They’ve got better grammar. They know more words.

    Smart kids grow up to be liberals, while conservatives reason like drunks.

    Liberals are better able to process new information; they’re less biased like that. They’ve got different brains. Better ones. Why? Evolution. They’ve got better brains, top-notch amygdalae, science finds.

    The smug style created a feedback loop. If the trouble with conservatives was ignorance, then the liberal impulse was to correct it. When such corrections failed, disdain followed after it.

    Of course, there is a smug style in every political movement: elitism among every ideology believing itself in possession of the solutions to society’s ills. But few movements have let the smug tendency so corrupt them, or make so tenuous its case against its enemies.

    “Conservatives are always at a bit of a disadvantage in the theater of mass democracy,” the conservative editorialist Kevin Williamson wrote in National Review last October, “because people en masse aren’t very bright or sophisticated, and they’re vulnerable to cheap, hysterical emotional appeals.”

    The smug style thinks Williamson is wrong, of course, but not in principle. It’s only that he’s confused about who the hordes of stupid, hysterical people are voting for. The smug style reads Williamson and says, “No! You!”

    Elites, real elites, might recognize one another by their superior knowledge. The smug recognize one another by their mutual knowing.

    Knowing, for example, that the Founding Fathers were all secular deists. Knowing that you’re actually, like, 30 times more likely to shoot yourself than an intruder. Knowing that those fools out in Kansas are voting against their own self-interest and that the trouble is Kansas doesn’t know any better. Knowing all the jokes that signal this knowledge.

    The studies, about Daily Show viewers and better-sized amygdalae, are knowing. It is the smug style’s first premise: a politics defined by a command of the Correct Facts and signaled by an allegiance to the Correct Culture. A politics that is just the politics of smart people in command of Good Facts. A politics that insists it has no ideology at all, only facts. No moral convictions, only charts, the kind that keep them from “imposing their morals” like the bad guys do.

    Knowing is the shibboleth into the smug style’s culture, a cultural that celebrates hip commitments and valorizes hip taste, that loves nothing more than hate-reading anyone who doesn’t get them. A culture that has come to replace politics itself.

    The knowing know that police reform, that abortion rights, that labor unions are important, but go no further: What is important, after all, is to signal that you know these things. What is important is to launch links and mockery at those who don’t. The Good Facts are enough: Anybody who fails to capitulate to them is part of the Problem, is terminally uncool. No persuasion, only retweets. Eye roll, crying emoji, forward to John Oliver for sick burns. …

    On June 26, 2015, the Supreme Court found that denying marriage licenses to same-sex couples constituted a violation of the 14th Amendment. After decades of protests, legislation, setbacks, and litigation, the 13 states still holding out against the inevitable were ordered to relent. Kim Davis, a clerk tasked with issuing marriage licenses to couples in her Kentucky county, refused. …

    But a more fundamental element of smug disdain for Kim Davis went unchallenged: the contention, at bottom, that Davis was not merely wrong in her convictions, but that her convictions were, in themselves, an error and a fraud.

    That is: Kim Davis was not only on the wrong side of the law. She was not even a subscriber to a religious ideology that had found itself at moral odds with American culture. Rather, she was a subscriber to nothing, a hateful bigot who did not even understand her own religion.

    Christianity, as many hastened to point out, is about love. Christ commands us to render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s. If the Bible took any position on the issue at all, it was that divorce, beloved by Davis, was a sin, and that she was a hypocrite masquerading among the faithful.

    How many of these critiques were issued by atheists?

    This, more than anything I can recall in recent American life, is an example of the smug style. Many liberals do not believe that evangelical Christianity ought to guide public life; many believe, moreover, that the moral conceits of that Christianity are wrong, even harmful to society. But to the smug liberal, it isn’t that Kim Davis is wrong. How can she be? She’s only mistaken. She just doesn’t know the Good Facts, even about her own religion. She’s angry and confused, another hick who’s not with it.

    It was an odd thing to assert in the case of Christianity, a religion that until recently was taken to be another shibboleth of the uncool, not a loving faith misunderstood by bigots. But this is knowing: knowing that the new line on Jesus is that the homophobes just don’t get their own faith.

    Kim Davis was behind the times. Her beliefs did not represent a legitimate challenge to liberal consensus because they did not represent a challenge at all: They were incoherent, at odds with the Good Facts. Google makes every man a theologian.

    This, I think, is fundamental to understanding the smug style. If good politics and good beliefs are just Good Facts and good tweets — that is, if there is no ideology beyond sensible conclusions drawn from a rational assessment of the world — then there are no moral fights, only lying liars and the stupid rubes who believe them. …

    In November of last year, during the week when it became temporarily fashionable for American governors to declare that Syrian refugees would not be welcome in their state, Hamilton Nolan wrote an essay for Gawker called “Dumb Hicks Are America’s Greatest Threat.”

    If there has ever been a tirade so dedicated to the smug style, to the proposition that it is neither malice, nor capital, nor ideological difference, but rather the backward stupidity of poor people that has ruined the state of American policy, then it is hidden beyond our view, in some uncool place, far from the front page of Gawker.

    “Many of America’s political leaders are warning of the dangers posed by Syrian refugees. They are underestimating, though, the much greater danger: dumbass hicks, in charge of things,” Nolan wrote. “…You, our elected officials, are embarrassing us. All of us, except your fellow dumb hicks, who voted for you in large numbers. You — our racist, xenophobic, knuckle-dragging ignorant leaders — are making us look bad in front of the guests (the whole world). You are the bad cousin in the family who always ruins Thanksgiving. Go in the back room and drink a can of beer alone please.”

    Among the dumb hicks Nolan identifies are “many Southern mayors” and “many lesser known state representatives.” He cites the Ku Klux Klan — “exclusively dumbass hicks,” he writes. “100%,” he emphasizes — despite the fact that the New York Times, in an investigation of white supremacist members of Stormfront.org, found that “the top reported interest of Stormfront members is reading.” That they are “news and political junkies.” Despite the fact that if “you come compare Stormfront users to people who go to the Yahoo News site, it turns out that the Stormfront crowd is twice as likely to visit nytimes.com.”

    “They have long threads praising Breaking Bad and discussing the comparative merits of online dating sites, like Plenty of Fish and OKCupid,” the Times reports.

    In another piece, published later the same month, Nolan wrote that “Inequality of wealth — or, if you like, the distribution of wealth in our society in a way that results in poverty — is not just one issue among many. It is the root from which blooms nearly all major social problems.”

    He’s right about that. But who does he imagine is responsible for this inequality? The poor? The dumb? The hicks? …

    Nolan is perhaps the funniest and most articulate of those pointing fingers at the “dumbass hicks,” but he isn’t alone. It is evidently intolerable to a huge swath of liberalism to confess the obvious: that those responsible have homes in Brooklyn, too. That they buy the same smartphones. That they too are on Twitter. That the oligarchs are making fun of stupid poor people too. That they’re better at it, and always will be.

    No: The trouble must be out there, somewhere. In the country. Where the idiots are; where the hicks are too stupid to know where problems blossom.

    “To the dumb hick leaders of America, I say: (nothing). You wouldn’t listen anyhow,” Nolan writes. “My words would go in one ear and right out the other. Like talking to an old block of wood.”

    It’s a shame. They might be receptive to his concerns about poverty.

    If there is a single person who exemplifies the dumbass hick in the smug imagination, it is former President George W. Bush. He’s got the accent. He can’t talk right. He seems stupefied by simple concepts, and his politics are all gee-whiz Texas ignorance. He is the ur-hick. He is the enemy.

    He got all the way to White House, and he’s still being taken for a ride by the scheming rightwing oligarchs around him — just like those poor rubes in Kansas. If only George knew Dick Cheney wasn’t acting in his own best interests!

    It is worth considering that Bush is the son of a president, a patrician born in Connecticut and educated at Andover and Harvard and Yale.

    It is worth considering that he does not come from a family known for producing poor minds.

    It is worth considering that beginning with his 1994 gubernatorial debate against Ann Richards, and at every juncture thereafter, opponents have been defeated after days of media outlets openly speculating whether George was up to the mental challenge of a one-on-one debate.

    “Throughout his short political career,” ABC’s Katy Textor wrote on the eve of the 2000 debates against Al Gore, “Bush has benefited from low expectations of his debating abilities. The fact that he skipped no less than three GOP primary debates, and the fact that he was reluctant to agree to the Commission on Presidential Debates proposal, has done little to contradict the impression of a candidate uncomfortable with this unavoidable fact of campaign life.”

    “Done little to contradict.”

    On November 6, 2000, during his final pre-election stump speech, Bush explained his history of political triumph thusly: “They misunderesimated me.”

    What an idiot. American liberals made fun of him for that one for years.

    It is worth considering that he didn’t misspeak.

    He did, however, deliberately cultivate the confusion. He understood the smug style. He wagered that many liberals, eager to see their opponents as intellectually deficient, would buy into the act and thereby miss the more pernicious fact of his moral deficits.

    He wagered correctly. Smug liberals said George was too stupid to get elected, too stupid to get reelected, too stupid to pass laws or appoint judges or weather a political fight. Liberals misunderestimated George W. Bush all eight years of his presidency.

    George W. Bush is not a dumbass hick. In eight years, all the sick Daily Show burns in the world did not appreciably undermine his agenda.

    The smug mind defends itself against these charges. Oh, we‘re just having fun, it says.We don’t mean it. This is just for a laugh, it’s just a joke, stop being so humorless.

    It is exasperating, after all, to have to live in a country where so many people are so aggressively wrong about so much, they say. You go on about ideology and shibboleths and knowing, but we are right on the issues, aren’t we? We are right on social policy and right on foreign policy and right on evolution, and same-sex marriage, and climate change too. Surely that’s what matters.

    We don’t really mean they’re all stupid — but hey, lay off. We’re not smug! This is just how we vent our frustration. Otherwise it would be too depressing having to share a country with these people!

    We have long passed the point where blithe ridicule of the American right can be credibly cast as private stress relief and not, for instance, the animating public strategy of an entire wing of the liberal culture apparatus. The Daily Show, as it happens, is not the private entertainment of elites blowing off some steam. It is broadcast on national television.

    Twitter isn’t private. Not that anybody with the sickest burn to accompany the smartest chart would want it to be. Otherwise, how would everyone know how in-the-know you are?

    The rubes have seen your videos. You posted it on their wall.

    Still don’t get why liberal opinion is correct? This video settles the debate for good.

    I have been wondering for a long time how it is that so many entries to the op-ed pages take it as their justifying premise that they are arguing for a truth that has never been advanced before.

    “It’s an accepted, nearly unchallenged assumption that Muslim communities across the U.S. have a problem — that their youth tend toward violent ideology, or are susceptible to “radicalization” by groups like the Islamic State,” began an editorial that appeared last December in the New York Times. But “after all,” it goes on, “the majority of mass shootings in America are perpetrated by white men but no one questions what might have radicalized them in their communities.”

    But this contention — that Muslims possess superlative violent tendencies — has been challenged countless times, hasn’t it? It was challenged here, and here and here as far back as 9/11. The president of the United State challenged it on national television the night before this editorial was published. The Times itself did too. The myopic provincialism of anybody who believes that Muslims are a uniquely violent people is the basis of a five-year-old Onion headline, not some new moral challenge.

    The smug style leaves its adherents no other option: If an idea has failed to take hold, if the Good Facts are not widely accepted, then the problem must be that these facts have not yet reached the disbelievers.

    In December 2015, Public Policy Polling found that 30 percent of Republicans were in favor of bombing Agrabah, the Arab-sounding fictional city from Disney’s Aladdin. Hilarious.

    PPP has run joke questions before, of course: polling the popularity of Deez Nuts, or asking after God’s job approval. But these questions, at least, let their audience in on the gag. Now liberalism is deliberately setting up the last segment of the population actually willing to endure a phone survey in service of what it knew would make for some hilarious copy when the rubes inevitably fell for it. This is not a survey in service of a joke — it is a survey in service of a human punchline.

    As if only Republicans covered up gaps in their knowledge by responding to what they assume is a good-faith question by guessing from their general principles.

    It may be easy to mistake with the private venting of frustrated elites, but the rubes can read the New York Times, too. It is not where liberals whisper to each other about the secret things that go unchallenged. Poll respondents are not the secret fodder for a joke.

    This is the consequence of “private” venting, and it is the consequence of knowing too: If good politics comes solely from good data and good sense, it cannot be that large sections of the American public are merely wrong about so many vital things. It cannot be that they have heard our arguments but rejected them — that might mean we must examine our own methods of persuasion.

    No: it is only that the wrong beliefs are unchallenged — that their believers are trapped in “information bubbles” and confirmation bias. That no one knows the truth, except the New York Times (or Vox). If only we could tell them, question them, show them this graph. If they don’t get it then, well, then they’re hopeless.

    The smug style plays out in private too, of course. If you haven’t started one yourself, you’ve surely seen the Facebook threads: Ten or 20 of Brooklyn’s finest gather to say how exasperated they are, these days, by the stupidity of the American public.

    “I just don’t know what to do about these people,” one posts. “I think we have to accept that a lot of people are just misinformed!” replies another. “Like, I think they actually don’t want to know anything that would undermine their worldview.”

    They tend to do it in the comment section, under an article about how conservatives are difficult to persuade because they isolate themselves in mutually reinforcing information bubbles.

    What have been the consequences of the smug style?

    It has become a tradition for the smug, in editorials and essay and confident Facebook boasting, to assume that the presidential debates will feature their candidate, in command of the facts, wiping the floor with the empty huckster ignorance of their Republican opponent.

    It was popularly assumed, for a time, that George W. Bush was too stupid to be elected president.

    The smug believed the same of Ronald Reagan.

    John Yoo, the architect of the Bush administration’s torture policies, escaped The Daily Show unscathed. Liberals wondered what to do when Jon Stewart fails. What would success look like? Were police waiting in the wings, a one-way ticket to the Hague if Stewart nailed him?

    It would be unfair to say that the smug style has never learned from these mistakes. But the lesson has been, We underestimated how many people could be fooled.

    That is: We underestimated just how dumb these dumb hicks really are.

    We just didn’t get our message to them. They just stayed in their information bubble. We can’t let the lying liars keep lying to these people — but how do we reach these idiots who only trust Fox?

    Rarely: Maybe they’re savvier than we thought. Maybe they’re angry for a reason.

    As it happens, reasons aren’t too difficult to come by.

    During a San Francisco fundraiser in the 2008 primary campaign, Barack Obama offered an observation that was hailed not without some glee as the first unforced error from then-Senator Cool.

    “You go into these small towns in Pennsylvania,” Obama said, “and, like, a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothing’s replaced them. And they fell through the Clinton administration, and the Bush administration, and each successive administration has said that somehow these communities are gonna regenerate, and they have not. And it’s not surprising then they get bitter. They cling to guns or religion or antipathy toward people who aren’t like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations.”

    It’s the latter part that we remember eight years later — the clinging to guns and religion and hate — but it is the first part that was important: the part about lost jobs and neglect by two presidential administrations.

    Obama’s observation was not novel.

    The notion that material loss and abandonment have driven America’s white working class into a fit of resentment is boilerplate for even the Democratic Party’s tepid left these days. But in the president’s formulation and in the formulation of smug stylists who have embraced some material account of uncool attitudes, the downturn, the jobs lost and the opportunities narrowed, are a force of nature — something that has “been happening” in the passive voice. …

    If any single event provided the direct impetus for this essay, it was a running argument I had with an older, liberal writer over the seriousness of Donald Trump’s presidential campaign. Since June 2015, when Trump announced his candidacy, this writer has taken it upon himself each day to tell his Facebook followers that Donald Trump is a bad kind of dude.

    That saying as much was the key to stopping him and his odious followers too.

    “Ridicule is the most powerful weapon we have against any of our enemies,” he told me in the end, “but especially against the ones who, not incorrectly, take it so personally and lash out in ways that shine klieg lights on those very flaws we detest.

    “If you’re laughing at someone, you’re certainly not respecting him.”

    “Anyway,” he went on, “I’m done talking to you. We see the world differently. I’m fine with that. We don’t need to be friends.”

    Ridicule is the most effective political tactic.

    Ridicule is especially effective when it’s personal and about expressing open disdain for stupid, bad people.

    Political legitimacy is granted by the respect of elite liberals.

    You can’t be legitimate if you’re the butt of our jokes.

    If you don’t agree, we can’t work together politically.

    We can’t even be friends, because politics is social.

    Because politics is performative — if we don’t mock together, we aren’t on the same side.

    If there is a bingo card for the smug style somewhere, then cross off every square. You’ve won. …

    Nothing is more confounding to the smug style than the fact that the average Republican is better educated and has a higher IQ than the average Democrat. That for every overpowered study finding superior liberal open-mindedness and intellect and knowledge, there is one to suggest that Republicans have the better of these qualities.

    Most damning, perhaps, to the fancy liberal self-conception: Republicans score higher in susceptibility to persuasion. They are willing to change their minds more often.

    The Republican coalition tends toward the center: educated enough, smart enough, informed enough.

    The Democratic coalition in the 21st century is bifurcated: It has the postgraduates, but it has the disenfranchised urban poor as well, a group better defined by race and immigration status than by class. There are more Americans without high school diplomas than in possession of doctoral degrees. The math proceeds from there.

    The smug style takes this as a defense. Elite liberalism, and the Democratic Party by extension, cannot hate poor people, they say. We aren’t smug! Just look at our coalition. These aren’t rubes. Just look at our embrace of their issues.

    But observe how quickly professed concern for the oppressed becomes another shibboleth for the smug, another kind of knowing. Mere awareness of these issues becomes the most important thing, the capacity to articulate them a new subset of Correct Facts.

    Everyone in the know has read “The Case for Reparations,” but it was the reading and performed admiration that counted, praised in the same breath as, “It is a better historythan an actual case for actually paying, of course…”

    Pretend for a moment that all of it is true. That the smug style apprehended the world as it really is, that knowing — or knowing, no inflection — did make our political divide. That the problem is the rubes. That the dumbass hicks are to blame. They can’t help it: Their brains don’t work. They isolate themselves from all the Good Facts, and they’re being taken for a ride by con men.

    Pretend the ridicule worked too: that the videos and the Twitter burns and destroyingthe opposition made all the bad guys go away.

    What kind of world would it leave us? An endless cycle of jokes? Of sick burns and smart tweets and knowing? Relative to whom? The smug style demands an object of disdain; it would find a new one quickly.

    It is central to the liberal self-conception that what separates them from reactionaries is a desire to help people, a desire to create a fairer and more just world. Liberals still want, or believe they still want, to make a more perfect union.

    Whether you believe they are deluded or not, whether you believe this project is worthwhile in any form or not, what I am trying to tell you is that the smug style has fundamentally undermined even the aspiration, that it has made American liberalism into the worst version of itself.

    It is impossible, in the long run, to cleave the desire to help people from the duty to respect them. It becomes all at once too easy to decide you know best, to never hear, much less ignore, protest to the contrary.

    At present, many of those most in need of the sort of help liberals believe they can provide despise liberalism, and are despised in turn. Is it surprising that with each decade, the “help” on offer drifts even further from the help these people need?

    Even if the two could be separated, would it be worth it? What kind of political movement is predicated on openly disdaining the very people it is advocating for?

    The smug style, at bottom, is a failure of empathy. Further: It is a failure to believe that empathy has any value at all. It is the notion that anybody worthy of liberal time and attention and respect must capitulate, immediately, to the Good Facts.

    If they don’t (and they won’t, no matter how much of your Facts you make them consume), you’re free to write them off and mock them. When they suffer, it’s their just desserts.

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  • A new member of the pod people

    April 25, 2016
    media

    I am a guest on News & Notes, former radio newsman Jeff McAndrew’s podcast, at this site. I will not age us by pointing out that I’ve known Jeff since a year beginning with the number “19.”

    Discussions include former employers and the growing national disgrace that is our presidential campaign.The fact I managed to talk for 42 minutes despite getting over the Scarlet Plague will surprise no one who knows me.

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  • Presty the DJ for April 25

    April 25, 2016
    Music

    The number one single today in 1960:

    The number one single today in 1970:

    The number one album today in 1987 was U2’s “The Joshua Tree”:

    (more…)

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  • Presty the DJ for April 24

    April 24, 2016
    Music

    The number one British single today in 1955:

    The number one British single today in 1959:

    The number one single today in 1961:

    (more…)

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  • Presty the DJ for April 23

    April 23, 2016
    Music

    The number one British single today in 1964 was written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney, but not performed by any of the Beatles:

    The number one British single today in 1969:

    The number one single today in 1977:

    (more…)

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  • Sign O the times

    April 22, 2016
    Culture, Music

    This was shocking news yesterday for those around my age, from the Minneapolis Star Tribune:

    Legendary Minnesota pop musician Prince was found dead Thursday morning at his Paisley Park recording studio complex in Chanhassen, the Associated Press has confirmed from his publicist. He was 57.

    Immediately upon hearing the news, mourners began lining up with flowers and stuffed animals outside the studio on Audubon Road, some sobbing and embracing. Shocked condolences flooded social media. Lawmakers paused for a moment of silence at a state legislative hearing.

    Fans touched a star bearing his name painted on the First Avenue music club in downtown Minneapolis, the “Purple Rain” site where he played often early in his career.

    “Our hearts are broken,” First Avenue said on Facebook. “Prince was the Patron Saint of First Avenue. He grew up on this stage, and then commanded it, and he united our city. It is difficult to put into words the impact his death will have on the entire music community, and the world. As the tragic news sinks in, our thoughts are with Prince’s family, friends, and fans.”

    Former KMSP anchor Robyne Robinson, who interviewed Prince several times and maintained a personal relationship, said she was working with University of Minnesota to give Prince an honorary music degree in June and Prince had tentatively agreed.

    “He was a genius,” she said, tearfully. “He was an amazingly generous man to this community and to his people. There’s no one that will match his brilliance. His genorisity was really endless … I’ll be a fan until the day I die.”

    Prince’s childhood friend and early bandmate André Cymone said he traded messages with him from Los Angeles last weekend after the reports of his illness on a plane flight.

    “He said he was doing OK and we’d try to hook up next time he was in LA,” said Cymone, whose mother took Prince into her home in his midteens when his relationship with his parents got too strained. “I’m just devastated now. I’m in utter disbelief. It’s such a tragedy.” …

    The news of his death came less than a week after Prince’s private plane made an emergency landing early Friday morning in Illinois as he was returning to the Twin Cities from two shows in Atlanta on Thursday.

    Afterward, a source close to Prince told the Star Tribune that the singer was dehydrated on the flight home. Prince himself wanted to clarify the situation on Saturday, saying, “Wait a few days before you waste any prayers.”

    Prince was inducted into the Rock ‘n’ Roll of Fame in 2004. Standing just 5 feet, 2 inches tall, he seemed to summon the most original and compelling sounds at will, whether playing guitar in a flamboyant style that openly drew upon Jimi Hendrix, switching his vocals from a nasally scream to an erotic falsetto or turning out album after album of stunningly original material. Among his other notable releases: “Sign O’ the Times,” “Graffiti Bridge” and “The Black Album.”

    He was also fiercely protective of his independence, battling his record company over control of his material and even his name. Prince once wrote “slave” on his face in protest of not owning his work and famously battled and then departed his label, Warner Bros., before returning a few years ago.

    https://vimeo.com/150445815

    Prince’s protectiveness of his independence extended to the ability of anyone to hear his work online without paying for it. I wasn’t able to find much online beyond the NFL Films account of Prince’s Super Bowl XLI performance in, yes, rain. Those of my age will recall when for a few years he was called “The Artist Formerly Known as Prince,” with an unpronounceable symbol, in said dispute with said record company.

    On Milwaukee details the meeting with a Wisconsin rock group and what could have been:

    Shortly after Prince’s sudden and tragic death early this afternoon, OnMilwaukee happened to meet up with Milwaukee musician (and OnMilwaukee contributor) Victor DeLorenzo, who had a fun story and a few thoughts to share about the late musical icon.

    OnMilwaukee: Do you have any Prince stories?

    Victor DeLorenzo: Well, the one incredible Prince story I have to relay is the time when the Violent Femmes were in Los Angeles, and we were working on a record that eventually became “Why Do Birds Sing?” We were working on some of the recording with Prince’s engineer, Susan Rogers, and we had a great time with Susan. We were doing final mixes over at a studio called Larrabee, and this was a studio complex – we were in one studio, and in the studio next to us, Prince was in the studio.

    So jokingly we said to Susan one afternoon when we were working, “Hey, why don’t you go next door and ask Prince if he’s got a song for us?” After doing this a number of times, she finally said, “OK, alright, I’ll go bother him!” So she goes over there.

    She’s gone about ten minutes, and we’re thinking, “Wow, what’s going to happen? What if he wants to come over and meet us? Or if he has a song?” Suddenly, she comes back into the studio we’re working in, and she says, “Prince has a song for you. He’s sending someone over to his archive, and they’ll get a cassette over to you later this afternoon.”

    So this cassette arrives, and it’s a song called “You’ve Got A Beautiful Ass.” And I think it did come out on one of his collections or compilations or outtakes or what have you. We had this cassette, and we listen to it, and I can remember the chorus: “You’ve got a wonderful ass; you’ve got a beautiful ass.” Or something to that effect. I think Gordon still probably has the cassette. But another mistake in a long line of many made by Violent Femmes, we never recorded it.

    Did you guys consider it?

    We did consider it! But at that time, we were thinking, “Wow, if we record something like this, is it going to be able to really get out there – even if we say it’s a Prince song – because of the subject matter and that?” Even though we’d had songs like “Girl Trouble” (sic) and “Add It Up” (sic) and all this other stuff, we still kind of thought, “Is that the right thing for us right now when we’re trying to get something really on the radio?”

    Did you think at the time that he was messing with you?

    No!

    You thought that was a song that he really thought would be great for you guys.

    Yeah, and I wish I had the cassette, because the song was really cool! I really liked the song.

    So he actually did put some thought into that.

    Yeah! It was like what I was just reading today; he’s got an archive of I don’t know how many thousands of songs that are just finished that are just sitting there. And that’s what Susan Rogers told us too. He would come in there to the studio and just record all the time. He would be there every day, just working on stuff.

    She would set up mics on the drum set; he would go out and play the drums first. Then he’d come in and play the bass to the drums. Then he’d do the guitars and do some keyboards. And then he’d say, “OK, Sue, it’s time for me to do my thing.” And then she would set up a mic behind the console, and she would leave for an hour or so. And he would sit there, and he would do all his vocals by himself.

    Would it have made a difference if the interaction had happened sooner? You were saying you were mixing the record by then, so basically the record was done. Would it have mattered if it could’ve been an album track?

    I like to think that anything could’ve happened the moment that cassette got into our hands. But, as you said, yes, the record was in the final stages of being mixed – even though we did take that whole record and remix it here in Milwaukee with Dave Vartanian. We didn’t track anything brand new; the record itself was finished.

    But who knows? If things would’ve gone another way, maybe we would’ve made time to do just a recording of that track and release it just as a single.

    In a more overarching way, what does Prince leave us with? I mean, this was not your average, ordinary musician; this is a guy who made a major contribution.

    I think what I most appreciate about Prince and his music is the mystery that was involved. I liked the fact that he infused so many different styles of music into his own and that he, much like a ’30s or ’40s Hollywood movie star, really banked on that persona of his, and the sexuality and the mystery surrounding it. So he was being sexy, but not in an overtly masculine or feminine way, which was very progressive at that time. Long before Madonna did her sex book or anything like that, this was something middle America had to confront.

    And being from Minneapolis! How amazing that you have these two cultural icons – Bob Dylan and Prince – coming out of Minnesota.

    And both craftsmen.

    Right! And prolific! Both so prolific.

    Nick Gillespie defines Prince’s role in the ’80s, including the overheating over song lyrics:

    Prince is dead and we look to see who might replace him and see no one on the horizon. As Brian Doherty so aptly puts it, “he was a bold rebel in terms of image and message, playing with still-prevalent social confines of propriety in behavior, dress, and comportment, mixing sex and religion like they were his own personal possession he was generous enough to share with us, destroying color lines in pop music and its fandom.”

    More than Michael Jackson and arguably even more than Madonna—to name two other ’80s icons who challenged all forms of social convention in a pop-music setting—Prince took us all to a strange new place that was better than the one we came from. (In this, his legacy recalls that of David Bowie.)

    In the wake of the social progress of the past several decades, it’s hard to recapture how threatening the Paisley One once seemed, this gender-bender guy who shredded guitar solos that put Jimi Hendrix or Eric Clapton to shame while prancing around onstage in skivvies and high heels. He was funkier than pre-criminality Rick James and minced around with less shame and self-consciousness than Liberace. Madonna broke sexual taboos by being sluttish, which was no small thing, but as a fey black man who surrounded himself with hotter-than-the-sun lady musicians, he was simultaneously the embodiment of campy Little Richard and that hoariest of White America boogeymen, the hypersexualized black man.

    No wonder he scared the living shit out of ultra-squares such as Al and Tipper Gore. In 1985, the future vice president and planet-saver and his wife were, as Tipper’s 1987 best-selling anti-rock, anti-Satanism, anti-sex manifesto put it,Raising PG Kids in an X-Rated Society. Tipper headed up the Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC), whose sacred document was a list of songs it called “The Filthy Fifteen.” These were songs that glorified sex, drugs, Satan, and masturbation and could pervert your kid—or even lead them to commit suicide. At number one on the list was Prince’s “Darling Nikki,” from his massive soundtrack record to Purple Rain (jeezus, wasn’t that movie a revelation? Of what exactly, I can’t remember, but finally, it seemed, a rock star had truly delivered on the genius we all wanted to see emerge from pop music into film). …

    In 1985, the Senate wasted its time and our money by holding a hearing on the dread menace of dirty lyrics and the whole bang-the-gong medley of backward masking, rock-induced suicide, and sexual promiscuity. Just a few years later, Al and Tipper would reinvent themselves as diehard Grateful Dead fans, the better to look hip while campaigning with Bill and Hillary Clinton (another couple of revanchist baby boomers who burned a hell of a lot time in the 1990s attacking broadcast TV and basic cable asimpossibily violent and desperately in need of regulation).

    But before pretending to grok the Dead, Al would showboat at “the first session on contents of music and the lyrics of records,” where he appeared as a witness in favor of the PMRC’s record-labeling system. Strangely enough, Al stressed—in front of a Senate subcommittee, mind you—that the government need not be involved.

    The two most important things I have learned which have changed my initial attitude to this whole concern are, No. 1, the proposals made by those concerned about this problem do not involve a Government role of any kind whatsoever. They are not asking for any form of censorship or regulation of speech in any manner, shape, or form.

    What they are asking for is whether or not the music industry can show some self-restraint and working together in a manner similar to that used by the movie industry, whether or not they can come up with a voluntary guide system for parents who wish to exercise what they believe to be their responsibilities to their children, to try to prevent their children from being exposed to material that is not appropriate for them.

    The second thing I have learned over the past several months is that the kind of material in question is really very different from the kind of material which has caused similar controversies in past generations. It really is very different, and I think those who have not become familiar with this material will realize that fact when they see some of the examples that involve extremely popular groups that get an awful lot of play, some of the most popular groups around now. …

    Tipper devoted an entire chapter of her book to “Playing With Fire: Heavy Metal Satanism” and called attention to the threat of…Dungeons and Dragons. “Many kids,” she wrote, “experiment with the deadly satanic game, and get hooked.”

    If all of this seems so, so, so long ago—and it does, thank god—we owe a huge debt to Prince and the people like him who soldiered on, expressing themselves as they saw fit, in free and unfettered ways. In fact, Prince did it not just with the content of his art, as he also experimented with new, direct ways of distribution, too, while (stupidly, IMO) eschewing the shift to digital and taking on what was at the time the most-powerful music label in the business. Depending on who you are, you might hate all or some of his music, or think his creative streak dried up somewhere around the time he became The Artist Formerly Known as Prince or started scrawling “SLAVE” on his cheeks…

    Yeah, sure, maybe.

    But there’s no denying that those of us who actually believe in free expression are standing on the tiny shoulders of Prince as surely as we are on the broad shoulders of Thomas Jefferson or George Mason. And upon Prince’s death, we owe it ourselves not only to praise his artistry and risk-taking but to shame the Al and Tipper Gores of the world, who tried so hard and so pathetically to force their narrow vision of what is right and proper upon this world of tears that beautiful, weird, and even dirty music makes slightly more bearable for a few minutes.

    (See? Conservatives knew Al Gore was an idiot well before Earth in the Balance.)

    Prince was described online yesterday as my generation’s Elvis. That’s a hard comparison to make, though his music appealed over more than one genre (had he done just rock he could certainly have stood up with any ’80s guitarist), he wrote songs for other acts, he made movies, and he sold bazillions of records. He was also a performer whose concerts (none of which I saw) were worth whatever you had to pay to see them.

    There was no one else like Prince.

     

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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?
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    • 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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