Give a Cheer for the Dos Exquis Here

From Wikipedia--Sen. Elizabeth Warren in the 2020 Nevada debate. Or at least how I picture her, with Mike Bloomberg in the background.

In 2016, a disaster of an election year that yielded the most incompetent, damaging president in U.S. history, it’s important to note that Hillary Clinton not only was almost elected, but did win the popular vote.

True, we don’t elect presidents by popular vote. Maybe we should, but we do not. Trump did not win the trumped-up landslide that he constantly brags about and dreams up—being delusional and constantly lying is one of the new “normals" of this historically awful president—but he did win, by the anachronistic and un-democratic federal rules we have, in 2016.

And he needs, he desperately needs, to not only be defeated in 2020, but crushed. The whole Trumpism movement needs to get a severe brush-back pitch. He’s crowding our freedoms at the plate. Let’s bean him and all of his Joni Ernst enablers.

Anyway, I had several impressions of the Nevada democratic debate. As many observed, the knives were out for Mayor Bloomberg, and I think he was pretty effectively sliced and diced. Mr. Mayor, I appreciate that you’re spending your own money to get rid of Trump. Drop out and spend to elect other Democrats, please.

The other impression I have is that, to me, the two most best candidates are still the ones I toyed most with supporting when they ran in Iowa.

Sen. Amy Klobuchar is still my number-one choice, because she represents a moderate approach that I agree with, because she is electable and because I think she would be a decent president.

Sen. Elizabeth Warren, on the other hand, is definitely to my left. And I definitely like her. In terms of imaging a candidate who can handle Trump in a debate, Lizzie seems like she’s the Xena of the pack, the female warrior who is ready for battle.

Amy is a great debater, too, but I think she had an off night Wednesday.

Senator Klobuchar, queen of the north. Image from wikimedia commons by Lorie Shaull.

My favorite moment of the debate was when a reporter asked Amy about not knowing the President of Mexico’s name. Amy was a bit flustered, and it showed. Xena swooped in, sword drawn, and leapt to her defense.

Way to go, dos equis mafia. I’m not into identity politics—yet I think it would be a healthy, cool thing if the United States elected a woman, especially if that woman would send hyper toxic male Tangerine Hitler, wounded and hurt, back to Mar-A-Lago.

Still, I thought it was a good night for my two favorite Democrats who happen to be double X’s named Amy and Elizabeth. I also liked Mayor Pete Buttigieg, and so kudos to the kid from Indiana.

Thursday night's champ, Xena, Warrior Princess. Image from wikimedia commons by Gage Skidmore.

Unlike some of my Facebook friends who state that they would leave the party if Bloomberg is nominated, I recognize that any Democrat running in 2020 will not be Donald Trump, and not being Donald Trump makes almost any random human being more fit for office than he is. I refuse to say I would take my marbles and go home if I don’t get my way—that’s the road to defeat and Democrats cannot afford to invoke their party’s history and snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

So, to paraphrase Senator Warren—I’ll vote for the person that the Democrats choose. But I hope they choose Amy or Elizabeth or maybe Pete. I don’t hate Bernie, but I see serious flaws in him as both a candidate and a president—but if the party goes a bit crazy in 2020 in the opposite direction of the crazy that infected the Republicans in 2016, then yes, I would vote for the socialist. At least he’s not a fascist.

Hell, I would vote for Rep. Tusli Gabbard, who seems like a basket of crazy in this campaign. Even a basket of crazy is not as crazy as the mountain of orange insanity that we have now.

Oh, Have Mercy

From Wikipedia, Warner Brothers poster

Is it just me, or does it seem lately as if movies have grown up a bit?

I missed “Midway,” but saw “Little Women” and loved it. And this week, on a Wednesday night, my wife and I went to the local budget cinema to see “Just Mercy.”

It was a rather somber movie, covering rather serious themes of the death penalty, the criminal justice system and racism. And it was very entertaining and watchable.

One of the characters is a witness whose testimony was used to convict a black man of a murder he did not commit. I had an odd reaction every time he was on screen, a sort of Rocky and Bullwinkle thought.

That voice. Where have I heard that voice?

It wasn’t until later, during the drive home, that it suddenly hit me. The ABC sitcom “Modern Family.” Season three, first episode, “Dude Ranch.” The horny cowboy.

Anyway, “Just Mercy” was an emotional journey. It was hard when one convict lost his appeal and was executed. It was a catharsis when the main prisoner was released, although he and his life were forever scared.

If you can make the time, catch “Just Mercy” before it’s gone from theaters.

Are GOP Snowflakes Starting to Melt?

The GOP war on journalism is nothing new. Spiro Agnew launch a tirade against the nattering nabobs in 1971 in Des Moines, Iowa. Still, the party of Lincoln, in the age of Trump, is increasingly using journalists as a punching bag for political gain.

From Wikimedia Commons, official image.

We’ve seen lots of examples in recent days. There is the war between Mike Pompeo, the volatile and sensitive Secretary of State, who apparently can’t abide an uppity NPR reporter asking pretty tame and obvious questions.

He says that he has done that’s right He has defended everybody. But he won’t name a time when he actually defended former ambassador to Ukraine Marie Yovanovitch.

Over the weekend, after a testy interview with NPR’s Mary Louise Kelly, she says Pompeo called her into an unrecorded meeting to berate her. He doesn’t deny it, but claims it was an off-the-record conversation.

I honestly don’t believe Mike Pompeo. The NPR line and statements seem calmer and seem to express a willingness to verify—whereas Pompeo is part of an administration that has no credulity, where lies and a lack of accountability are the status quo. And Kelly seems to be clear in her description of the events—listen to the full interview (link at the top of this post) that preceded Pompeo’s outburst, followed by Kelly describing the second conversation.

An off-the-record interview requires a clear agreement between the journalist and the source—and given the context and timing of what happened, again, the NPR reporter appears to be the truth teller in this case. It is shameful that the State Department has followed up Pompeo’s toddlerish behavior by banning NPR from an official trip—banning a whole organization because you don’t like one interview is not OK.

From Marylouisekellybooks.com, image by Katarina Price.

And Pompeo going ballistic on Kelly is part of a common GOP strategy. Consider how Sen. Martha McSally, running in a tough election campaign, attacked a CNN reporter who was asking a reasonable question about whether the Senate should hear new evidence from

“You’re a liberal hack,” she said in passing, in an exchange videotaped and shared by one of her aides. I think she protests too much—and won’t answer the question. Anderson Cooper commentary on the event is shown below.

One of the many tragedies of the era of Trump is how far the Dear Leader has gone in trashing all norms of discourse. It’s not just that he speaks in expletive-laced tirades, or tweets from his dark, evil heart and not from his increasingly publicly dysfunctional brain—but he is also tapping in to a deep and long history of the Republican Party turning its back on the marketplace of ideas.

See the screenshot of a recent tweet from Todd Dorman, opinion page editor of The Gazette. The chair of the Iowa GOP is in the attack-the-hack pack. Increasingly, in recent election cycles, the Iowa GOP has followed it’s national Dear Leader in making the press the enemy for political convenience.

Well, I don’t think it’s any wonder why. If you can’t argue the facts, pound the table and shout loudly is a common and old debate tactic. Or claim bias and excuse yourself from the discourse.

Republicans, you’re embarrassing yourselves. Calling out bias if you think it’s there and have a basis for it? OK, that’s fair. Refusing to answer questions, or refusing meetings with editorial boards or throwing immature temper tantrums? Not OK and not fair. It's poorly done political theater at its worst.

Welcome to the new reality of the conservative snowflake, melting in the heat of rather lukewarm questions.

Well you know that they say about heat that you can’t stand. I hope voters help these Republican snowflakes get out of the kitchen of government.

Iowa is Just Full of Sweethearts

New York Times image of candidates at CNN Des Moines debate, seen on Star Tribune web site, www.starttribune.com. By Jordan Gale, NYT.

CNN image of candidates, from CNN.com.

Drake University Image. My wife likes this sweetheart, Anderson Cooper.

Sarah Rosales sings National Anthem. CNN image (above) image posted on Facebook by Sarah Rosales (below).

Gratuitous product placement image for my youngest sister--Drake symbol at site of debate, Drake University image. I posted it because I'm such a sweetheart.

Did you catch the Iowa CNN debate this week? I was busily grading papers with the TV on in the background on Tuesday night, so I half did. I hope my grade comments to students still made some sense.

Part of my reaction to this week’s media circus in Des Moines is that Iowa is just full of sweethearts.

I thought my current candidate sweetheart, Sen. Amy Klobuchar-Minnesota, did fairly well. They couldn’t get her to shut up, which is a trait that I’m OK with. You tell them, Amy.

Drake University image posted on flickr (above). CNN images from Tuesday of Amy crowd (below).

Iowa’s other sweetheart, our own Gazette columnist Lyz Lenz, was on the Daily Show that night, and she did well, too. She’s right—1972 paperwork caused the Democrats to have an early caucus, which gave Sen. George McGovern a minor boost.

But the real start of the show was in the next election cycle when both Iowa parties then agreed to go early in 1976. Tired of the Iowa Caucuses? Blame George McGovern, but mostly blame Jimmy Carter.

Side note: I know he’s really old, and I don’t agree with everything he’s said and done, and he’s also a man—but you’re a sweetheart and we miss you, Jimmy Carter. I know, he’s still kicking, but he’s almost as old as Bernie Sanders (not a sweetheart, but a fun guy). Hell, I even sometimes miss Georgie senior and junior. You guys were all sweethearts compared to The Don. I mean, at least in comparison.

Sarah Rosales-Des Moines Regiser.

Then there was Sarah Rosales, a Drake University student who belted out the National Anthem Tuesday night. What a sweetheart voice.

I wasn’t sure Elizabeth Warren was such a sweetheart Tuesday night. I was a bit miffed at the sideshow with Bernie—not because it would have been OK had he said a woman could not win, but because Elizabeth has been sometimes stuck for too long in side issues before that don’t go anywhere. DNA, anyone?

Anyway, the cast for this particular play was smaller, which maybe made it a bit duller. I hate to say I missed Marianne—because she was definitely not a sweetheart, she scared me—and I’m OK that Tulsi wasn’t there (not a sweetheart, either). But whenever Marianne talked, I felt like I was guilty of something, and I don’t even know what.

She and Tulsi did make a show livelier. Most of all, it's too bad Julian and Kamela are gone, they could speak and spice things up. Cory, I hardly knew you, but I miss you too.

Anyway, sexism is alive and well in American media. And on blogs. It’s probably not OK for a man to call a bunch of women he does not know personally “sweetheart.” That’s a pretty personal name, and I really only have one sweetheart. And I don’t mean Tessa Violet or even those British sweethearts in Big Moon who are my current musical fixations (along with Sarah, of course)—Audrey, you’re my one and only sweetie.

Lyz issues a reminder on Twitter. Apologies.

So, apologies to all. Iowa is full of sweethearts, but they aren’t all my sweethearts.

At least I’ll caucus for one. Here’s looking at you, Amy. And I will continue to enjoy reading another. Keep on typing, Lyz.

And I’ll try to keep my heart pure. And sweet.

 And now, some sweetheart music:

This Film Not a Little Movie

Emma Watson as Meg March; Saoirse Ronan as Jo March; Florence Pugh as Amy March; and Eliza Scanlen as Beth March. Image from movie web site: www.littlewomen.movie, as are other images.

OK, it’s not an original play on words—the New York Times reviewer A.O. Scott, who loved it, used the same turn of phrase. But it works.

“Little Women” is a giant movie. I saw 98 percent of it (I was stuck in a long popcorn line for the first 2 minutes) Tuesday, and it was a great way to end the year. It’s also good in order to practice learning to type new words like “Saoirse Ronan.”

Count me, I guess as a serious Saoirse fan—I loved her in “Lady Bird,” and think she’s perfect as Josephine March, the main character of “Little Women.”

The March sisters.

And she was not alone. One of the joys of this movie is its ensemble cast. Anything that has both Meryl Streep and Laura Dern in it sounds like it could be pretty fantastic, and both shine in this film. At one point, Laura as the mother confesses to Jo that she is angry every day of her life—and we (even me, an old man) can viscerally feel why.

Sure, it’s a movie with a feminist sensibility. But it doesn’t bash men, instead it ruminates thoughtfully on what it means to be female—and not just how the “patriarchy” defines that term, but also how women view the concept. It’s Aunt March, after all, who advises Jo that “nobody makes their own way” and she should devote herself to marrying well.

Aunt March wasn’t wrong, in an important way. No man makes his own way, either—all people depend on each other, to some extent, but women in the 19th century faced particular issues, including marriage laws that made property a male domain. And yes, I know that although we have more advanced laws now, women still face many of the same enduring societal prejudices, which is part of what makes “Little Women” feel both contemporary and a historic drama.

More images from movie web site.

It’s also great to see young women being portrayed as people—having intelligence, moods, emotions, affections, hostilities, fights and reconciliations.

With the possible exception of Daddy March, who doesn’t do much but show up and stay placidly in the background, there are interesting male characters here, too. I spent part of the movie being slightly irritated at Chris Cooper—not because he doesn’t play the part of Mr. Laurence well—he, like most of the cast, seems to live the role. It’s that his voice was so familiar that I knew this actor without recognizing him in his 19th century whiskers.

Mr. Laurence gives the March girls Christmas food, and a piano for Beth, and we understand why and believe he would do it.

The movie has an interesting narrative form. Rather than follow a straight timeline, it moves back and forth, which helps connects early events to consequences later on. Yet, it was easy to follow—the plot was not all that convoluted. Lighting helps, of course, as later scenes are darker than the brighter scenes set earlier.

That narrative form totally worked. Frankly, all of the movie totally worked.

One sequence in the movie that I loved watching was seeing Jo March overlooking the printing of the first copies of her book—the setting of type, the pages on the press, cutting and trimming the parts of the books and gluing them to a red leather cover—for a media history teacher, it was a wonderful sequence.

And the writing itself was well represented, Jo wielding her fountain pen until her hand cramped and she had to switch to left-handed writing, laying out scenes and rearranging them. It is a reminder what a blessing modern word processing can be, although a shame we don’t always use our superior tools for such deft story telling. It’s also a reminder of the level of commitment and thought that any writing demands if it is to be done well.

I don’t know for sure if I’ll go see “Little Women” again in the theater, although if the opportunity came up and someone wanted to go, I would be so there for them. I’m sure later this year when it becomes available in DVD, I’ll be buying it and watching it over and over.

It’s that kind of movie. As Scott says, it was not a little movie at all. It was grand.

The Key Word: ‘Impeached’

How my local paper reported the news.

The Poynter Institute had as an interesting page that shows a few front pages from the impeachment of Donald Trump and Bill Clinton, two of the only three U.S. presidents to be impeached.

I know Donald J. Trump, despite being manifestly unfit for office and clearly guilty of all kind of impeachable shenanigans, is pretty much assured of acquittal by the Senate. Still, he is forever an impeached president.

It was kind of interesting reading Facebook comments on The Gazette’s image of their front page from Thursday, covering the news. Several comments were along the lines of “he hasn’t been impeached” and “fake news.”

Because he will win in the Senate. But, legal eagles, impeached means “charged,” and the Senate merely renders a verdict on whether to remove the President. Because the House has voted, he has been impeached.

And that word “impeached” screamed from many front pages.

Anyway, downloaded from the Newseum web site, here are 25 front pages to mark the big event for this week in history:

And So Anna Becomes Queen

Disney publicity image downloaded from Variety web site. Anna wonders: What the heck is my odd older sister up to now?

Elsa has retired and moved north to live as some sort of ice demigod, the fifth elemental spirit in this tale with an ecological subtext.

The dam is bad. We need brute force (send in the brutes) to get rid of the damn thing.

I just saw “Frozen II,” and I was impressed. I think Disney was a bit taken aback by the success of the first movie in this franchise, and as always when such a story succeeds, there’s the question of where does it go from here?

And the central unresolved question of “Frozen” was: What the heck is Elsa? And that’s exactly the MacGuffin for this plot. Unless you consider four stones with rather bland logos for elemental forces to be four MacGuffins—or is mist a MacGuffin? Are we back to the dam?

Also, is it just me, or is Olaf the character Jar Jar Binks wanted to be but never was?



Whatever. I don’t think “Frozen II” will hit with the power of the first movie. I don’t expect to see YouTube videos of enthusiastic Marines reacting to the signature music video from this film. But there is a lot to like in this second installment.

While there is an environmental theme here, it’s not the main point of the movie. Anna and her journey to womanhood is really more what’s going on. Elsa is being lured down a different life path by a siren voice who turns out to be ghost mom who also sends ghost horse—but then Elsa dies and is reanimated, so maybe “Frozen II” is a reverse zombie apocalypse there the zombie saves the town and installs the sweet younger sister as the benign despot.

But I’m getting away from my point, if I had one. I’m like Olaf explaining the plot.

I liked this movie partly because it allowed its characters to evolve. That’s even a theme that Anna ruminates on, how even a satisfactory moment in time is really only a moment in time, and things inevitably change. Someone once observed that a happy ending always depends on ending the story at the right place, because in the long run, the characters are all dead.

Which is even used as a joke in “Frozen II.” It’s a rather smart movie, with lots to unpack.

Anyway, my actual favorite theme of the movie isn’t the one about how, as Olaf says, technology can save or destroy us, as interesting as that dam theme is. Nor is it about what Elsa is and how Anna gets to be all growed up. Instead, to me the main theme is Anna facing the likelihood of her best possible choice destroying the town that she loves and is princess of.

To have peace, it’s necessary to tear down that wall. In this case, the wall is holding a reservoir full of water, and doing the right thing means flooding Arendelle. Meanwhile, Olaf has apparently expired, her sister’s fate is unknown but not good given that her magic is ending and Anna is depressed, discouraged and alone.

And she repeats a line that comes up several times in “Frozen II.” What do you do when all is lost, your dreams are shattered and Hillary Clinton was not elected?

“Do the next right thing,” Anna mutters to herself.

That line really resonated, to me, and is the most important theme from “Frozen II.” It’s a message for our times. Indeed, a transcendent message for many times. That’s a pretty deep thought from younger sister in a sequel children’s movie with magic trolls and singing reindeer.

But it works, for me. I hope to remember those words and use them myself.

Go see “Frozen II.” You may find yourself wondering, as I did, whether a giant snowflake would really save the town—sure, the wave was diverted, but wouldn’t the waters rise anyway? That’s not really the point. Elsa’s magic always was a little edgy and improbable (she can create life and nobody seems concerned about whether Olaf has a soul?).

It’s a movie about the sidekick. It's a movie about Anna. And doing the right thing even when all seems lost. And that seems enough.