Joe the Plumber meet Octomom

Don't get your hopes up too much, but I think I may have an idea that, if it works out, could result in us all being rid of two of the most annoying presences in the mind-rotting national media circus. Of course, I'm talking about Joe the Plumber, and Octomom.

You remember Joe the Plumber, right? He was the hard-working Everyman from Ohio that challenged Barack Obama during the presidential campaign, saying to then-candidate Obama that his proposed tax plan, if enacted would prevent Joe from attaining his dream of buying a plumbing business. Of course, Joe the Plumber turned out not to be an actual plumber, and his real name turned out to be Samuel Wurzelbacher, but let's not split hairs, eh?

Don't tell me bald isn't sexy!

Since that immortal moment on the campaign trail when Joe stood up for all those pin-headed Republican throwbacks by confronting Obama and his "socialism," Joe has been a ubiquitous presence for all of us. He's written a book. He's gone to Gaza to report on the conflict there. He is said to be negotiating a record deal with a major label. There is even an effort to draft him to run as the Republican candidate for Ohio's 9th Congressional district. In fact, the public demand for Joe, Joe, and more Joe has become so taxing (if not to him, certainly to all the rest of us) that Joe has been compelled to hire a publicity management firm.

Well, I happen to know that Joe is a single dad. Presuming that he is heterosexual (he does have a son) and that he is a stand-up guy that wants to do right by his conservative, salt-of-the-earth ethos, have I got a gal for him...

Hey, Joe, meet Octomom!

Octomom (her real name is Nadya Suleman) is the mother of 14 children who recently made headlines when she was artificially inseminated and subsequently gave birth to a set of octuplets. The eight new little bundles of joy will join their six siblings and their unmarried, unemployed mother as participants in California's various public assistance programs.

Tawdry, yes... but also dishy!

Octomom is not a bad looking woman, after all. And she and Joe seem to have a lot in common. Octomom has also been making use of her new-found celebrity. She's considering a million dollar payday to participate in a porn film. (Contract negotiations are stalled... no doubt Octomom is insisting on artistic control...) And although her recent publicist quit, complaining that she was "nuts," I'm sure there are other publicists that will be glad to jump in and fill the gap.

I mean, really... Doesn't this seem like a match made in heaven? Joe, like a true-blue "values" conservative could step up and provide a role model for all those fatherless kids and hook up with a California hottie, herself a publicity hound, who looks vaguely like Angelina Jolie.

Frankly, I'm surprised some cable television whiz kid hasn't already pitched the idea to VH-1! Talk about public service! We need endure only one season of a reality television show where Joe would court the object of his affections, Octomom coyly pretending to keep her distance, culminating in a Vegas style wedding extravaganza. Kid Rock could do a rockin' version of the wedding march! And, to top it all off, we could finally be rid of both of them.

Come on, people. What say we all do what we can to get these two great kids together?

Movie review: Watchmen

You've got to hand it to director Zack Snyder: it takes chutzpah to try to translate a cherished literary work like Alan Moore's Watchmen to the celluloid. Hollywood's archives are chock full of failed and forgettable efforts. (Mike Newell's Love in the Time of Cholera comes to mind). But, then again, judging from the --er --machismo on display in Snyder's preceding effort, the ultra-masculine (and blatantly homoerotic) 300, perhaps one should not be surprised that he made the attempt.

As an enthusiastic fan of the ground-breaking graphic novel, first published as a series for DC Comics in 1986-87, I tried to maintain a healthy skepticism as the cinematic release loomed. After all, I need look back only a few short years to remember the empty disappointment that descended upon me after watching the bastardization of JRR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings by ham-handed Peter Jackson. But, by the time my friends and I were waiting outside the cinema and I'd had a good look at all the promotional posters, the cardboard stand-ups of the main characters ("A world at peace... there had to be a sacrifice" explains Ozymandias), by the time I had heard rumor of befuddled reviews wherein the critics could not fit the film into any convenient category (action flick? murder mystery?) I could no longer subdue my excitement. I found that I was daring to believe that Snyder would succeed.

The story is set in a world that is on the brink of thermonuclear war. The Soviet Union and the United States are locked in a deadly Cold War dance where the slightest miscalculation will result in humanity's extinction. At the center of it all is a being that was created by an accident in a federal nuclear research facility, Dr. Manhattan, formerly known as Jon Osterman (played by Billy Crudup). Dr. Manhattan's abilities (he can instantaneously transform matter, he perceives time non-linearly) are such that so long as he is in the equation belligerents in the Soviet Union dare not challenge the United States. The problem is that since his transformation into a super-being, Dr. Manhattan is becoming less and less human and more and more a detached, impartial observer of the Universe, indifferent to humanity's fate.

Meanwhile, an American operative, Edward Blake (played by Jeffrey Dean Morgan) or "The Comedian" as he is sometimes called, is murdered by an unknown assailant in New York City. The murder attracts the attention of Rorschach (superbly played by Jackie Earle Haley), a vigilante assassin of the city's dark underground. Rorshach suspects that there is more to the murder than simple burglary, that there is a conspiracy to perhaps eliminate "masks" (costumed heroes). He undertakes to warn all his former masked crime-fighting associates of their peril.

As Rorshach's investigation progresses, he and his friend and partner Dan Dreiberg, the Night Owl (Patrick Wilson), discover a plot with earth-shaking implications. Along the way, Dr. Manhattan's concubine, Laurie Jupiter, the Silk Spectre (Malin Akerman) is increasingly frightened by Dr. Manhattan's detachment and turns to Dreiberg for comfort. And the "World's Smartest Man," Adrian Veidt, also known as Ozymandias (Matthew Goode), continues his own efforts to save humanity by bringing about a progressive evolution of society.

Although the action sequences in the film are quite good, and the visual rendering, the sets, costumes, muted light and extended shadow convey the darkness that has come to define so-called "comic book movies," it is a mistake to view Watchmen expecting another action-hero movie along the lines of the Spiderman series, or even Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight. Those expecting such will probably be disappointed. Watchmen is really a study of contrasting world views. And, as such, the story progresses mostly through dialog and character development.

The acting is good all around, especially Morgan's Comedian, and Haley's Rorshach. But also, the minor parts, the actors who portrayed current media pundits like Pat Buchanan, Eleanor Clift, John McLaughlin, Ted Koppel were excellent.

As with all high art, Watchmen poses questions, but offers no definitive answers. Does evil truly exist? How is it defined? Is humanity inherently endowed with some perverted characteristic that will cause it to destroy itself?

In recent interviews, Alan Moore has already panned the movie, saying famously that he will be "spitting venom all over it for months to come." Well, Watchmen is his concept, arguably his masterwork, so one is obliged to respect his opinion on the matter. On the other hand, is there not a point at which an artist's work is no longer his alone? Do not those of us who have come to love the graphic novel (and by all accounts that includes Snyder) now share in its ownership? After all, it is we who interpret the work, appreciate it, revere it and therefore, make it worthy of recognition.

So, yes, I admire Alan Moore, and I'm grateful to him for his creation. And if I felt that Snyder's effort had even the least taint of simplification for convenience's sake, or some cheesy chicanery to broaden its appeal to the mindless teenage movie-goer set, I would join in Moore's scorn. (I doubt I will ever fully forgive Peter Jackson for what he did to Tolkien.) But Watchmen, the film, is as true to the novel upon which it is based as the cinematic medium will allow. Yes, there are some significant changes to the plot. Yes, Snyder has omitted some of the subplots and story lines that make Moore's novel a wonder of complexity and reflection. But the essentials of the story, which is largely an examination of the world views of its principle characters, are there; they are true; and like the story's narrator, Rorshach, the sociopath vigilante, they are not compromised.

So, for me, Watchmen can take its place alongside such timeless classics as Dr. Zhivago, Apocalypse Now, and the Godfather as a film that has successfully achieved the translation from book to movie.

I highly recommend this film.

Bergen (Pt. III)

Note to readers: This is the third part of a recounting of my Grand European Tour, taken in the fall of 1999. You can read Part II here.

Bergen

Our train rolled in to Bergen in the fading light of day. We caught the bus from the railway station to the foot of a steep hill. At the top, somewhere up in that gray drizzle, our destination: a youth hostel.  Exhausted. Nothing for it other than to shoulder our heavy packs and start the climb.

Nelson (youthful idealist) tucked the map into the shoulder strap of his pack. I toted my guitar; the case held together by bungee cords purchased way back in Amsterdam.  I was haunted by dismal images of my six-stringed friend and companion tumbling out, meeting an untimely demise on cold Norwegian pavement.

After a long climb to the top of the hill we arrived at the hostel and checked in. "Sorry, gentlemen, the bellboy is off tonight,"  said the innkeeper, with a wink. I managed a tired smile in response. Hauled pack and guitar to a cold but clean room; collapsed onto bunk. Out like a light.

***

The next day we met Jorge (smooth, image-conscious), from Florida. Jorge seemed always to behave as if he were on television.  Jorge had been roaming around on the Eurail network all alone, looking for someone with whom he could share it all:  all the wonders, all the experiences of travel. When Nelson and I set out to explore Bergen that morning, Jorge came with us.

Author, Jorge, and Nelson on the steps of the Bergen library

These Norwegians are fishermen! So we set off to see the fish market, in the cold and wet (just like Oregon) open air. I had never seen so many fish for sale. When they saw us, the good-hearted merchants offered us samples to taste. Herring, cod, salmon. "Try this," said the smiling merchant. Nelson and I tasted. "Very good," I said. "What is it?"

"Whale," said the merchant. Positively Machiavellian, that grin. Nelson and I looked at each other. "Whale," I repeated. Ah, well . . .when in Rome. . .

Bergen fish market

The buildings along the waterfront were as brightly-hued as madness. We wandered around, unable to shake the oppression of that leaden North Atlantic sky.  Ecuadorians were playing folk music in the public square.  "There is no money or work for them at home," said Nelson. He could not see the joy in the music; the burden of his wisdom caused him to look beyond the woolen sarapes, sikus and the ocarinas to the poverty and injustice that spawned it all. (He was from Brazil, yes?)

Bergen waterfront

We found the funicular that took tourists to the top of the spiny ridge that overlooked Norway's second city, and stood and looked out over the harbor. The man behind the counter in the kiosk told us about trolls that were said to have lived there in the long ago. Then Jorge, Nelson, and I hiked down the ridge along a trail back to town.

Somewhere along the way, we found an old Viking church, went inside, and had a look around. I left without my hat. Hopefully, it found its way onto some Norwegian pate on some rainy North Atlantic day.

To be continued...

• Pt. I Amsterdam - Arnhem - Copenhagen
• Pt. II Copenhagen - Oslo
• Pt. III Bergen
• Pt. IV Flam fjord - Goteborg
• Pt. V Stockholm - Gavle - Stockholm
• Pt. VI Berlin
• Pt. VII Prague
• Pt. VIII Budapest
• Pt. IX Vienna
• Pt. X Munich
• Pt. XI Salzberg - Innsbruck
• Pt. XII Venice - Florence
• Pt. XIII Siena
• Pt. XIV Rome
• Pt. XV Naples - Pompeii
• Pt. XVI Cinque Terre - Geneva
• Pt. XVII Avignon
• Pt. XVIII Arles
• Pt. XIX Barcelona
• Pt. XX San Sebastian
• Pt. XXI Bordeaux - St. Lo
• Pt. XXII Paris
• Pt. XXIII Brussels - Waterloo
• Pt. XXIV Brugge
• Pt. XXV Amsterdam at last

Gertrude, I remember

'Neath the sparkle on the water were the shades of stones a-tumbling;
You could glimpse their soft disaster in the space beyond your vision;
And although you tried to tame it, all your eulogies were bumbling;
And you feared the ancient willow, who might greet grief with derision;
But the chatter of the river soon dispelled youth's gentle humbling;
And the stones endowed your being with the rumor of their passing

And the river kept on flowing;

But you swear you'll take it with you;
'Til your Judgment Day is nigh;
That is when you'll heed the praises
Of the people who will love you as you die;

On the rocky shores of Corinth, strode the captain of the Argo;
And he climbed the cliffs to greatness without taxing much his powers;
Though his arms were round and rippled, you'd have sworn he had no ego,
As his blush dispelled suspicion in King Creon's mighty towers;
But even had they known him, they would not deny his credo:
A chanting so familiar that Achaeans joined the chorus

Though they knew the story's ending;

But they swore they'd take it with them
'Til their Judgment Day was nigh;
That was when they'd heed the praises
Of the people who would love them as they died;

But Gertrude came to Salem; it was there she raised her fam'ly,
From her humble start in China where she learned much of compassion;
She would kiss her grandson's fingers when he feared the piercing darkness,
And through sober, soft reflection she would puzzle out the answers;
And the wind sang in the fir trees, like a gentle sighing ocean;
And in springtime came the blossoms as she passed beyond the orchard

Leaving those of us who loved her;

But I swear I'll take her with me;
'Til my Judgment Day is nigh;
That is when I'll heed the praises
Of the people who might love me as I die;

Thanks and apologies to the great Leonard Cohen for the inspiration.

Supporting Obama: Points of clarification

A quick post to clarify some points I made in earlier posts regarding the Obama administration's agenda and my inclination to support him.

National debt

In response to my post Obama wins or we all lose, blogging friend, Eclectic Dilettante commented:

Obama has spent about 4.8 trillion since inauguration. Leaving all politics aside, I ask one very simple question. How is the solution to too much debt, more debt?

To which, I answer: I don't think the administration's agenda is geared toward addressing the debt.

Not a pretty picture...

Yes, there is too much debt: $11 trillion so far. An unimaginably huge number. Most of it, of course, was run up by the Bush administration, but that's beside the point. I think the Obama administration has made the determination that the most immediate priority is creating jobs and rescuing the nation's financial and banking systems. Obama believes that, to accomplish that, we must incur more debt.

As I've stated before, I don't understand enough about economics or finance to know whether or not the Obama plan for the economy will work. I suspect that even the so-called "experts" don't know for sure. But President Obama is the duly elected chief executive for this country; so, he makes the decisions, ostensibly with the backing of the electorate. Let's hope for the best.

"Redistribution of wealth"

A common theme that runs throughout conservative whining about the Obama agenda is that the President is moving the country toward "socialism." Conservatives object to anything that they believe is a transfer of wealth from the top of the economic ladder to the bottom.

The ol' Robin Hood routine

There are a couple points to clarify here:

1. The health care plan proposed by the administration is to be funded by revenues that will come as a result of the expiration of the Bush tax cuts of 2001. Those tax cuts were, in themselves a transfer of wealth in the opposite direction. In light of the huge government bailouts that have been extended to the very beneficiaries of those tax cuts, made necessary because of their incompetence and malfeasance, the original objective of the tax cuts, to provide incentive for "successful entrepreneurs," sounds like a bad joke.
   
2. The gap in wealth between rich and poor in this nation has never been greater than it is today. By attempting to address this financial chasm, the Obama administration has a chance to avert a catastrophe of very large proportions. Again, I refer readers to the myriad historical events that have been spawned by large gaps in wealth.
   
3. Republicans complain that the reduction in income tax rates for people who make less than $250,000 per year gives money to people who "don't pay taxes." While it is true that some of the tax cut beneficiaries might not pay income taxes, like everyone else, they pay other taxes (telephone taxes, gas taxes, etcetera) that are inherent in the purchases we make every day. In fact, due to the sheer numbers of people involved, members of the working and middle classes pay far more of these "usage" taxes than do the wealthy. The Obama plan is much more equitable.
   

The dangers of "Dear Leader"

There has been some complaint among the right-wing that President Obama is being put forth as a "Dear Leader" figure. That is, he is adored and idolized by those who support him.

Is there any better example of the dangers of a cult of personality?

In this, I'll admit to some concerns of my own. (Never mind that the right-wingers who complain about Obama's deification are the very same people who wet themselves whenever Junior showed his monkey face on the teevee.)

President Obama is charismatic, eloquent, and intelligent. He's a compelling figure. And, for a left-wing freak like me, his domestic policies are like manna from heaven. But there is a (potentially grave) danger in following anyone too closely.

I can say this: President Obama has already made some decisions around foreign policy and the rights of detainees with which I do not agree. At this point, though, I'm still on board.

In any case, conservatives, Republicans, plutocrats... they have already proven themselves to be hypocrites, bigots, and incompetents. It is completely valid and important to keep an eye on the Obama administration, and to object to policies that one believes to be misguided or wrong. But mindless, shrill bleating like that offered up by right-wingers only clouds up the dialog and drives people to support the President.

When President Obama is attacked by people for whom I have contempt, my first instinct is to rally to his defense. But it is important not to do so reflexively.

It's a delicate balancing act, to be sure.

Green card drama: Love vs. bureaucracy

911 Federal Building, Portland

This morning, Maty and I were compelled to endure the indignity of proving the legitimacy of our relationship in the cold and imperious eyes of the federal bureaucracy of the United States. We faced and overcame yet another hurdle in the long, impersonal and dehumanizing rigmarole of attaining Maty's 10 year green card. There will be more to come.

The way it works is this: the green card applicant (Maty) and spouse (your humble author) are summoned to the Federal building at an appointed time which is neither subject to negotiation nor scheduled with any consideration for the convenience of the subjects. Green card applicants are instructed (in bold type) to be prompt and punctual.

Because, although federal immigration officers apparently need not adhere to the same degree of punctuality, if you are not present in the large nondescript waiting room with the rows of tortuously uncomfortable plastic chairs when the unsmiling federal employee enters and monotonously mispronounces your name, you miss your chance and must reschedule for another appointment some months in the future.

Applicants are taken to another room and there subjected to a series of prying, vaguely offensive questions administered by stone-faced bureaucrats who divine from the given answers if the relationship between applicant and spouse is "real."

The entire process is a passion play, a clash between unfeeling, robotic process and form on the one hand, and actual human emotions (hope, love, fear, despair) on the other. Think of E. M. Forster's "The Machine Stops" or George Orwell's "1984."

When first we were married, back in January 2006, we began this process. We engaged an immigration lawyer to help us negotiate the mind-numbing bureaucracy in order to acquire Maty's temporary green card. This was the green card that is issued to spouses of American citizens upon proof of marriage and that are valid for a period of 2 years.

Our lawyer helped us considerably in expediting the process, intervening on our behalf when our federal interrogator became a little too obstinate. Unfortunately, our attorney doesn't work cheap. Having him do a little prep work and sit with us during the interview cost us around $1200! So when the time came for Maty's green card renewal, we decided to go it alone.

In the spring of 2008, we were informed by mail that Maty's green card would expire in July and that, in order to renew it and extend it for 10 years, we must complete myriad federal forms and submit them along with a check for ~$600 and documentation or photographs that provided evidence of the validity of our marriage. We did so. And, naively believing that our ordeal was over, we awaited the arrival of Maty's renewed green card in the mail.

But, no.

In early July we received notice that Maty's green card had been extended for a mere 6 months, pending further investigation by the US Immigration and Naturalization Service. We were informed that the documentation and photos, the "proof" of our marriage, were insufficient. We were summoned to another interrogation in March. (Specifically, March 3... today.)

I was surprised. I know other American citizens who have married foreign nationals and they had never been called in for a second interview. But then, when I thought about it, those other persons had spouses from Germany or New Zealand or Ireland. I, on the other hand, have a Muslim wife from sub-Saharan Africa. Racial or religious profiling? Or mere coincidence? I'll leave that to you to decide, dear reader.

Well, Maty and I arranged to take time off from work today, since the time of our appointment was for 9am. We arrived ahead of schedule and sat in the aforementioned waiting room with about a dozen other miserable souls and awaited our summons.

By the book

Eventually, we were called forward by an unsmiling female who referred to herself as "Officer Peters." She took us back to a drab and dreary office, pulled a file containing the materials we had previously submitted from a drawer, and began asking us questions that were fairly personal and strangely at odds with the sterile white walls and indistinct desk.

Had we made any purchases together? Yes. We bought some major appliances for the kitchen and the laundry room.

Had we done any traveling together? Yes. We went to Burkina Faso together so I could meet my in-laws.

Is Maty involved with the family? Yes. Maty has been to all our family functions throughout Oregon, Washington, and Nevada for the last three years.

And so it went, for about 45 minutes. Officer Peters, no doubt the beneficiary of the very best federal training, remained imperious and cold, despite my attempts at penetrating her stifling professionalism. I noticed some children's coloring taped to a wall and asked if she had kids. "A lot of children come here," she said, stonily. "I have the coloring books here to keep them occupied." I asked her name. "Officer Peters," she repeated.

Admittedly, I was testing, seeing if I could find a crack in the wall. There was none.

Eventually, Officer Peters dismissed Maty from the room so that she could talk to me alone. When Maty had gone, she said "At the US Immigration and Naturalization Service, our main concern in cases like this is for the American citizen. We worry sometimes that citizens are being taken advantage of. There have been people who have been taken for a ride."

"In the beginning, I considered that possibility," I replied. "But I know Maty, now. She's sincere. What we have is real."

Officer Peters gave no indication as to what she thought about it. Her eyes fell to the desktop. She pursed her lips. I waited.  A moment or two passed.

Finally, she spoke again, as if no time had elapsed at all. "I'll give you a temporary card today. Tell your wife that she'll receive her permanent residence card in the mail within 6 months."

Holy Grail

Maty and I went out for lunch to celebrate.

Obama wins or we all lose

You've got to give it to him: President Obama knows where he wants to take this nation and he's going for it. If he succeeds, the sweeping changes proposed and implied in his budget will forever alter these United States.

With his three bold initiatives in education, energy policy, and health care, he is pushing this country in a direction wherein there is more of a sense of social responsibility, more awareness of and commitment to the common good. Universal health care, access to higher education, alternative fuels. A restructuring of our tax system such that the affluent contribute more. These are not new concepts. Much of western Europe and Canada are well ahead of the United States in these regards.

But there are very, very powerful entities and individuals for whom this idea of shared responsibility toward one's fellow citizens is anathema. Any infringements on their ability to constantly acquire more wealth and power is to them what holy water is to vampires.

They will fight. But President Obama says he's ready for that fight. "I know these steps won't sit well with the special interests and lobbyists who are invested in the old way of doing business, and I know they're gearing up for a fight," he said. "My message to them is this: So am I."

For my part, being a fierce and unapologetic liberal, I'm all for it. But the vastness of the transition literally makes me feel short of breath. And it makes me fear for the President. I tremble at the very thought, but already one can imagine a conspiracy, hatched in the darkest, most vile dens of the plutocracy. Some elaborate scheme, some satanic plot that culminates in a day similar to that infamous morning of April 4, 1968 or of that early afternoon in Dallas on November 22, 1963. Some obscene crime that leaves us all distraught and fearful and confused while some racist clown gets fingered. "He was a deranged maniac who acted alone. No. No need for an investigation."

Let's put aside such nightmarish thoughts. Let's put faith in the Great Whatever and the Secret Service.

I'll tell you this, though: our country is in such dire straits, and civilization itself is at such a momentous crossroads that all of us, liberals, conservatives, moderates, gays, straights, Christians, Jews, Muslims, everyone... we all better hope that President Obama succeeds. I'm not saying this as a liberal; I'm saying this as a man who is staring at the future and scared to death.

So, while you may not have been disposed to admire Obama's political inclinations, he is what you're left with, and we're all in this crisis together. I hope I'm being honest with myself when I say that, if John McCain had been elected last November, I would reluctantly have lined up behind him during this momentous time. Regardless of which party is currently running the show, we are in desperate need of unity and common purpose. The Republicans are certainly not solely responsible for this mess we're in, but they had the misfortune of being in charge when the house of cards finally fell down and so they're on the outs.

To repeat: regardless of his political bent, President Obama is now presiding over a nation that is teetering on collapse. Don't believe me? Read the damn headlines! Financial calamity, chaos on our southern border, widespread unemployment, ecological disaster. Conservative or liberal, if you can't see that we've all got to pull together, there is no hope for you... or for any of us.