A moment in time
December 23, 2010 | Words
You know how someone says something that’s simply perfect? Linda Lowen just did that in her post about Elizabeth Edwards, Saying Goodbye to Elizabeth Edwards and Remembering Dana.
Let me just say that some things were simply meant to just … be.
A summer day spent on a beach with two close female friends may be special in and of itself. But we’re unable to retain a sense of the magic of that individual day when we see it as just one of many in a long line of bright, beautiful, shining days ahead of us, the days hanging like pearls on a strand, the years dangling like multiple strands on a necklace. It’s only when we take that one pearl out of context and suspend it on its own chain that we see how rare, how lustrous, and how small a thing it is.
Beautiful. Thank you, Linda.
Posted by Becky @
6:00 am |
Books: Game Change
November 16, 2010 | Books
I just finished reading Game Change: Obama and the Clintons, McCain and Palin, and the Race of a Lifetime by John Heilemann and Mark Halperin. It’s part of TLC Book Tours November tour, and I received a review copy from the publisher, HarperCollins.
The book was written by two journalists to tell “the story behind the headlines” and give “an intimate portrait of the candidates and spouses” who vied in 2008 to occupy the White House.
I didn’t want to like this book.
I mean, c’mon. It’s gossipy and tawdry, and we’re supposed to close our eyes and believe in their “omniscient voice” (I’d go for “omnipresent,” but we could argue all day about big words) without one single, solitary note or reference. Really? On pages 265, 266 and 267, there’s an extensive conversation between Hillary Clinton and Mark Penn. It’s all in direct quotes, which is not possible unless someone recorded it. I suppose that’s possible. Did Clinton record all of her conversations and then share this one with the authors? (Do you know how much she loathes the media?) Did she allow Penn to record it and then share it? Umm, yeah. That gets a 10 on my BS-o-meter.
They made up words or checked the Urban Dictionary to sound cool: buckraking, ripshit, stovepiping (I’m betting they used the Wikipedia definition and not the Urban Dictionary one), big mo, hoovering, agita, grille, grassrootsy, mano a womano, politico-industrial complex, given the high hat, liked the cut of Palin’s jib, undercard.
They abused the thesaurus: omertà , Hobson’s choice, putative priapism, j’accuses, ab initio, Mobius strip, panjandrums, sturm und drang, parlous, Houdini juju, imprimatur, rictus, pulchritudinous, dysphoria, semiotician’s fantasia, primogeniture, apostasies, chimera, confrères, calumny, sword of Damocles, comity, savvy of a Metternich, logorrhea, hectoring, outré, chary, equipoise, claque. (If you have to look any of those up, the “sexy” ones? They’re all about Bill Clinton.)
And really? Going from ripshit to imprimatur in darn near the same breath was indicative of the often bipolar craziness of politicians and the campaign trail. So, I say — whether it was intentional or not — well done.
And, oh, could they turn a phrase and paint a picture with their words.
When explaining how narcissistic and out of control John Edwards was when he was desperately trying to make deals with Clinton and Obama: “Then again, Rielle Hunter was only eight months pregnant. So Edwards still had another month to strike a bargain.” (p. 204)
“McCain had gone from a campaign bleeding internally to spilling its entrails all over the carpet.” (p. 285)
“Instead of the Cadillac campaign that his advisers once had in mind, he was driving around in the political equivalent of a Ford Pinto — with a hamster wheel for an engine, and Rick Davis sprinting furiously on the thing to keep it spinning.” (p. 301)
“Making matters worse, the lengthy Democratic nomination fight meant that the Obama forces had operations in nearly every state, firing on all cylinders — whereas McCainworld was sputtering along forever on the verge of needing roadside assistance.” (p. 328)
“On September 10, McCain and Palin appeared together in Fairfax, Virginia, a few miles from the campaign’s headquarters. Fifteen thousand people swarmed into Van Dyke Park — little girls wearing ‘STRONG WOMEN VOTE MCCAIN-PALIN’ T-shirts, their mothers chanting, ‘Sarah! Sarah! Sarah!’ Later that afternoon, Palin would board a flight to Alaska for her interview with Gibson. At the moment, though, she stood there on stage, perched atop a pair of ruby-red heels, looking less like Eliza Doolitle than Dorothy: the girl swept up in the cyclone, lifted out of her black-and-white world and deposited in a Technicolor Oz. Obama and his people certainly felt as though a house had been dropped on their heads.” (p. 373)
Pulchritudinous, no?
I followed the presidential campaign closely. I watched the debates. I shared my concerns, of which I had so, very many. I got the whole politicians-as-celebrities thing, with them showing up on late-night talk shows and Saturday Night Live.
So there wasn’t a whole lot of surprises for me in this book. But it was an entertaining read. And there’s nothing better than an entertaining read. Because when it comes to politics, the more things change, the more they stay the same.
“We’ve come to the point where every four years this national fever rises up — this hunger for the Saviour, the White Knight, the Man on Horseback — and whoever wins becomes so immensely powerful, like Nixon is now, that when you vote for President today you’re talking about giving a man dictatorial power for four years. … It’s come to the point where you almost can’t run unless you can cause people to salivate and whip on each other with big sticks. You almost have to be a rock star to get the kind of fever you need to survive in American politics.” — Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail [‘]72.
Posted by Becky @
10:30 pm |