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.
>
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