Super Bowl Sunday Political Notes

My father would be happy to know the Giants won today. He was a fan during so many terrible years, and now...dynastic.

The ads run during the Super Bowl all seemed short on imagination, but one stands out. Chrysler and Clint Eastwood came together for something that feels rather like an Obama campaign ad, especially in light of Mitt Romney having written an editorial at the time of the auto bailout that advocated for letting the American car companies die:



Clint's known to be an Republican but one who could care less about abortion or gay marriage issues, somewhere between Eisenhower and Libertarian. Whether he'd ever vote for Obama, I wouldn't wager, but nonetheless this seems to dovetail with the campaign.

As for Mitt, I've thought for a long time that the best GOP move would be to nominate Rep. Ron Paul (R-TX) and corner the Libertarian vote. I don't expect that to happen, but Rep. Paul is gathering forces this run that will surely be handed to his son, Sen. Rand Paul (R-KY) in four years. This expectation is why I do not believe Rep. Paul will mount a Third Party Presidential bid this year. With the spread of Rep. Paul's message between now and then, and his son's relative youth, I expect Sen. Paul will be a bigger threat to win the nomination in 2016 than his father is now.

The other choice for the GOP would be to choose an actual hardline Conservative candidate, i.e. former Senator Rick Santorum. He's for immediate war with Iran, he's against contraception let alone a woman's choice for her own body, what's not there for a staunch rightwing Republican to like? That way, if a "true" Conservative loses, the GOP would have some soul-searching to do and (at least if they're rational) come back more "moderate" in 2016, even if only in messaging.

Instead it appears they're getting Willard Mitt Romney, who's talking like a full-blown reactionary but is suspected of Liberalism. So if/when Mitt loses to President Obama, the hardcore Republicans will just say they should have gone even more Conservative, no soul-searching required.

If I were a Republican operative in the current situation I'd say, fine, let it be Mitt, whatever, as long as he's stays rich and writing checks. Mitt has enough money to fund zillions of dollars worth of consultants, ad agencies, speechwriters, campaign staff, etc. He's a 2012 gravy train for professional GOoPers. Take his money -- I'm sure it's as green as Teresa Heinz-Kerry's in 2008 -- and get paid for the cycle. Less likely that'll happen with Newty.

As for Obama's election strategy, to circle back to Clint and Chrysler:

US Vice President Joe Biden spelled out a blunt reelection message for his boss President Barack Obama on Tuesday -- "Osama bin Laden is dead and General Motors is alive."

Simple, direct, and even a little more imaginative than 9/10ths of this year's Super Bowl ads.

Steel Carnage

A month or so ago I was very moved by the Senna documentary, which now seems like a too-timely release with the death of two-time Indy winner Dan Wheldon at the Las Vegas Speedway on Sunday. It's a spectacular tragedy from afar -- Real Steel, as it were, Twisted Metal. Fifteen cars and one championship driver killed.

One can only imagine the horror of being in this crash, whether you survived, were injured, or, for poor Dan, killed. It brings up all sort of questions, philosophical and regulatory. It's the thing that makes you remember that racing cars at high speeds is exceedingly dangerous, that's why there's a premium paid for those that are good at it. It's the thing you usually forget -- and want to forget -- when you're watching a race.

The crazy thing about this one is the footage captured during the event and played after, replaying it from so many different angles. Like a videogame, but real and deadly:

At times it looks like a 3D animated reconstruction. I'll bet it'll be studied for movement, to understand what happened and how to prevent these kinds of accidents in the future...and to for some sort of special effects extravaganza to come, someday not so far away, to a multiplex near you.

Mechanized death.

Those Mild Canadians

As a fan of the city of Vancouver, BC, with relatives and a close friend there, and having enjoyed visiting several times, I was actually hoping their hockey team, the Canucks, might finally win the Stanley Cup for the first time in franchise history. However, the Boston Bruins had other ideas and blanked their Canadian competitors 4-0 in Game 7 of the championship series, one to remember.

Now, I think of Canadians as the kinder, gentler North Americans. Polite, considerate, covered by a national healthcare plan. So imagine my surprise to learn that there are riots rocking Vancouver tonight:

Even as the fans inside Rogers Arena erupted in boos as the coveted trophy was hoisted by the Bruins stars, crowds that had gathered downtown turned rowdy, setting some initial cars on fire, burning their fan jerseys and tossing debris. In less than an hour, confrontations grew as police in full riot gear began firing tear gas into the crowd and setting off flash bang grenades in an effort to disperse the crowd. CKNW News1130 radio reporters reported additional police were being sent into the city as officers attempted to seal off the downtown core.

As darkness fell, crowds overturned police cars and set more fires to private vehicles. One of the worst fires was in the lower level of a parking garage where an initial blaze spread to other cars, yet fire crews couldn't reach the fire because of the crowds. Live video from CTV showed young men jumping on cars fully engulfed in flames.

A news crew from KIRO TV in Seattle had to retreat into their live truck for their own safety. (KIRO TV photo)

Elsewhere, patrons attending a musical were told to stay in the theater to avoid the violence. There were also reports of businesses having windows smashed and other damage to shops, including the landmark store The Bay.

All that Molson beer making them sore losers? Turns out it's not the first time -- same thing when they lost the Cup in 1994:

After the NHL game was concluded, 50,000 to 70,000 individuals reportedly converged upon Downtown Vancouver. What initially was a gathering developed into a riot at Robson and Thurlow Street. This happened after an accident involving a man who fell from a lamp standard into the crowd below. The police, who were on bicycles, attempted to escort paramedics into the crowd. However, when the crowd attempted to take a bicycle from one constable, they retreated and warned the crowd to disperse. The riot squad congregated on Thurlow St. on the West side. Shortly after that the police fired tear gas into the crowd and people ran in all directions. As the police regained control of the streets, a police constable was left in front of major retail stores that had had their windows broken. Tear gas wafted through the open windows of residents of the West End that night, and St. Paul's Hospital placed guards at the emergency room entrance to prevent tear gas victims from entering, claiming there was nothing that could be done for them. Eventually, some bowls with water were placed outside by the security guards for those suffering from tear gas. The New York Times also reported on this event. ^[1] Total damage to the downtown core was estimated at $1.1 million CAD. Like other Robson and surrounding retailers, the then Eaton's department store had more than 50 of its storefront windows smashed.

Subduing the crowd required the efforts of both the Vancouver Police Department and Royal Canadian Mounted Police officers. In all, 540 officers were directly involved with the riot. Many individuals were arrested and charged, and up to 200 individuals were injured.^[2]

Our well-mannered Canadian neighbors.

Don't piss them off!

F'Real

The Fighter is a great movie and I wasn't expecting it. It's director David O. Russell's most sustained and successful film, with a great story wrapped in a true indie spirit, shot in the streets and gyms and crack dens of Lowell, Massachusetts.

It's based on the true story of a great boxer, Mickey Ward (Mark Wahlberg), who's a solid guy in every sense, but he's 31 and has his last shot to be more than a stepping-stone. His half-brother, an ex-boxer named Dickey Eklund is his trainer, but he's in it for the crack money. His mother is his manager, and she's toxic as well. In the trailer it looked like Christian Bale's astonishing performance as Dickey might overturn the narrative ship, but it's actually just an extremely sharp and powerful reflecting subplot, particularly during a point where the story bifurcates, and when it reunites it's with a vengeance.

As much as its a boxing movie, it's about family, asking what do you owe your fellow family members, and what do they owe you. Melissa Leo's transformation in her role as the mother is a departure from anything I've seen her do before, the hair and outfits and the shoes, but also the incredible specificity she achieves in how she so expertly applies guilt, shame and loyalty in dealing not just with her two sons but her seven heinous daughters as well.

Amy Adams is the other big name in the movie, has a notable upgrade on the noble girlfriend role, and she gets Lowell, gets to curse, and actually has an impact on the story. She and Wahlberg make a convincing couple in their love scenes together, very sweet. It's a tribute to Wahlberg's success here as a leading man that all those around him are getting accolades, while he holds down the fort with quiet decency and a body he trained for four years to play the role.

Wahlberg evidently held the movie together over a long gestation as well. It makes sense for him to go back to Massachusetts, as he did so well in The Departed. When you see the real Micky and Dickey for a few moments at the end of the movie, it all makes sense.

These two guys appear to be exactly who they are in the movie. Two inseparable brothers, one who's silent and steady, the other who can't shut his mouth.

True love.

Those Fun French

If there's one thing that unites Americans it's having a good laugh about the French. Sure, Left and Right split on "Freedom Fries," but when those funny French folks get in their own way, hilarity ensues:

France's World Cup team refused to train Sunday in protest of striker Nicolas Anelka's expulsion from the squad, prompted by a profanity-laced tirade against coach Raymond Domenech the day before.

The latest round of turbulence also led to the resignation of France team director Jean-Louis Valentin, who said he was fed up with the team.

"It's a scandal for the French, for the young people here. It's a scandal for the federation and the French team," Valentin said. "They don't want to train. It's unacceptable."

Before getting in a car and driving off, he added: "As for me, it's over. I'm leaving the federation. I'm sickened and disgusted."

And to overstate the obvious:

"Everyone in the whole world is mocking us now," winger Franck Ribery said on television hours before training even started. "I'm gutted, because we're not playing football any more."

World Cup fever for all!

Sports News

Who'da thought I'd ever in this lifetime become a Phoenix Suns fan:

There was almost no evidence in the loud arena of the storm stirred up on Tuesday when Suns owner Robert Sarver issued a statement saying the team would wear "Los Suns" on their jerseys, to celebrate diversity on Cinco de Mayo but also to protest the immigration bill passed by the Arizona legislature and signed by Gov. Jan Brewer.

"I'm proud of our owner for making this stand but we're not out there to alienate," Nash said. "We want this to be all about love in our community. People, regardless of whether they agree with me or not, we have love for everybody."

The bill has drawn criticism from civil rights groups and others, including President Barack Obama, who called it "misguided."

Now a Steve Nash fan for life.

And the Suns won.

Basketball Prez

This post comes thanks to longtime reader Master of all that is Fu, who writes in the true spirit of bipartisanship:

I don't have to agree with him to like him. This is pretty cool.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/us_obama_basketball

It gets better:

After a referee made a call that went against Georgetown, an obscene chant was cut short after one student admonished another, "Dude, the president of the United States is right there."

I'm just hoping he takes Billy Packers job in 3 years.

Obama says in the video it could be three or could be seven, but he's coming for Billy's job.

Watch:



I'm betting on seven.

Just for One Day

The saddest story in sports, Mark MacGwire comes clean in order to take a pitching coach job in peace. Is it just more evidence of our mass misplaced hero worship?

A real hero, Miep Gies, who protected Anne Frank and saved her diary.

A hero of the cinema, Eric Rohmer.

Her Satanic Majesty's Request.

Tiger's Wood

Nettertainment tries not to spend too much time covering scandal and for the early part of this latest one, I thought it was his own family business, who cares. But now the Tiger Woods story is exploding in so many ways, one must stand back in awe.

First there was the this-doesn't-add-up car accident two doors down from his house with his wife ventilating car windows with a golf club. Now I hear he hasn't shown himself in public since then because his tooth is chipped, maybe from a 5-iron assault that started in the house and sent him running and driving, barefoot.

We've also learned that his wife spoke with one of his girlfriends the day of the "accident" and heard the voice message of him asking the same girlfriend (or a different one?) to remove her i.d. from her phone. That woman had scheduled a press conference, but for a rumored $1,000,000 called it off. Meanwhile his wife was renegotiating their prenuptial agreement to the tune of $80,000,000 if she sticks with him for another eight years; not sure if she's still interested, having reportedly moved out of their home today. Not sure who's got the kids.

This was the climax of a day when a mistress or fling or whatever you want to call these ladies seemed to come out of the woodwork one an hour. The last number I heard was twelve. There's a waitress, a pornographic actress, lots of augmentation, bleached blondes, hair-pulled brunettes (Tiger reportedly likes it "rough," is well-endowed but doesn't bother with condoms), you name it. His wife looks augmented to me as well, and clearly has a strong swing.

Best of all, one of these high-moral women is in negotiations with Playgirl to publish nude photos of the golf champion. Assuming each of these ladies is raising their hand while the million dollar bills are being handed out, what would such photos be worth? Five million dollars? Wouldn't that be worth not having them plastered across the Internet, forever imprinting the image of nude Tiger in our collective consciousness so that every time we saw him teeing off, we'd be thinking him naked with a different club?

I don't expect every brilliant performer in the world to be a saint, nor is it much of a surprise that someone with such a squeaky clean reputation turns out to be a serial adulterer. It is, however, a real bummer for anyone with kids who looked up to Tiger and, here's the rub, a real bummer for his brand.

Clearly the payoffs to wife and mistress were Tiger Woods, Inc. springing into action. I find a fascination in imagining his agent(s) and lawyer(s) burning up the phone lines to corporate sponsors, desperate to reassure one and all that this was under control and would blow over. Heck, if it's worth $10MM/year to his wife to keep her aboard, then he must be raking in ten times that annually.

Maybe she's upset the apple cart for good, and maybe it will end up hurting her financially as much as it must be starting to hurt him. Maybe he's over-leveraged like all the all rich folks and this will send him tumbling. The first sponsor pull-outs (faster than Tiger ever did) have yet to be made public, but today was not a good day for that -- one assumes a morals clause in most of these contracts.

Even the EA Sports Tiger Woods Golf videogame franchise would not be immune. Won't there be jokes about the secret level where Tiger shags the comely caddy right there on the 18th hole green? Or maybe the cheat code Easter Egg where you get to play as his wife...only you tee off on his head!

The little car crash that started this all has turned into a much bigger can't-turn-away car crash, sometimes in slow motion, sometimes in a tumble like today. It's a perverse fascination to be sure, and at this stage in our culture where the line between public and private is so dissolved, our illusions about our heroes so shredded, it seems that moral judgment is almost beside the point. Make it if you like, but we're all sinners in our own way, so be it.

It hurts a little to see yet another good icon revealed as just another dumb dude, the man who had too much but was supposed to stand for something.What's more fascinating is watching the process, same as it ever was but maybe a bit more horrifying, humiliating and hilarious that usual, inadvertent bread and circuses for our entertainment.

The best move now is to take Oprah up on her reported offer of advice and an appearance. Confess to being a sex addict on her show and having entered a rehab program, take the public lashing and the eventual forgiveness, ideally within the same hour. Beg for your wife's forgiveness maybe there in public, maybe Oprah will even have her waiting in the wings and stage your reunion.

Either that or sign that reality show deal. Right now.

While you're hot.

Lovely

So the President spends a few hours in Copenhagen pitching for an Olympian economic stimulus for Chicago, and as he's flying back on Air Force One getting a briefing from our military man leading in Afghanistan, the U.S. loses in the first round of IOC voting, with Rio de Janeiro taking the gold for 2016 two rounds later.

As someone who has worked for three different television networks at three different Olympic Games, I have a vast fondness for the event and a little understanding of how such decisions are made. Rio was the right choice for several reasons: the first South American games in history, and the ability for the games to change the city, what with all the infrastructure that must be built over the next seven years, the money that will flow in and, yes, work its way down to local businesses and workers, and the pride it instills, putting the city on the map, looked at in a way it hasn't been before.

Madrid, Tokyo and Chicago can't make that claim for 2016.

Since all the other national leaders of contending cities showed up, I'm glad Obama went as well. Imagine the reaction if the result had been the same and he'd been the one who hadn't shown up. Yet for some reason, wait a minute, it's coming to me...yes, now I remember why so many conservatives and Republicans were gleefully celebrating America's loss of the 2016 Summer Olympic Games: their undisguised hatred of President Barack Obama. Stronger than their love of America. Perhaps revealing their hatred of America, i.e. the America of today and the future?

Check out this gathering of conservatives erupting into unanimous applause. This is the so-called Americans For Prosperity -- one of the main organizing groups behind the tea party protests -- yet they don't seem to be behind prosperity for Chicago in 2016:



Credit where credit is due: former GOP Representative Joe Scarborough thanks the President for trying. And sure, there are good reasons from a progressive standpoint to oppose Chicago winning the Olympics and be happy for the loss -- this way, no poor renters will be displaced by new Olympic stadiums and the city won't incur Olympian debt; but bottom line is that it's not as big a deal for Chicago to lose as it is for Rio to win.

Check out their celebration. With bonus Pele:



Now that's going to be a hell of a party in 2016.

Since 1927

Baseball gets slagged these days as too slow or uninteresting for our contemporary ADD nation. But which there are oddities of interesting achievement in all sports, there's nothing like baseball, with a history going back well over a century, and the rather Nineteenth Century rules which lead to moments like this:

NEW YORK (Associated Press) - It happened so fast, Eric Bruntlett needed a few moments before he realized he had just ended a game with an unassisted triple play.

Bruntlett became the second player in major league history to get the final three outs on his own, accomplishing the feat Sunday to preserve the Philadelphia Phillies' 9-7 victory over the New York Mets...

...Bruntlett turned the 15th unassisted triple play in big league history -- the second that ended a game. Detroit Tigers first baseman Johnny Neun also turned the trick on May 31, 1927, completing a 1-0 victory over Cleveland, according to STATS LLC.

The awesome moment:



It's been statistically determined that the hardest single thing to do in sports is to hit a major league baseball pitch, i.e. a 90-mile an hour fastball.

An unassisted triple play is harder. And a game-ending one only seems to come around once every 82 years.

Tragic Women

Scoured the news of the day and these two stories stood out above the sordid fray of the U.S. campaigns and the surge failure in Iraq, two women who have made grave decisions gone tragically, horrifically awry.

On one hand you have Marion Jones, once a young American Olympian and hero, a record-breaker, the fastest woman on earth. Now, at age 32 with two young children, she finds herself sentenced to six months in prison for lying to Federal prosecutors (you know, what El Presidente allowed apparatchik Scooter Libby to get out of), in financial ruin as she is stripped of five Olympic medals and all titles after 2000 erased from the record books.

One imagines she's nothing but contrite, certainly based on her public statements, and got some breaks for going against her ex-coach in a fraud investigation. It's too sad to imagine, this golden girl of Sydney 2000.

Then there's this account in BagnewsNotes of Condoleezza Rice's personal responsibility for coaxing Benizar Bhutto to return to Pakistan:

For Benazir Bhutto, the decision to return to Pakistan was sealed during a telephone call from Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice just a week before Bhutto flew home in October. The call culminated more than a year of secret diplomacy — and came only when it became clear that the heir to Pakistan's most powerful political dynasty was the only one who could bail out Washington's key ally in the battle against terrorism.

...where she was promptly assassinated:

On October 26th, Wolf Blitzer also received a now highly publicized message from Bhutto, via Siegel, to be disclose only upon her death. It detailed the basic security requirements above, and asked that the reporter make it known that the four police vehicles she had requested to surround her vehicle while traveling were never supplied. ...If you haven't seen the video footage of the assassination, by the way, you might notice that not only was there no escort, but three nearby policemen supposedly tasked to protect Bhutto's car at the moment of the attack where simply idling around.

Blood on their hands.

Marion Jones' cheating meant the diminution of the second place athletes, the ones who seem to have played by the rules and had their careers eclipsed by hers. The blood of her reputation as a human being, as a member of society, whether on the national stage or buying groceries in the supermarket.

Condoleezza Rice, trying so obviously to wash the blood of Iraq off her hands (and, to some of us, some stainage from 9/11) with the renewed yet inconclusive Mideast peace initiative and the stabilizing of Pakistan.

She put her faith in another political woman, one who had once run the country to which she was being spurred to return; and then, with whatever degree of culpability, sent her to a swift and violent grave.