Liberal Media Elite

Here’s a weeks worth of webcam images from Grand Forks, ND. A little visual context for what folks are going through up there.

This might be right up your alley.

As opposed to being in Paris, you get a real sense in Washington just how decentralized this country is culturally, economically and (often) politically.

The World War II memorial is devoid of personality: it says nothing because it’s trying to say everything. It commemorates all the glory and none of the pain. The Greatest Generation believes its own hype and here it is in concrete-and-fountain glory.

The Vietnam memorial is perfect for the Baby Boom generation: everything reflects on the viewer, elevating an individual’s experience over the collective grief and regret. It’s a memorial for the people who were left behind; of course, that’s a general explanation for memorials’ existence. But the Vietnam one is just so damn shameless about being a mirror, pain as an exercise in vanity.

The Lincoln memorial, on the other hand, is extraordinary—mostly because if you’re standing at the top and looking down the steps, you see a cross-section of the United States (and the world, really) that you cannot see anywhere else. Every race, shape, class, kind of person is there—right there—and you’re really forced to stand outside of whatever bubble you live in, be it ethnic, sexual, political or economic. Fitting, really.

Americans who misbehave abroad are “ugly.” I have yet to find a suitable term for tourists who misbehave on our shores. “Fucking German dildo” comes close.

There should be tattoo and piercing parlors in airports. I’d totally be all over that shit to pass time.

I read about this in the paper a few days ago and it elicited an eyebrow raise. Mrs. Hockey Mom herself was scheduled to drop the ceremonial first puck at the Philadelphia Flyers home opener last night. Yeah, that went over well.

I haven’t heard more boos in a hockey rink since Claude Lemieux skulked back into Joe Louis Arena after Darren McCarty turned his face into some sort of ground meat product. (Seriously, click that link. Goalie Fight. Need I say more?)(Also, Matthew, sorry. Cloude had it coming.)

One, I would like to thank the fans of the Philadelphia Flyers. You guys rock. I still don’t regret winning that Cup at your expense
, but you have surely redeemed yourselves tonight.

Two, I want to take a minute to deconstruct this whole Palin-Hockey-Mom business. I know from Hockey Moms. I was raised by about 10 of them. I grew up watching the Detroit Red Wings. This was back when they sucked. Back when they hadn’t won a Stanley Cup in about 50 years (for the record, it’s been roughly 4 months since they last hoisted Lord Stanley’s Cup). But watching the Wings made me want to play hockey. So my parents signed me up with the local hockey association.

My team played for a couple of years at the city-run ice rink. We were about 6-8 years old. It wasn’t terribly skilled or thrilling hockey. Then the city ran out of money. To cut costs they shut down the ice arena. The thing is, in the couple of years that our team had been playing together, we had coalesced into a community. Us kids on the ice playing, and our parents at practices and games, all of us had come to really, really like coming together a few times a week for a common goal. (pun half-heartedly intended)

So the parents took action. Our parents took over the River Rouge Hockey Association, which, being poorly organized and managed, was the easy part. Then under the auspices of the the Hockey Association, leased the otherwise defunct arena from the city. They gave local teams (read:their kids) a preferred rate for ice-time, while offering more costly, yet cheaper than local going rate ice time to other clubs and teams. This was a viable business for more than a decade.

A good portion of my childhood was spent in that hockey rink. All of my friends spent their childhoods growing up in that rink, too. BJ’s mom ran the joint. Marcus’ dad was the janitor. Mark’s Mom ran the concession stand. My dad drove the Zamboni. And all of us kids were always running around the place causing trouble. Talk about it takes a village. That rink was my village.

Somehow, I lost track of the point I was trying to make. My people were not politically connected. They weren’t very Mavrickey. They didn’t have the ability to build a boondoggle of a new ice arena. . But a small group of people who cared deeply about their children took matters into their own hands to keep a service to the community available to everyone. What they created was more than just keeping an ice arena open for a few years. They really made an extended family.

That’s the kind of hockey moms (and dads) that are awesome.

As of Friday, this planet became a slightly less cool place to live.

(Those of you who know my last name should appreciate my particular state of mourning)

If you didn’t watch the RNC, 23/6 did it for you:

So I’m out on the road right now. Have been for about two months. Things have been quiet. I haven’t subjected our readership here to my screeds about saving fish and the necessity of dam removal or the evils of the proposed Pebble Mine.

What I have figured out is who I can’t stand. Connecticut Republicans. These are officially, after having traversed this country, the most repellant people I have ever met. These fucking people have everything: money, civil infrastructure, culture, and an economy that caters directly to their fucking ‘needs.’ And yet, AND YET, they are fucking fascists.

So here’s the situation: I wander into a bar. The Detroit Red Wings are in game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals. All I want in the world is to drink a beer in peace and watch Nick Lidstrom hoist 35 lbs. of hockey history etched in silver (otherwise known as Lord Stanley’s Cup) over his head. What I get is a screaming match by everyone at the bar about how Barack Obama is at best a socialist, and at worst the anti-christ. And I was fine with that. I didn’t want to talk politics. I just wanted to watch The Wings win the oldest trophy in professional sports. It wasn’t until the bartender, trying to dismiss the Junior Senator from Illinois asked who was the last president to (in his words) ‘unify the country.’ Given that to him the ‘Kennedy’ is a bad word, I went straight for FDR. Franklin Delano himself. I hadn’t said a word in this conversation until this point, as it was cutting into my enjoyment of the third period. So it’s in part that these idiots were harshing my Stanley Cup mellow, and in part that they were trashing on one Barry Obama, that I had to speak up. I wish I hadn’t.

Did I mention that these people are fascists? I kid you not, he defended HITLER over FDR. Something about how he brought his nation together and FDR nearly became a tyrant.

This was the most egregious example, but the two women at the bar basically gave a pocketbook defense of Republicanism. Yes, yes, you don’t like Bush, and absolutely you don’t like how the war turned out (didn’t stop you from re-electing Bush 2004, but, I won’t say I told you so) and, of course, OF COURSE, you’re socially liberal.(I mean, The Gays are very nice) But you just can’t vote for a Democat because they’ll raise taxes.

When the Revolution happens I’m coming to Connecticut, taking your Beamer for a joyride, pissing in the backseat, and laughing my ass all the way back to the newly formed Great Lakes Nation. Where good people live.

Joe Lieberman never made so much sense to me until just now.

Connecticut. Worst Blue State, EVER.

Dear Gavin,

Can’t resist the pie fight.

Matt Gonzales (photo above)—super-hot former San Francisco supervisor and candidate for mayor—has been picked by the Ralph Nader as his running mate.

This is so sad. I hate it when cute idealists make such horrible decisions.

Boo.

Thank the gods of hot liberals that there’s still Scott Kleeb: