Behold my Bracket

Entirely for use with my post on WeLoveDC 

On Politico's "Female pols in 2010" article

This morning, in the elevator on the way up to the office, still in a post-oscars sleep deprivation stupor, I glanced at the front page of the office subscription of Politico. 

"Female Candidates Line up for 2010" reads the head of the story which goes on to state, "A slew of formidable female candidates, mostly Democrats, are lining up to run for the Senate in 2010, enough to raise the prospect of a surge of women into a chamber that currently has just 17 women senators." WOW, a SLEW! A great SURGE! I grew excited enough to continue reading despite my bleary-eyed Monday stupor. 

How many, exactly, is "a slew"? If you stand by the oxford english dictionary definition, you would expect it to be "a very large number, a great amount." Sweet! So, like, at least 30 women in 2010 races. I mean, come on, there are like 500 reps in Congress (453 in the House and 100 in the Senate, to be precise. Plus non-voting reps). Reading about this amazing slew of female candidates stepping into the spotlight, I lapsed into a pre-caffeinated dream of a country where representation reflected the population. 

Turns out, this prediction of a "landmark year" for women candidates has been triggered by the presumed intentions of 12 women. TWELVE.  That, Josh Kraushaar, is a "slew" I can believe in. 

The tremendous in-depth reporting about women in Congress by the journalistic masterminds at Politico continues from there. (Side note, my roommate and I are convinced that the 30 Rock joke where Alec Baldwin goes "Thanks for telling me what I already know. You should work for The Huffington Post" should sub in Politico.)

Maybe I should check the sarcasm here. But, let's think about this. Currently there are 91 female members of congress. That constitutes a whopping 17%, up from 16% last Congress. We picked up 2 new female senators and 10 new female reps for the 111th. If all 12 of these proported candidates run and win, and all the female incumbents up for reelection retain their seats, that will constitute 103 congresswomen, 19%, less than one-fifth. Less than one in five. 

Of course I'm happy that our country is inching closer to demographic representation in terms of gender (let's not get into how many black men and women, latino men and women, gay men and women, single and unmarried men and women are reps). However, I'm not convinced that a percent a year constitutes impressive progress on this front. At this rate, maybe by the tricentennial 50% of our elected officials will be women. 

If the statistics alone were what irked me, I probably wouldn't be writing. It was more the after-the-jump business that got to me. Politico interviewed Karen O’Connor, director of the Women and Politics Institute at American University (no relation), for the piece. Now, Karen O'Connor sounds baller, generally speaking. For better or worse, however, she delves into answering the "why" regarding the recent rise of these candidates. She points out that "female candidates have a better track record in elections where economic issues are at the forefront, which makes the current political environment especially alluring." Also: "In the post-Sept. 11 climate...women were vulnerable to perceptions that they weren’t as tough on dealing with terrorist threats." 

These observations, while evident, are heartily disappointing. One can't help but feeling, well, so these extremely qualified and ambitious women are pushing through, largely because the economy and Main Street are in the shitter and women are Queens of their domain, the home. It's like playing with a handicap -- does victory feel as legitimate when you're getting a bit of a head start?

Maybe I'm wrong and the path opening up for a handful more women is an incredible thing we should all be psyched about. It's politics, which everyone knows is 90% manuevering and misdirection and capitalizing on an open door. Maybe we should be thrilled  and grateful to the American people and the machinists of the political machine that now there is, as O'Connor described, a "farm team" of female pols. 

Maybe. 

I can't get one thing out of my head. It's the title of a book by, Rep. Carolyn Maloney (D-NY),also mentioned in this article, entitled "Rumors of our Progress Have been Greatly Exaggerated." 

Monday Morning Work Haiku

Because they all won't fit in my G-chat status box...

monday work haiku: 

too tired, brain not functioning;

why aren't I in bed? 

   

beige, tan, off-white, white

these colors together make

an office rainbow

-c.q.

if print is so dead
why must i still go to work?
ugh i hate the web

-m.f.

Boss not in office

But so much work still to do

There is no escape

-s.t.

Post-Inaugural Recap for Family, Friends, and any others who for some reason read this blog

(because I'm too lazy to do both a post and write an epic e-mail)

FROM: Acacia O'Connor

Date: Jan. 22, 2009

SUBJECT: "THE LARGEST EVENT EVER IN THE WORLD"

...or so said an FBI agent. I'll let you debate the verity of that claim, and the broadness of the definition of "event". World War II, anyone?? The Police reunion tour??

This is a dispatch from Washington DC, now that the party is finally over. Let's start from the beginning. 

The city began prepping for Jan. 20 as though it was bracing for a tsunami. Which, in fact, seeing people walk through the streets and on 395 on Tuesday, did seem more accurate than one might have first thought. (Digression: you know you're a tourist when: you walk towards Anacostia on 395 south) Don't drive anywhere. Don't take the metro anywhere . Buy bread and milk now, there won't be anything later. You won't have a ticket , it will suck and be freezing. Don't plan on using your cellphones . Don't make any quick movements with your hands - you will be sniped.... et cetera.

In the end, we had a house of 7 - Vassar friends Aapta and Alithea came down for the weekend from New York, Alex Sheff, who recently moved back here from Uganda, stayed with us, and Hobie, who was technically at a conference for the Global Young Leaders Program, spent most of his time with us, as the conference was overbooked 5-fold and full of overachieving egomaniacal toolbags, essentially. (Global young leaders like to talk about themselves? Who would have thought...) 

Friday and Saturday were essentially excitement build-up days, and influx of unwitting tourist days. Sunday the real party began, with the We Are One HBO-ified super concert at the lincoln memorial. After donning a variety of spandex and fleece layers, we had a pre-concert breakfast as a group, including all the essential body-warming vitamins and minerals (mimosas have vitamin C, not so sure about the whiskey..) We had a sweet little spot between the Washington Monument (which we affectionately refer to as the phallus) and the WWII memorial, meaning that we could see the show on 2 huge jumbotrons directly in front of us, and could claim to "see" the concert. Bruce Springsteen is an especially formidably tiny dot, let me tell you.  As we had roughly 2 hours to wait before the show started, we entertained ourselves by singing all of the verses of American Pie and hoisting Alithea onto our shoulders - all things that the people around us duly appreciated, let me tell you.  They can talk all they want about the spirit of love and unity this weekend, but my impression is still that crushing crowds brings out the worst- not the best - in human nature. 

My favorite moment of the concert had to be when they brought out the great symbol of America - a bald eagle named Challenger. Challenger tried to break free of its chains to the sound of "oooh" from the audience. They appeased it by bringing out a second eagle, Challenger's friend - i wish i were making this up - Mr. Lincoln.  The music was pretty sweet too. We felt quite validated when a truncated version American Pie was sung and the people around us turned to see our reactions. 

Tuesday was, as expected, in many ways a giant clusterfuck (pardon the phrase). We were out of the house and on our way to the Mall by 8:10, by which time others had already been on the mall for a couple of hours. In trying to find the entry points, we passed by several lines of people who literally had no idea what they were doing. We also were pushed aside to make way for Samuel L. Jackson to walk through the crowd -- baller! Sam, Alex Sheff and I had silver tickets, which meant we were in a gated-standing-room-only area that I've indicated on the satellite map image. We were smack dab in front of a jumbotron and in full view of the capitol. I could see the red outline of the door from which the cool kids were entering the stage. The weight of being in the mass of Americans waving their little obama american flags and chanting o-bam-a (something that, somehow makes me feel strangely uneasy) did a passable job cancelling out the frigid cold. The exodus was a bottleneck, squeezing us next to the Native American Museum. In an act of poetic in-justice, impatient inauguration-goers broke through the chain link fence and trampled through the Native american wildlife sanctuary that flanks the museum. Oh dear. 

I went to 2 inaugural balls - the first being Tuesday night: the Bytes and Books ball for Education and Technology in the Folger Shakespeare Library. Essentially, a gathering of fancy people whose age rivalled that of the copies of Henry IV on the shelves of the library reading room. Ball gowns and real diamonds and a serenade by a perceptably drunk American Idol Reject in a sparkly suit. We (Heather and I) felt like posers, faking being important, fancy and schmoozy. George Lucas had come and gone by the time I got there. There were rumors Chris Noth would show up, but after about 3 hours of wandering around in unfortunate footwear, I decided it would be more worthwhile to go watch some Law & Order CI instead.

I felt much more at home at last night's unexpected ball - the Obama for America staffer Ball at the old Armory. The girls in line were wearing cocktail dresses and headbands from Claires, holding heels in their hand while they walked in Target flats. Let me just say that I can die happy now: I was in a crowd of some 1000-2000 people who saw Joe Biden and Barack Speak and jammed out to Jay-Z. JAY-Z! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE JAY-Z?! Some of you do. Barack's speech was funny, understated and appreciative of all the kids my age who pulled more than their weight to get out voters and win counties.  I felt cynicism dissipate: maybe the hope would carry on. 

It was truly something special to be a part of - something I wish you all could have been here to share, but really you just missed a lot of watching TV outside and open bars. 

America is ours again! Huzzah! 

Now if you don't mind me, I need to take a nap for about 4 days. 

all my love,

Acacia

From the Typewriter to the Bookstore: A Publishing Story

Oh MacMillan Digital, ya'll are funny.

On the NYTimes front page ads

This week marked the debut of front page display ads on the New York Times A1. CBS was the first to pony up for the ads, which reportedly run at around 100,000 a pop and are supposedly going to help rescue the Times in these bad *ahem* times. I get it, Times, you need the dolla bills - print is dying (Just ask the Atlantic, psht.) I can't blame you. 

I can, however, blame CBS. The ad which ran yesterday, a prime-time show pimping disguised (very poorly) as faux-world summit announcement, was painful. One would think that if you're going to shell out a hundred grand for advertising on the New York Times, even if it is below the fold, you would put a little more crafting into it. 

Mainly it's a font issue, which I realize lumps me into a small niche group of individuals who have inexplicable rage caused by poor font placement. In this case, a slightly italicized block sans-serif. Underlined. Excuse me, I feel queasy.  It looks like an ad I would have hated to have in my section of the Vassar college paper because of its awkwardness and ugliness. Though the block of ugly does, probably, achieve its advertising goal of grabbing my attention, CBS is now even further away from convincing me to watch "World Comedy Leader" How I met Your Mother (as if that were possible). 

Greatest (some may say Nerdiest) thing I've seen today

If I came away from my survey of British and American Literature course at Vassar (R.I.P. ENGL 220-221) it was a healthy fascination/slight love for Samuel Johnson's Dictionary. Not altogether surprising, considering one of the lecturers was Bob DeMaria, who loves Johnson more than Johnson loved his cats (coincidentally, it's unclear who loves their cats more, Sam Johnson or Paul Kane...). 

As strange, erudite and seemingly grumpy - I mean, have you seen this guy? - Johnson was, his dictionary is awesome. I have an 1833 edition - it was a gift. It's like the OED, but tangible, older, somehow more.. crafted. Imagine deciding to catalogue the words of the English language and selecting the best literary uses for said words. And spending 9 years of your life to do it. That's dedication, Sammypants.

Second-best to the real thing, is what I discovered today: the dictionary, in blog form.  Brilliant. Instant addition to google reader.

Santa Bush

Via Pat (gotta love office e-mail fwds from your former congresswoman boss.)

Dear Vassar Grads in Brooklyn

Let's all laugh about this. 

A Message from the Brooklyn Tourism Board from jeff on Vimeo.

For a little contrast - listen to Hova. 

Arianna Huffington's Philosophy of Blogging

"You lost your job-- you have time to blog!" 

Arianna Huffington, of Huffington Post fame (Alex: "I want to make a newspaper and name it after myself") was a guest on the Daily Show Wednesday night, pimping the new book - The Huffington Post Complete Guide to Blogging. The conversation definitely pitted the self-proclaimed "blogging evangelist" against the traditional, pro-good writing Jon Stewart (presuming he wasn't just playing devil's advocate, also possible.) 

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Arianna Huffington

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

"Why would I give people the dreck?... My other thoughts -there's a reason I haven't put them on the show."

I said to Alex, I'm a hypocrite since I have this blog, but I totally agree. I don't exactly know what is gained by creating entirely democratic public discourse where every single person in the world has a blog that three of their closest friends read (or no one reads).  What Huffington describes sounded more to me like a call to keep a freaking diary than anything else, especially in her description of it as "catharsis." Indeed, the fact that people need to seek community in the anonymous and remote makes me feel sad inside. 

Coming back to the hypocrisy, however - I've felt more and more guilty about the blathering, self-indulgent nature of the blogosphere and my own part in it. This is partly why I have posted less frequently. What am I saying that 10 more qualified and well-spoken writers, and probably thousands of unqualified but equally vociferous bloggers are not? 

Huffington believes blogging is a first draft of history. I don't disagree, considering the influence of HuffPo and the birth of so many "blog" arms of big-name news outlets. I can't help but worry that those in the internet world are so busy blogging and tweeting that no one is carving out refined and deeply critical thoughts. 

All the Women Who Have Cooked Before

During our pre-Thanksgiving dinner prep, I had a flashback to an unnamed angry woman of the past, yelling at her partner or children about how she had "slaved over a hot stove" all day for them. To be clear - I didn't feel I was slaving at all, which was precisely the point. My appreciation for cooking has a direct relationship with the amount I cook, and these days each are tangibly ascending. For better or worse, the fact that cooking was stereotypically "woman's work" is never far from my mind, however.

At some unknowable point in the past, I - and many young, education women like me and around me - decided that victorian 1950s-era notions of "traditional" femininity were not for us. We would not be the chained to the kitchen ball-and-chain, a passive No. 2 in the relationship and family hierarchy, a glorified maid with a Mrs. to denote our status. These narrow female roles had perhaps already lapsed enough by our mothers' generation to make them seem implausible in their extreme forms; society had evolved at least a bit beyond the laughable "women's brains are half the size of men's" concept of a woman's role. 

But still, a New York Times article from 1988 entitled "Women: Out of the House But Not Out of the Kitchen"  sheds light on one remnant of the past many young women today grew up with -- seeing Mom in the kitchen and tagging along with her to the grocery store. According to the Times 90 percent of married women surveyed for the piece did all the shopping and cooking in their households.  A marketing consultant quoted in the story said that cooking ''is still considered a woman's role, and women are accepting it more.'' 

"Hell no! Not me!" most independent, strong women in their twenties or thirties would say, and I'd be among them. However, recently I have been reflecting on my own time in the kitchen and relationship with cooking. 

In our apartment, the three of us cook together pretty much all the time. Two of us are women, all of us are from Vassar, and as such, even the odd man out has an overcharged sensibility for the heteronormative. We are hypersensitive to gender roles--seriously, but also with a sense of humor and often deserved self-derision. When Sam took the lead on ordering the Turkey, I asked him if he was going to be in charge of it. "Only if we're going to go by prescribed gender roles," he replied with characteristic dry sarcasm. When for a moment all the women at the party were chopping and sauteeing in the kitchen while the men flipped from "Mythbusters" to football, we called out "Well isn't this typical?" and "My heteronormative alarm is going off." 

It wouldn't be funny at all, except for the fact that it is not at all typical for us anymore - or if it were typical, it would not be considered in any way acceptable. We wouldn't be able to brush it off by saying "I did it because that was what my generation did," like a housewife in the Times story, now 20-years ago. 

Of course, we're talking about a setting now where all of us are single, close, friends. I'm not entirely sure what married couples my age and older are experiencing in terms of the division of household duties and kitchen responsibilities, but I'm hoping it's something Betty Friedan wouldn't recognize. My gut reaction to the question "Will I be the one doing all the cooking?" is "Absolutely not." But... 

There's a but. But I love to cook. Nothing is more satisfying than making a meal to share with loved ones, or trying something new with interesting ingredients to great success. While sometimes I'm happy to make a sandwich, most times cooking provides a mindless respite from the data, reading, and rapid-fire communication obligations of the work day. It's sensory in a way that the work day seldom is: touch, see, smell, taste.

Then again, cooking is, in my experience so far, best done when 1. you're doing it with another person to help or talk to and 2. you aren't being forced to the stove by obligation. The latter circumstantial advisory keys into the beauty of changing roles: freedom to choose. 

We battle daily with a feeling of wariness about tradition and dated concepts of feminity. Tasks such as cooking, cleaning and organization are always tinged by the "woman's work" concept for me, and if I'm doing them and someone else is not, it is cause for introspection. The same thing is true of other stereotypically "female" things that we have long sought to shrug off and forever evade. The fear of being considered emotional or hysterical pre-feminist females gives way to a reticence to have any sort of "Defining the Relationship" talk, or openly expressing strong feelings at work.  Caution is a good thing, though, and sure beats the alternative-- blind oblivious obligation. 

The words "because I should," hold no currency anymore. Taking their place are the words "because I want to."

Dear Self: Stop twittering and blog

I keep coming across these really interesting articles and pieces of information about publishing, books and gender issues. So instead of collecting them or commenting, I take the lazy way out and Reader-add them or tweet about them. I'm working on a couple longer pieces, but just some things to think about:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Today in The Huffington Post Erica Heller, daughter of Catch-22 author Joseph Heller lamented the whoring out of the publishing industry, which has been a-buzz in the past week about million-dollar advances for Sarah Palin, Joe the Plumber, Nate Silver, the Bushes, Tina Fey and Sarah Silverman, among others. Heller vents:

"And now, onto that illustrious stage of authors, along with Kurt Vonnegut, James Jones and the rest of the best of the best, strut authoress and author, Palin and Mr. Plumber, with their books certain to be ghosted by some unsung schnooks, manuscripts that will be comprised mostly, I'm betting, of little more than bragging, lying and recycling some very stale air. For their efforts, they will be awarded gargantuan advances, piles of money that could feed several Third World nations for some time."

I understand the ire and this issues - commercialization versus contribution - is what gives me the most pause about publishing. This came up at the Future of the Book lecture I attended at the Newseum last month as well: namely the fact that publishers rely on big-name sells and gamble on advances for celebrities memoirs which are as intellectually void as Heller intimates. I get the impression that too often, when a work comes to the table, the first question isn't "Is it good?" they are "Is it marketable?" and "Will it sell?" 

I know this varies depending on the house, imprint and editor, but the culture of books that reflect our lives today is floudering beneath the surface, obscured by thick, glossy celeb hardcovers. What is the solution? 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the world of Book innovation, two new media tools are getting attention:

BookSwim which is being called the NetFlix of books is meeting mixed reviews. CSM's Chapter & Verse had it today. The timing is interesting, as our organization, publishers and booksellers are all  getting out a big "Buy books!" holiday media push (I'll refrain from pimping for now...). 

I'm in the camp noted eventually in the Chapter & Verse story: “How lazy can people be not to be able to go to the library?” Seriously. And what serious reader (serious enough to read 3 books a month) is concerned with "having their house cluttered up by books"?

Then there is DailyLit  something I've known about since attending the AAP intro to pub seminar in September. It got pimped by the WaPo yesterday. DailyLit is awesome - it sends a snippet of a book to your inbox/RSS feed/phone every day. I subscribed Anna Karenina, which I'm reading in actual paperback as well, so I can do double time when I don't have it on-hand. Out-of-copyright books are free, and you can subcribe to new books for around $5-$7. And you can send it to friends. Nothing tells a nerd you care like a snippet of a book via e-mail, right? I know that's the way to my heart... 

Dear Barack Obama

Dear Senator Obama, 

This letter is the vocalization of an on-going internal monologue I've been having with you for several months now. In just a few hours, there is a liklihood that you will become the next president of the United States. As much as the thought of this possibility enthralls me - typing it in messages to friends sends a shiver up my spine - I am also worried. Worried for you, Senator Obama, worried for us, worried for the future of Hope. 

You have brought something special to this country during the presidential campaign. At the beginning of your campaign for the democratic nomination, you electrified young voters like myself who saw much of our own idealism, enthusiasm, tenacity and honesty in you. You used the words "we" and "us" instead of "me" and "I"-- we liked that. 

You corralled the hopes of voters across the country by speaking to us, saying "look- I know what you're going through." We were and are, highly cynical - unwilling to saddle our trust on the back of politicians who don't know us, or stand impotent when it comes to creating policies that help our lives, rather than harming them. 

But something in your voice, surprisingly deep and even, assured us; something in your smile, accessible and normal, put us at ease. Millions of us have heard you speak, and our hearts lifted a bit when you included us all - blacks, whites, latinos, asians, native americans, straight, gay - in your references to a united america. Your promises haven't felt empty, they felt credible, tangibly so. 

And now, as I write this, people across the nation are standing in long lines to cast their ballots. Some for you, some for your rival John McCain. Your supporters awoke to the realization this morning that this could happen. But we can't believe it yet. 

I cannot fathom how exhausted you are, or how much more burdened you will soon become if you are indeed elected president. I wonder how long ago you realized what you must take on as president. I know you must see that in asking people to Hope like they haven't before, to believe that change is possible - and we believe it in part because we can tell you believe it  - they are also trusting you to lead them to that change, and fulfill that Hope. 

We're a nation in economic trouble - people drowning in their bills, their mortgages, their health insurance fees. We're a nation with an international identity problem - countries abroad think we're a bully, an elephant in a china shop. We're a nation of health issues, education issues, financial issues, foreign policy issues - all clamoring for attention and funding and resolution, all equally important. Americans want solutions to these issues, or steps in the right direction at the very least, and if you are elected, they will all look to you. 

As much as I hope, as much as I believe, I also fear that hope, because I still wonder how much change can be affected. How much can be done - how long will it take? You sagely warned us all in the closing of this campaign that it won't happen overnight. Clearly you realize our expectations are high and the times increasingly desperate. 

So how are you holding up? I always say, that we shouldn't want a candidate or president who is "just like me" because I am in no way prepared to be president. If I were in your position, looking out at faces of hundreds of thousands of Americans with all their dreams of change reflecting back at you, I'd be terrified. 

If you are elected, won't everything change? No longer Barack Obama, or Senator Obama - you'll be President Barack Obama, a man for the history books. I can't imagine how strange that transition would be. You must miss your daughters, miss your alone time, miss the time before you had an entourage of reporters (and bloggers, sorry about this) following your every step, watching every twitch of your facial muscles, weighing every word. Everyone talks about how much ego it takes to run for president - and probably yes, initially, a lot of ego goes into campaigning. But it is clearer to me now as never before, what amount of sacrifice it requires to actually be a public servant, especially to be a good one, an honorable one. Clearly there are perks - but there are also unfathomable responsibilities.

Despite all this, I believe firmly that all our hope is real. It is real and useful and must be redirected to take steps to heal the problems we now face. You said you believe this last night at your rally in Manassas - we need to maintain our fervor for change, no matter what happens tonight and tomorrow. Change, you say, is in all of our hands. I agree, and that is scary too. We believe in change, many of us believe in You - We also must believe in Us. 

Your call has brought many many people together this year; God-willing it will bind us together over the coming weeks as we switch over from one single goal - election - to many hundreds of goals aimed at improving our great nation.

Barack-or-Treat

My dad sent me this story in an e-mail from trick-or-treaters on Friday night in Lyncourt:

-----------------------------------

I was giving out candy on Halloween.  Anyone who could ID my Barack-O-Lantern got extra candy.  Most kids did pretty well. 

 

I had four sibs that come to the door.  They all held out their bags. 

 

I asked them "What do you say?"

 

"Trick or Treat," they all said.

 

I gave them candy and offered them the chance for addition sweets.

 

"That's that, you know, President dude," said the eldest boy.

 

"Almost!" I replied

 

"Yeah dummy, you mean Barack Obama!" said his sister, who was year or so older.

 

 "Yeah, Barack Obama, Barack Obama!!" chimed in the two little ones.

 

"Very good," I said and lavished extra goodies on them.

 

They went away very proud of themselves, telling their mother that they got extra candy because the knew who Barack Obama was.

 

There was a little girl, maybe 7 or 8 years old, patiently waiting her turn.  She walked up the steps and silently held out her bag.

 

Again I asked "Well, what do you say?"

 

She stuck out her chest, confidently looked me in eye and said "Barack Obama!"

 

Post-Standard Endorses Dan Maffei For Congress!!

Syracusans - unite! And vote for native son Dan Maffei on Tuesday. 

See the endorsement below (via syracuse.com) and watch the debates from the jump.

 ~ ~  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Our Choice: Maffei for Congress

by Post-Standard Editorial Board

Wednesday October 29, 2008, 5:02 AM

As a recent headline noted, Central New York's next congressman will be a rookie. The departure of veteran Rep. James Walsh, R-Onondaga, leaves a vacuum in the 25th Congressional District, which stretches from Onondaga County to Rochester's eastern suburbs.

Seeking the seat are Republican Dale Sweetland of Fabius, a former farmer, crop insurance salesman and chairman of the Onondaga County Legislature; Democrat Dan Maffei of DeWitt, who served as a congressional aide for Sen. Daniel Moynihan and for Rep. Charles Rangel's powerful House Ways and Means Committee and now works as a senior vice president for Pinnacle Capital Management; and the Green Populist Party's Howie Hawkins of Syracuse, a political activist who works for UPS.

read more 

C**sorsh** and the F***t A***d**nt

My friends may mock me, but I find the Guardian, Times Online and the Independent from the UK to be two of the most interesting, good-looking and informative newspapers. Some may call them rags, but where else could you find stories like this or this

That said - on the Guardian music blog today there was a look at iTunes censorship of "dirty words," which has apparently run amok - reaching into the realm of the completely harmless and censoring words such as "hot" (as in Katy Perry's H*t'N'Cold). Not so hot.

Maybe I will never understand, but how does starring out a couple of letters in the words fuck and shit make them safe for sensitive eyes, or - presumably - the eyes of kids who are apparently buying songs off of iTunes with their credit cards (a dubious presumption at best). Because KIDS ARE DUM, and words with starred out letters don't computer in the baby brains. There's no way they can tell what the word C**ks****er should be. 

Words, collections of phonemes with culturally ascribed meanings, are neutral entities. Nothing about the work fuck, is in-and-of-itself inherently offending. I'm not even approaching saying that words have no power - as a bibliophile and recovering English major, I clearly believe that words have power in their employment and in the intention of the user. But really, what good does it do to star-out some letters in "naughty words"? They aren't eradicated, the offending material isn't censored so it plays back normally anyway. All this does it draw attention to the stigmatized words and their "badness." 

It's amazing that the shining light of America rests so strongly on our first amendment, and that individuals from other countries come from thousands of miles away to be here, where the light will shine on them too, and yet, watch the Daily Show, listen to the radio, try to download music. See that the first amendment has its own asterisk, a footnote which after "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press;" * reads "*except for f*ck, s**t, c***, c***, t**s, etc. etc."

Here and There

Part of my job sends me bouncing around the internet every day in search of books, publishing and politics in the news and on the wires. Today was a good day. 

• Women and the Presidency: 'Crying Pat' Schroeder Reflects on Campaign Bias
  

• Design for Obama!
• Moby Dick: The Book of Massachusetts

• An Open Letter to McCain from NOW

• Palin as President?
  
• Yeats' Easter poem sold for $11,400
  
• Lower your Carbon Footprint - Break up

'Llectuals: The New PBS series

I wish! This is hilarious. Molly found it, so kudos to her. If only it were real...

Home sweet Syracuse

I miss Central New York. I don't think I've ever uttered these words before (or written them for that matter) and I certainly never expected to. 

Growing up I clung to being an "outsider" for some reason, despite the fact that that word described me about as well as it describes John McCain as regards Capitol Hill. "I live in Syracuse, but I was born in Massachusetts," I would assure people as a teenager. 

This originated from the deep roots the families I grew up around had in the area - kids who lived just a block away from their grandparents and cousins, fathers and sons who built bonds over their love of the Bills and SU basketball. I was equal parts jealous of their given community ties - my own family was spread out across New York State, in Florida, Texas, Maryland - and dismissive of them - some Syracusans remain in the county for the entirety of their lives, something which to me smacked of small-minded parochialism. 

As bratty as that attitude may have been, it developed out of a sense of loyalty to my own family's values: independence, experience, expansion - though, admittedly I never thought about it in those terms as a kid. 

My dad's family had moved around the country in his childhood, such that he and his three siblings were all born in different cities. My mom's family was still in large part clustered in Upstate NY, but they weren't within walking distance at any rate and my maternal grandparents lived in Florida for most of my childhood. 

Not exactly globetrotting, by any means, as you are probably already thinking, but as a kid one hardly needs an excuse to feel left out in any slight deviation from the norm. And the norm was and is north side italian grandparents straight off the boat, parents who graduated from Bishop Grimes too, or Solvay or Henniger maybe. 

So, four months after moving of moving away from Vassar and to Washington and as we advance deeper into fall, I find part of me missing the familiarity of my hometown, Syracuse. It is, at least in part, nostalgia for past falls - the return to school with its sharpened pencils, new school shoes and afternoon soccer practices; the colors seen out of car and bus windows riding to sporting events or to go apple picking at Beak 'n Skiff. 

Also, it is small, simple, manageable... unpretentious, plainfaced - all the things that once drove me away from it screaming, clamoring "more, bigger!" are also part of its charm.  

It makes me think of all this election season talk about small towns and small town values, which I don't really buy in to; I think people everywhere have these so-called small town values--family, loyalty, simplicity and morality for example. 

But in big cities, in young cities, these are locked in an arm wrestle with idealism, ambition, adventurousness. That isn't to say that no one is idealistic or ambitious in Syracuse, or that no one is simple in New York City or D.C., it's just about proportion and priority. I'm digressing.

There is a unique excitement when, wearing my sweatshirt with the orange letters Syracuse emblazoned on it, people chat with me about their CNY roots. I'm a native now, having given my formative years to the city. 

And while I chose to leave and to move here, quite happily, I'm beginning to wonder not if - but when - I will choose to go back and make an impact in a different way. I watch the campaign of democratic congressional candidate Dan Maffei and wonder. 

This sentimentalism may dry up (or maybe 'freeze' would be more appropriate) come November, when I'm getting calls from my parents about shoveling snow - but I'm not convinced that'll do it either. Especially if its a green christmas in D.C. 

Note: A couple days after writing this post, I was talking again with someone about Syracuse at a meeting. "I don't really like sports or heavy italian food, so I was already off on the wrong foot."  That sounds about right.

(photo from syracuse.com's Your Photos, by greggor23)

Lunch at the Capitol

When we rolled up to the back door of the U.S. Capitol building, we were met by a smiling plain clothes security guard (and several uniformed officers with giant guns) inquiring as to our purpose. ID card in hand, my boss explained we were here for a little tour. The guard was instantly apologetic, quickly jotting out name tags for all of us that boasted "Staff-Led Tour" in red caps. 

"You're Pat Schroeder, right?" He said, though it is more a statement than a query. When she confirmed he added, "We really miss you around here Pat." He was not the only person to say so. 

I was a bit starstruck, to say the least, following Pat around as I saw the inside of the Capitol building for the first time ever. We all-- we being Heather, three other young female AAP staffers and myself--kept close to her so as to adequately hear any insights about the building, or stories of her past in it... "The Senate side is like a cave, darker than the House side - someone should invest in 100-watt bulbs...those spots on the steps there are blood, from a duel. I'm serious! The male members called the founding mothers statue 'three women in a bathtub.' "

Periodically members would spot Pat and grab her for a hug. The first of which was Zoe Lofgren (D-CA), who I recognized as a member of the House Judiciary Committee because she sat in on the copyright subcommittee hearing I attended a few weeks back. 

Walking towards the House side, I peered out the windows toward the mall, and gazed, slack-jawed at the frescoed ceilings and wall-sized portraits. The commanding grandness of the capitol immediately brought to mind the Vatican museum in Rome, except for frazzled staffers replaced the ubiquitous amoeba-like clusters of tourists (though there were some of those). While we walked, Pat looked at me and, catching sight of my wide-eyed expression, smiled knowingly. I wondered if she was thinking at all of her early days in the building, her first votes...

Several twists and turns brought us to the members-only cafe. Tables on the periphery were taken up with members and staffers in suits and american flag lapel pins. Pat waved to a congressman a few tables away, Duncan Hunter (R-CA), with whom she sat on the Armed Services Committee. Towards the end of the meal, another member stopped over and Pat asked when they would be voting (on the second try at the bailout package). He told her fifteen minutes, and asked her how she would have voted. "I'm glad I don't have to make that decision," she laughed. 

After lunch, we made our way past the House chamber where they were indeed casting the vote that would pass the bailout. The most telling sign was the congestive presence of the press--the pressroom was filled wall-to-wall with a significant spillover of photographers and reporters tapping their palms anxiously with their notebooks, their eyes darting from staffer to staffer, looking to grab a member for comments. We passed John Hall (D-NY, Poughkeepsie) on his way in to vote. 

We breezed through the rotunda (see picture) and moved back toward the senate side, away from the fracas. The halls were suspiciously deserted of student groups and interns. A lone security officer stopped us and indicated we had to go back - until Pat whipped out her member card again. "That means Cheney's around," Pat murmured to me. On our way to the exit all laughed about how badass we felt as part of the entourage. Exiting the way we entered, I felt the stirring of a familiar desire -- the feeling I get when I'm on the hill, wanting to be a part of it all. It's the feeling of any government engagement - school, local, national - being part of the works, something important. It's something I felt on a small scale at Vassar, but will probably chase again until I can manage to get my hands on it, even if it is just the delusion of a significant contribution.