The Audacity
	(Thu 21 Aug 2008, 18.51 PDT)     @ #

Pulp Khazâd    You know what you need?  You need to read this missing scene from the upcoming film adaptation of The Hobbit:

(Mon 31 Mar 2008, 19.50 PDT)     @ #

Dingy Memorial Fun    While my motivations for reading Twisty are more than partially masochistic, this is the funniest funeral parlor story I’ve ever heard.  (Thu 20 Mar 2008, 06.33 PDT)     @ #

The Audacity Of Cogency    I rarely listen to political speeches, and I never presume that my reactions to political rhetoric have any relation to the speaker’s wider perception by the public.  I read the text of Obama’s speech yesterday morning, and I watched it several hours later.  From the media/blog reactions to the speech (less than 24 hours later), it doesn’t seem to have changed anyone’s mind, but that’s only one way to evaluate rhetoric.  I doubt that polling people’s reactions would be any more illuminating.
   The content of the speech wasn’t dramatically different than anything I’ve heard or read from many similarly lucid people over the last 20 years.  Like many speeches by Obama and unlike those of his contemporaries, it treated a complex subject with the thoughtfulness and candor it deserves, keeping the audience engaged while indulging in very few soundbites or applause lines.  He tried to start a discussion rather than bring it to a conclusion.  Most of all, Obama expected his audience to rise to the level of the conversation instead of stooping to their baser emotions.  Therein lies the risk, more than just grasping the "third rail" of race, for if the last 40 years have demonstrated anything it is that Americans hate being reminded to do their homework.  (Wed 19 Mar 2008, 21.09 PDT)     @ #

The Party’s Over    Break out Asmodeus’s snowboard, because I find myself in agreement with Antonin Scalia.  The express purpose of I-872 was to destroy the parties’ ability to nominate candidates, and the majority opinion (written by Clarence Thomas) failed to find this unconstitutional.  It remains, however, violently anti-partisan, and will result in elections becoming even more expensive (for those interested in reducing the "demand side" of campaign financing).  It doesn’t even permit the parties to take my preferred option: nominating candidates via conventions.  If the state chooses to hold a primary for a given partisan office, failure to participate in the "top two" primary prevents a candidate from running in the general (bye bye, third parties).
   As an inertial Democrat in a massively Democratic county and a frequently Democratic state, I suppose I ought to find the prospect of restricting general election voters to two Democrats attractive.  But if anyone can call themselves a Democrat without consequence, then the parties’ identities will lose whatever meaning they have left, and DINOs will become the rule instead of the exception.  (Tue 18 Mar 2008, 19.03 PDT)     @ #

Die Verwandlung    There is, of course, no doubt about which genre of role-playing game we’ll start with...  (Sat 15 Mar 2008, 08.55 PDT)     @ #

So Long, And Thanks For All The Polyhedra    I’ve often said I hate going to funerals and memorials.  In my experience, most people don’t know what to say or how to act, but they nevertheless feel they have to say something.  Unless restricted to a very close family or a community with deeply shared beliefs about death, public expressions of grief cannot help but be awkward and maudlin.  Americans in particular have no script for funerals; ours is a youth culture, and the only American ways to die are in a car crash, from a drug overdose, or by an assassin’s bullet.
   The death of E. Gary Gygax last week at the age of 69 was rather, um, mundane for men of his generation: an incomplete recovery from an abdominal aneurysm and at least one heart attack.  He smoked and he drank and, if he was anything like most of the followers of the hobby he launched three decades ago, the only muscles he regularly exercised were those in his wrist.
   Probably owing to the large overlap between D&D players and computer enthusiasts, the online reaction to Gygax’s death was prolific.  The comment threads contained their fair share of banal sentiment and expressions of "loss," a "sad day," or simply "tears."  Of course, most such mourners had never met Gygax nor read anything he had written in years, and many had long since moved onto different game systems or stopped role-playing altogether.  For me and I imagine for many others of my age, Gygax’s death was not simply another occasion to reminisce about characters and campaigns past or to marvel at how far the influence of D&D nerd culture had spread, but also an opportunity to finally reject the ignominy we believed our adolescence had deserved.
   It was hardly surprising to see tributes to Gygax in the nerdier ghettos of the Internet.  What was gradually bewildering—and what transformed my wistful fondness into giddy relief—was the number of mainstream media outlets devoting voluminous and respectful space to Gygax and the impact of the D&D worldview.  Most thrilling were the many non-renunciatory admissions—by people of varying notoriety—of having played D&D at some point in their past, from the middlebrow to the kind of people Alex P. Keaton deified.  It was always known to my generation of players (late 70s and early 80s) that one could play D&D and go on to have a full life, but it was widely thought that one had to disown the hobby to do so.  Most of my crew role-played into and throughout college, but we learned not to advertise it.
   With the Triumph of Nerd Culture (most significantly, the rise of MMORPGs like EverQuest and World of Warcraft), I had an intellectual awareness that the younger generations of gamers didn’t carry the same social stigma that we had.  Stephen Colbert became my hero, not only for facing W at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, but also for going on Conan O’Brien and bragging about being a D&D nerd.  But until last week I still probably wouldn’t have admitted to new acquaintances how much of my teenage time and energy had been devoted to D&D and other (better but not cooler) games.
   The full extent of how much I had internalized this shame burst forth when I read this comment.  My son is an irrepressible performer and fantasist, yet in all his six years I had never even contemplated trying to introduce him to paper role-playing games.  Clearly, I had implicitly decided that playing D&D with one’s children was the social equivalent of Christian Scientists refusing to have their kids vaccinated.  I have since started to survey genres and systems, and I am already planning the precise stage of development to escalate from playing Make-Believe to filling out a character sheet.  It’s hard to qualify the weird mix of embarrassment, relief, and joy that has followed this revelation, and it was wholly occasioned by Gygax’s death and the public reactions thereto.
   In sum, for my generation the observance of Gygax’s passing has been less of a funeral and more of a coming out party.  While they have occurred primarily online, I have been humbly grateful for everyone who has publicly embraced their D&D pasts.  I gave my 20-year high school reunion a miss, but I would have certainly attended a local memorial service for Gygax, especially had someone convinced me that there would be girls.  (Thu 13 Mar 2008, 19.46 PDT)     @ #

Unbury Stephenson    While I wasn’t quite done with Neal Stephenson, I had resolved to be more circumspect in the future.  However, Boing Boing’s cred is still good with me, and a post last December pointed me to Interface, a collaboration between Stephenson and his uncle published (under the nom de plume "Stephen Bury") between Snow Crash and The Diamond Age.  A comment in the same thread also mentioned the other "Stephen Bury" book, The Cobweb, and I read both in rapid succession.
   Interface was the more ambitious of the two books, and it probably suffers thereby.  As it happened, my completion of the book coincided with Super Tuesday, and so I was perhaps more alert than I otherwise might have been to the demoralizing details of our primary "system."  The Cobweb (published in 1996) is much more specifically situated during the run-up to the first (or second) Gulf War and almost tries to be an understated version of Tom Clancy, but sardonically funnier.  Neither book is a dramatic departure from Stephenson’s style: neither provides a satisfactory ending, and both indulge in digressions designed to appeal to the Asperger set.
   Spoilerific comments can be found here.  (Fri 07 Mar 2008, 22.02 PST)     @ #

All Saturday’s Parties    Clearly, the unprecedently high turnout at the Washington Democratic Presidential Caucus on Saturday was due not to fervent opposition to the Republicans or to the stellar nature of the Democratic candidates but rather to the undetermined nature of the Democratic race on the day of the caucus.  If the delegates had been more unevenly distributed, I doubt even half of the participants would have attended.
   Four years ago in one of the bluest districts in the state, 24 voters showed up at my caucus to allot five delegates.  This Saturday, deep in the heart of Darkest Bellevue, 49 voters assembled to allot their five delegates.  I asked the PCO how it had been in her precinct 2004, and she said less than a dozen voters had turned out.
   Despite the overcrowding, the organizers ran a smoother operation, and the sign-in and tally went off in short order.  The initial tally:

	Obama	34
	Clinton	10
	Uncommitted	5

   The PCO invited each candidate’s caucus to put forward a speaker, and the Clinton camp was represented by an older woman wearing a Red Hat festooned with buttons and a T-shirt with a silkscreen of the SF Chronicle front page announcing Clinton’s husband’s 1992 electoral victory.  She spent her minute describing Clinton’s ostensible experience and connections with international leaders explicating the worthless cavils that Clinton issued when she voted to give Dubya a blank check.  A younger woman asked to speak for Obama and she, too, highlighted her candidate’s international perspective.  The voters found both of these testimonials somewhat inapposite and quickly focussed on how each candidate would fare against McCain.  The final tally:

	Obama	36
	Clinton	10
	Uncommitted	3

   Four delegates were allotted to Obama, one to Clinton.  Amusingly, of the Obama supporters who stayed that long, only three (including the PCO) stepped up; the roster was only filled out when the PCO warned that otherwise the missing delegate would go to Clinton, and Red Hat was still hovering.  Once again, I signed on as an alternate.
   Comfortingly, everyone I talked to said they would vote for the Democratic candidate in November, whomever that turns out to be.  It was almost like a party.  (Mon 11 Feb 2008, 21.41 PST)     @ #

So Say We All    The candidate whose positions most closely conformed to mine was John Edwards.  He correctly identified the corruptions of our corporatist government, made combatting inequality a centerpiece of his campaign, and was convincingly contrite about his early support for this maddeningly stupid war.  He was the best candidate in a delightfully strong field, and I was sad to see him drop out.
   I am previously on record as opposing casual participation in the candidate nomination process.  Nevertheless, "they set up the rules," so if the Washington State Democrats are gonna let a pleb like me participate in their caucus, I won’t surrender the field to others who don’t share my distaste.
   The differences between Obama and Clinton are slight when compared to anyone the Republicans would nominate, but they are there.  Most significantly, Clinton’s positions and voting record on the war and the expansion of executive power are dismaying, and the contrast with Obama is stark. As these are key issues for me, I support Obama for the Democratic nomination.  From her statements and actions, it is clear that Clinton’s only objection to the Iraq war is that Richard Holbrooke wasn’t in charge of it.  Furthermore, this was her opinion not only in 2002 but through 2008, as well.  This demonstrates that Clinton shares her husband’s (and her husband’s advisers’) conviction that foreign affairs are abstract concepts that don’t affect elections.  In short, Clinton has an ambitious domestic agenda and is willing to accommodate Republicans and neo-cons in order to enact that agenda, leaving messy international problems to the Best and the Brightest.  I am not, and I doubt Obama is, either (at least not to the degree Clinton is).
   And what of that domestic agenda?  Almost all Democrats agree that we have an historic opportunity for genuine health care reform, and I even think Clinton’s proposed plan (at present) is marginally better than Obama’s proposed plan (at present), but not so much as to outweigh other issues (and neither plan is as good as Edwards’s was).
   I don’t pretend to any proven ability to judge "electability," but I can say that when he speaks Obama is qualitatively more inspiring than Clinton.  Clinton may know her stuff, but when she speaks she’s preaching to the choir.  Of course, this is another reason why amateur demographers and pollsters like me shouldn’t have a voice in candidate nomination; we should be asked (in the general election) who we like, not who we guess other people would like.
   On Saturday, I’ll go to my first caucus in my new precinct, and I’ll let you know how it differed from four years ago.  (Thu 07 Feb 2008, 19.10 PST)     @ #

Stupid Tuesday    I don’t think people like me—who don’t donate money, time, or influence to a given political party—should have any say in how that party selects its nominees.  As the Supreme Court has repeatedly ruled, parties are private organizations whose freedom of association (and exclusion) are guaranteed by the First Amendment.  Letting non-members participate in primaries and caucuses prevents the parties from developing any coherent ideology and reduces them to large focus groups.
   Voting in general elections is a right guaranteed by the Constitution; helping a party select its nominee is a privilege subject to that party’s whims.  Quid pro quo, Sunshine.  (Thu 31 Jan 2008, 22.51 PST)     @ #

Two If By Sea    While repeatedly requesting and failing to receive Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix from Netflix, I had the opportunity this month to receive and view the entire Victory at Sea series.  I had listened to my father’s LPs of the soundtrack in my youth, but its decade of syndication had elapsed long before I started haunting late afternoon television.
   As a documentary, it had little impact out here at the beginning of the 21st century; much of the footage was already familiar to me, and the narration was breathy and pre-ironic.  The producers were limited to Anglo-American film library plus what they captured from the Axis; the sparse Soviet film contribution consisted mainly of an obviously-reconstructed depiction of the liberation of Sevastopol, complete with the gallant proletarian soldiers wearing full dress medals into battle with the Fascist horde.
   What was tremendously clear is how deeply the series informed a generation of Americans in their view of The Best War Ever.  The main theme, of course, was The Perils of Appeasement, as the British and French foolishly hesitated before throwing another generation into the meat grinder.  British fortitude and American industry get the most exposure; donnybrooks like Stalingrad and Kursk are only mentioned as showcases for Lend-Lease.  The nettlesome complications of collaboration under Axis occupation are given short shrift, as was the entire "China Incident."
   In the 1950s and 1960s, there wasn’t much room in the media landscape for an alternative to NBC, for a more nuanced perspective of the Second World War.  Consequently, the Baby Boom generation was ill-equipped for a decade of counter-insurgency in Indochina.  These days, with our proliferating media options, we would never be so hobbled.  (Mon 14 Jan 2008, 18.22 PST)     @ #

God Rest You    I’m certainly not the first to observe that Christmas, the Season of Peace, becomes decidedly more peaceful after December 25th.  It’s also obvious that this observation was hastened by my transition to parenthood, when Santa performance anxiety is felt most keenly.  But two days out, it seems more and more that this, the calm after the storm, is really what the holiday is about.
   I’m a de facto atheist; the pedant in me insists that I not claim to know for certain that all religious claims are false, but I also don’t begin to entertain the idea that my behavior should reflect this cavil.  Nevertheless, I often don pagan trappings if only because I recognize that seasons are important to people, and I like to mark their passage.  Agriculture has had its way with society for a long time, and only in the last century has the most technologically-sequestered fraction of humanity been freed from its seasonal cadence.  So of course now we fetishize the seasons and give them more weight than our great-grandparents did.
   I particularly enjoy the frenzy that slowly builds starting with the equinoxes and then abruptly stops upon reaching the solstices.  If sowing and reaping have been humanity’s eternal toil, the solstices—winter in particular—have been our blessed moments of repose.  (Thu 27 Dec 2007, 19.42 PST)     @ #

Dear Darcy    After having spent the past ten years residing in one of the most solidly Democratic districts in the state, I am pleased to be returning to the 8th at a time when you are running for U.S. Congress.  Although I expect to participate in my precinct's Democratic Party caucus, I am aware that your nomination is all but assured, a prospect that does not trouble me.  The choice between your candidacy and that of Congressman Reichert is simple and clear.
   Nevertheless, I have a question.  In the year since the return of Congress to Democratic control after the 2006 election, the failure of the Democratic Congressional leadership to roll back or even contain the excesses of Bush’s erosion of civil liberties at home and arrogation of unilateral war-making powers abroad has left us with the dismaying choice between concluding that either the Democrats are too feckless to fight for democracy or they are too cynical to take any political risks prior to the 2008 election (or, perhaps, ever).  That there appears to have been no appreciable change in the Democrats’ behavior as they shifted from the minority to the majority challenges one’s faith in representative democracy.
   The most recent and egregious example of this tendency was the revelation that Rep. Pelosi and other Democratic members of intelligence oversight committees were briefed on the CIA’s use of waterboarding in 2002 and did nothing to challenge it.  By accepting classified disclosures of illegal practices by the Bush Administration and failing to bring them to light is a dereliction of their Constitutional duty.  This is the political equivalent of regulatory capture.
   Should you be elected next November, you will be a freshman member of a likely Democratic majority caucus in the House, and there may well be a Democrat in the White House.  You will be a female representative in a swing district, and you will be highly dependent upon senior Democrats (and Republicans) for assistance with legislation and fund-raising.  Running as someone from "outside the Beltway" is a tired cliche, and political naïveté is overrated.  Nonetheless, if you would like my vote, I should like you to state, clearly and unambiguously, if you think our national security interests require our government to engage in increased wiretapping and surveillance of American citizens, waterboarding and "enhanced interrogation" of suspected terrorists, military tribunals for "enemy combatants," or pre-emptive unilateral executive war-making (including cover operations).  I would also like to know what you envision your putative Constitutional duty to be were you to discover our government engaging in any such activities.
   Thank you for your time.  (Wed 26 Dec 2007, 21.12 PST)     @ #

A Parade Of Horribles . . . And Santa!    Traditionally, a return to blogging requires no more justification than does the absence that preceded it.  In my case, many of the factors are also too banal to report.  Nevertheless, with the solstice approaching, I’m finding myself reflecting on my impatience with the political topics I feel I’m expected to address.  I’m tempted to skirt this by taking refuge in more cultural and academic commentary, but the frustration must find an outlet.  Quite simply, almost nothing on the American political scene has surprised me for the last six years*, and reviewing headlines for blogfodder inevitably results in concluding, in the manner of a mathematician, that they all "reduce to previously-solved equations."  This is beyond outrage fatigue.  This is the malaise that comes from watching thoughtful and observant writers debate who collaborated with the chickenhawks in 2002 or 2004 (or 2006!).  I understand that—in theory—we ought to identify those whose judgment is flawed so that we might properly discount their statements in the future, but when the author of Dow 36,000 is tapped to replace Karen Hughes in charge of the US’s public relations in the Middle East and Alberto Gonzales is named ABA Lawyer of the Year, "Wake me in 2009" loses a lot of its slacker stigma.
   The truly depressing effect of the totalizing warmongering by Bush and the right-wing noise machine has been the absolute narrowing of all political discourse, even on subjects unrelated to counter-terrorism and neo-imperialism.  I’m sure net-balkanization has contributed to this, but I often feel like everyone is spending their time and effort pacing off some kilometer-wide Plutonian moon when opportunities for more expansive and useful exploration are neglected.  That these developments have come at a time when I’m struggling with a resolve to become more articulate and engaged is both dismaying and seductive.  To paraphrase Teresa Nielsen Hayden, I deeply resent the way this administration makes me feel like an apathetic cynical burnout.  I have had impulses toward blogging certain cultural items, but I have let myself be thwarted by the musk of escapism and pretension that inevitably attach to such dilettantism.
   So while I can’t pretend that this latest return to productivity isn’t the result of anything more profound than the fitful completion of other personal chores, I have remembered why we started this blog in the autumn of 2002, and it was for more than just personal satisfaction.  2008 promises to be every bit as rancid and disappointing as the preceding six years, but I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart.  (Thu 13 Dec 2007, 20.14 PST)     @ #
* When pressed by an interlocutor for any significant political development that I couldn’t have straight-forwardly projected from 9/11, the best I could come up with was the election of the Governator (although I did manage a clever gag years before Davis’s recall).