This is unequivocally my favorite song of the year.
And therein lies the difference, and therein…
It seems voters rejected anti-immigrant vitriol when it spewed from the mouths of candidates, but when that same rhetoric came in the faceless form of citizen’s initiatives that mixed fiscal austerity with xenophobia — voters swallowed the bait. Why should your tax dollars go to services for illegal immigrants? This was the message that anti-immigrant forces took to Arizonans. It was classic Lou Dobbs, class vs. race, and it worked.
Richard Kim examines the new face of Democratic populism. It’s not pretty.
[Conversely, John Nichols exercises his right to wish fulfillment. It’s fair to set aside trends in the Democratic Party since say 1984, but whatever! I mean, if you ignore Murtha and Ford altogether, his thesis is, well, completely implausible!]
There’s no culture, there’s no spies!
For all the sixth borough talk that’s gone on in the past year, there’s one thing that’s undeniable: Philadelphia is a city without film culture. Apart from what’s curated at International House or appears haphazardly at local colleges, there’s no independent or repertory cinema to speak of. The two Philadelphia film festivals are spotty at best and run so late in the festival season that many offerings have already screened well in advance of the festival. Despite the heavy lifting of several good local critics, there just isn’t much “there” there. It’s not hard to see why Netflix has taken off in cities like ours [or, as the case may be, the films aren’t in print, in which case Rossellini may as well be a unicorn.]
Yeah, all those stars drip down like butter, and promises are sweet.
Meme alert! R.E.M. versus U2 cropped up everywhere last week. It’s not a new argument, but the revival of this debate is apropos of, well, nothing. But last week there were articles in Stylus and Slate, followed by commentary at Rolling Stone. My personal favorite is a headscratcher, but trying to choose between Achtung, Baby and Monster on their merits is kind of fun. Viewed differently, it’s trying to figure out who fared better with his mid-life crisis, version 1.0.
[I prefer Monster. It’s R.E.M. at their most reactionary and obnoxious. The album takes as a fait accompli that Nirvana and Sonic Youth were rock’s purest, noisiest, most rebellious conceit and that this expression of cocksure idolatry would get the point across. It makes a great tribute record, an ode to the nineties, etc. etc. When you factor in that Maxim hated it, listing Monster number 5 among the 30 worst records of all time, it begins to make a lot of sense that sentimental mallpunks would latch on to it, then and now. In any case, I guess “Tongue” would’ve freaked out their readership anyway.]
Here’s a house to put wolves out the door.
Rumsfeld’s resignation comes about two and a half years too late. But if perception is greater than reality, by creating a softer image of compromise and reason, Bush gives a sop to Democrats eager to feel as though they’ve influenced something and galvanizes a conservative movement thirsting for martyrdom. This is the stuff that helps preserve the status quo in the guise of reform. In other words, a kinder, gentler war.