On Sun, Mar 27, 2011 at 12:30 PM, Louis Proyect <[email protected]> wrote: > Whatever else you want to say about “Dreams for My Father”, it was > skillfully written. I wondered after reading it whether many of the > campaign volunteers decided to sign up if for no other reason that the > author was more intelligent than the average politician. Thematically, > it is related to Ralph Ellison’s “Invisible Man” although I doubt that > Obama has ever acknowledged the influence of this novel that is a > combination of Black consciousness and existential outsider literature. > > If “Dreams for My Father” was ghost-written by Bill Ayers, one of the > less outrageous claims of the ultraright, then one might conclude that > “Audacity of Hope” was ghost-written by a committee consisting of David > Broder, Thomas Friedman, and Juan Williams. It is a platitude-sodden > mess that has none of the piquancy of the first book—understandable > since it was a typical meet-the-candidate type venture. Since I am > toying with the idea of writing a comic book on Obama, this research is > a necessary evil.
Do you have drawing skill? Or a graphic partner? Or are you planning to use the multitude of public domain photos and art about Obama? If you don't draw, maybe you could do a blog post about "how to make a comic book even if you can't draw". > > There is one passage that does have the ring of truth, however. In it > Obama practically predicts the politician he would become: > > Increasingly I found myself spending time with people of means—law firm > partners and investment bankers, hedge fund managers and venture > capitalists. As a rule, they were smart, interesting people, > knowledgeable about public policy, liberal in their politics, expecting > nothing more than a hearing of their opinions in exchange for their > checks. But they reflected, almost uniformly, the perspectives of their > class: the top 1 percent or so of the in¬come scale that can afford to > write a $2,000 check to a political candidate. They believed in the free > market and an educational meritocracy; they found it hard to imagine > that there might be any social ill that could not be cured by a high SAT > score. They had no patience with protectionism, found unions > troublesome, and were not particularly sympathetic to those whose lives > were upended by the movements of global capital. Most were adamantly > prochoice and antigun and were vaguely suspicious of deep religious > sentiment. > > And although my own worldview and theirs corresponded in many ways—I had > gone to the same schools, after all, had read the same books, and > worried about my kids in many of the same ways—I found myself avoiding > certain topics during conversations with them, papering over possible > differences, anticipating their expectations. On core issues I was > candid; I had no problem telling well-heeled supporters that the tax > cuts they'd received from George Bush should be reversed. Whenever I > could, I would try to share with them some of the perspectives I was > hearing from other portions of the electorate: the legitimate role of > faith in politics, say, or the deep cultural meaning of guns in rural > parts of the state. > > Still, I know that as a consequence of my fund-raising I became more > like the wealthy donors I met, in the very particular sense that I spent > more and more of my time above the fray, out¬side the world of immediate > hunger, disappointment, fear, irrationality, and frequent hardship of > the other 99 percent of the copulation—that is, the people that I'd > entered public life to serve. And in one fashion or another, I suspect > this is true for every senator: The longer you are a senator, the > narrower the scope of your interactions. You may fight it, with town > hall meetings and listening tours and stops by the old neighborhood. But > your schedule dictates that you move in a different orbit from most of > the people you represent. > > And perhaps as the next race approaches, a voice within tells you that > you don't want to have to go through all the misery of raising all that > money in small increments all over again. You realize that you no longer > have the cachet you did as the upstart, the fresh face; you haven't > changed Washington, and you've made a lot of people unhappy with > difficult votes. The path of least resistance—of fund-raisers organized > by the special interests, the corporate PACs, and the top lobbying > shops—starts to look awfully tempting, and if the opinions of these > insiders don't quite jibe with those you once held, you learn to > rationalize the changes as a matter of realism, of compromise, of > learning the ropes. The problems of ordinary people, the voices of the > Rust Belt town or the dwindling heartland, become a distant echo rather > than a palpable reality, abstractions to be managed rather than battles > to be fought. > > _______________________________________________ > pen-l mailing list > [email protected] > https://lists.csuchico.edu/mailman/listinfo/pen-l > -- Facebook: Gar Lipow Twitter: GarLipow Grist Blog: http://www.grist.org/member/1598 Static page: http://www.nohairshirts.com _______________________________________________ pen-l mailing list [email protected] https://lists.csuchico.edu/mailman/listinfo/pen-l
