NC Senator Bob Rucho Stabs Democracy, Leaves It Bleeding On Senate Floor

Image courtesy of the Raleigh News & Observer

The following is a Facebook post from NC Senator Josh Stein.

Senate Finance Committee Chair Bob Rucho flouted the democratic process yesterday to ram an anti-clean tech bill through committee.

We considered a House bill to curtail the development of solar and other renewables. Before we took the voice vote, Sen. Blue called for division, which is a process where members raise their hands to be counted. The Senate Rules are explicit. When a member calls for division, the chair “shall” do so.

Sen. Rucho refused saying he was exercising his authority as chair. He has no such authority. It was a rank abuse of power. Continue reading

Politics

Revolving door spits out a Koch lobbyist for McConnell’s ‘policy chief’

The road to personal riches and political influence in Washington, D.C., is well trod. From Congress to K Street and back. From the White House to K Street and back. From numerous executive branch appointments to K Street and back. It’s called “the revolving door.” (If you’d like a close look at how many former government employees and members of Congress have been seduced by the fat purses at K Street, the good folks at the Center for Responsive Politics will provide you details.)

Yes, I know: This isn’t news. It’s historical; it has happened for generations. It rarely draws the attention it ought to. (Hear that, CNN? New York Times? Washington Post? Network news? Get off the dinner party circuit, risk losing your access to the powerful, and dig into these people.)

But every now and then, a door revolves and disgorges something so egregious that any hope, any last shred of hope, that decent, fair, legislatively productive government is possible fades to black.

Meet Hazen Marshall (here and here). You can see in his LinkedIn profile that he’s “revolved” before.

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Vote for Sam in the Doors Open Denver Photo Contest! Or don’t. But vote for somebody.

I always sort of hate it when people ping me and ask that I vote for them in contests they have entered. I usually do, but inside I’m thinking hey, what if I don’t think you’re the best? I love and support my friends, of course, but when it’s time for me to enter something, I’m self-conscious about saying “go vote for me.”

So, I’m entered in the annual Doors Open Denver Photo Contest. Most of it is juried, but there is also a people’s choice vote, and I’d like to invite you to vote for me – if you think I’m worthy. Continue reading

ArtSunday

Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey: Good Enough…

Catherine Morland is like most adolescents: too certain about what (she thinks) she knows, too uncertain about what she knows (she thinks) she doesn’t. Her negotiation of coming of age is about learning to manage both what she knows and what she doesn’t know – as well as learning how to recognize when she knows and when she doesn’t….

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen (image courtesy Goodreads)

My life as a famous and beloved book essayist has its twists and turns. This week’s particular turn took me north to Maryland where I served in the graduation festivities at the university where I teach. As a result (and because I’m currently working my way through Daniel Forbes’ dystopian satire  Derail this Train Wreck), I’m doing what I warned you I might a week or so ago: writing about Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey.

Northanger Abbey is probably my least favorite of all great Jane’s works. There are a couple of reasons for this, and you may as well know them. First, it was published posthumously (as was my favorite of Austen’s works, the marvelous and prescient Persuasion about which I will write near the end of this year) although it was the first novel she ever completed. The story behind that is well documented: Northanger Abbey was accepted for publication, but the publisher later decided not to issue the book. Over a decade later – near the too early end of Austen’s life – her brother Henry bought the book back from that same publisher for the same price for which it had originally been purchased. Evidently, that publisher, Crosby and Co., was not known for either editorial or business acumen: in the time between their purchase of the manuscript in 1803 and Henry Austen’s repurchase of the manuscript in 1816 (a mere year before Jane’s death), Miss Austen had published four other novels of which a good publisher ought to have heard: Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Mansfield Park, and Emma. Though published initially by “A Lady,” anyone with an interest in literature or reading knew who the author was – except the fine folks at Crosby and Co. it seems. To get to the point, reason #1 why Northanger Abbey is my least favorite Austen work is that it’s a first novel with a first novel’s foibles: too much self-satisfied obvious authorial voice, too little attention to smoothing out the rough patches, which are numerous. Continue reading

Boston Marathon

Personal record: a participant’s view of the Boston Marathon

Boston MarathonHow was Boston?

Not what I expected.

I  didn’t expect the intensity. The marathon is on the front of every newspaper, all over television, on banners on the street, and literally a hundred thousand people—runners, their entourages, and volunteers, all wear Boston gear. Everyone, from cabbies to hotel clerks to passersby’s, asks if you’re running. It’s as if the entire world has collapsed inward like a blue-white dwarf, and everything that matters is within a one mile space stretching from Boston Common down Boylston Street to the Finish Line. Continue reading

WordsDay: Literature

Jose Saramago: Baltasar, Blimunda, and The Flight to Happiness

“…the longer you live the more you will realize that the world is like a great shadow pervading our hearts. That is why the world seems so empty and eventually becomes unbearable.” – José Saramago, Baltasar and Blimunda

Baltasar and Blimunda by Jose Saramago (image courtesy Goodreads)

After taking longer than I should have (and mewling and puking about it in the process) I have finished Portuguese Nobelist José  Saramago’s masterful Baltasar and Blimunda from the 2015 reading list. It’s a powerful novel as both a tale of the mystery of love and as a novel of ideas. Saramago’s genius is his ability to wed these very disparate sorts of stories (romance, political statement). Saramago’s gift to readers is that he does both of these in a subtle, even elliptical way, introducing themes, spinning them out, spinning away from them, then gradually winding us back to them when we have all but forgotten them. Like a Scarlatti sonata, Baltasar and Blimunda is part entertainment, part education, and part expression of the artist’s view of the world.

More about the power of the imagination to do both good and evil than any other theme, Baltasar and Blimunda asks us to consider why we allow others’ ideas to control our destinies…. Continue reading

zinsser-book

William Zinsser, dead at 92: On having written well

The promulgator (a word he would likely detest) of the writing philosophy that has guided me since 1976 has left us. William Zinsser, author of “On Writing Well,” is dead at 92 years old.

Zinsser’s book went through six editions. Each revision reflected his growth as a writer and thinker as well as technological and cultural change. From The Times’ obit, masterfully written by Douglas Martin:

But it was his role as an arbiter of good writing that resonated widely and deeply. “On Writing Well,” first published by Harper & Row in 1976, has gone through repeated editions, at least four of which were substantially revised to include subjects like new technologies (the word processor) and new demographic trends (more writers from other cultural traditions).

I’ve been fortunate. I’ve spoken to him twice, both by phone, back in the late ’70s and early ’80s. He was warm, concise, and approachable. I’ve bought so many copies of his book. I keep giving a copy to (well, to be honest, pushing a copy on) one of my students, so, over the years, I’ve probably bought more than 50 copies of “On Writing Well.”

When I first read it, after its publication in 1976, I’d been in the news business for only six years. As a writer, I was far more the hack than a Hemingway. I found Zinsser’s book interesting, but, in the word created by Robert Heinlein, I didn’t “grok” it until many years and many annual re-readings (my New Year’s Day tradition still) later.
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