I’ve been thinking about anniversaries lately.

Scrolling through my past bits here, I (re-)discovered that my first post, on September 26, 2006, was about whether anyone had fact-checked Martha Rainville’s claim to have stood up to the Pentagon over body armor for National Guard troops being sent to Iraq.

That makes today my 6th anniversary (with 124 diaries) as a scribbler, observer, curmudgeon, hopeful cynic, and weary believer in democracy (if not always in all Democrats) on this site. It’s been … interesting. And I appreciate founder John Odum’s invitation to join the scrum.

In American media, where the practice of false equivalencies has been elevated to a kind of perverse political correctness,  one icon of children’s edutainment thinks our kids deserve to know the straight truth.

Back in the 1990’s, PBS’s Bill Nye the Science Guy, made science fun for our kids.  Remember Naked mole rats?

“They’re mole rats…and they’re naked!

Now, Bill Nye is taking on the grown-ups, challenging climate change deniers, and objecting to the Christian right’s encrouchment on science education.

Squaring-off against Creationists, Nye warns that replacing scientific facts with Christian lore in children’s education is not just a disservice to those children, but also a threat to America’s competitiveness in a world of increasingly sophisticated scientific knowledge.

“The Earth is not 6,000 or 10,000 years old,” Nye said in an interview with The Associated Press, citing scientists’ estimates that it is about 4.5 billion years old. “It’s not. And if that conflicts with your beliefs, I strongly feel you should question your beliefs.”

Not surprisingly, he’s getting a lot of grief from folks like the founders of the Creation Museum, whose stock in trade is flim-flam; but science and rational thought seem to have found a new champion.

( – promoted by Sue Prent)

Doug Hoffer will make a fantastic Auditor. He has run for the office before, so he’s a seasoned campaigner. He is running in a very blue state with a Presidential race drawing good “D” turn out. But insider consensus seems to suggest that his opponent is a better politician with better name recognition. I must say though, in my informal polling, political non-junkies say “who?”  to the names of both candidates for the office of State Auditor of Accounts. So to answer the “who” question, please watch this interview with Mr. Hoffer, especially if you are unfamiliar with the skills and values he will bring to the Auditor’s position.  

Doug will bring the will and know-how to improve transparency in the Auditor’s office. While we were discussing “Standing Watch,” Auditor Salmon’s webcast, Doug shared that such media outreach by the Auditor’s office could better serve Vermonters if it were on public access TV, and not just the Auditor’s website.  

He vowed to put the entire budget on line, including contracts entered into by state government.  Though Doug has progressive values, it soon becomes apparent that he has no patience for government programs that do not deliver their intended outcomes. He also sees that the Auditor’s office itself is in need of more frugal practices. He cited Auditor Salmon’s recently commissioned study on alternative revenue streams as an example of spending that does not deliver to the taxpayer. Taxpayer dollars went to The Bronner Group which tags itself as “The Business of Government,” but it is unclear whether any public benefit resulted.

Doug’s past work as a policy analyst gives strong sense of how a study can result in tangible benefits to Vermonters. The Job Gap study for the Peace and Justice Center provided momentum for the idea of livable wages in this state, and now we have policies like a minimum wage indexed to inflation and a strong earned income tax credit. This work is especially valuable given that States with higher minimum wages are faring better in this recession.

Likewise, The Leaky Bucket study looked at how dependence on imports drains our economy. Much of this work provided the intellectual foundation for initiatives like Vermont’s Farm to Plate specifically, and Vermont’s re-embracing of localism in the economy generally. He also tackled producing a Unified Economic Development Budget to demonstrate how we can best support producers in Vermont.

We also discussed Vermont’s single payer health care initiative as a huge undertaking that is fundamentally about the intersection of dollars and values. And finally we couldn’t help but talk about the actual campaign itself, such as the State Trooper overtime story. This story in particular highlights just how Doug will approach the Auditor’s job: by gathering all of the relevant facts, avoiding redundancy and grandstanding, and seeking solutions that are based on careful deliberation.

Doug’s campaign website

DONATE!

(When the going gets weird, Petey turns pro.   – promoted by kestrel9000)

(Wes Hamilton is RESPONSIBLE for this.  Yes, it’s his fault.  Find him and make him pay.  He posed the question on Facebook on how Hunter Thompson would cover Romney in a Fear & Loathing On The Campaign Trail style.

So, this is for him all you little Dems too [that means you, Sue].  This is how Romney and the Republicans should be covered, because, they truly have gotten hold of some very bad drugs.  And I think, as seriously as we have to take all this shit from them now, we must consider that perhaps the Corporate Reich has already put these drugs in our water.)

Romney Campaigns In Vermont

   by Raoul Duke

My Polish attorney and I found ourselves in a crowd of cheering Nazis.  I couldn’t believe these people were Vermonters.  Maybe they were bused in on the leaf tours.  A fucking conspiracy.  They looked like they would like to eat us if we had been dressed better.

“Find out the story quick!”  my attorney whispered, pointing with his cane in a not so subtle way.  “These fuckers are about to turn violent.  I’ll cover you with the .357.  Look at that big fat one next to you.  I’ll shoot him first.”



I pulled my attorney’s arm out from his coat pocket.  All he had in his hand was the blotter with four really good tabs of acid I had given him earlier to hold onto.  Now it was all crumpled and sucked dry.  “You dirty swine yuppie lawyer pig!”  I hissed at him.  “I wanted two of those.  You ate the whole fucking blotter?!”

“It’s because the metal in my bad foot made me eat it.  My foot is giving me very bad vibes now.  As your attorney, I advise you to get the info so I can get the hell out of here,”  he said.  “I think I just saw Hank Williams Jr. and John McClaughry frenching over there underneath the hanging tree.”

I turned to the big fat Nazi next to me.  “Can you tell us where the MITT 400 is supposed to start?  We’re here for SEVEN DAYS, to cover it.”



The big fat Nazi gave me a death look.  “What the fuck is the MITT 400 supposed to be?”  he asked, backing up a couple of steps.



“You know,” I said, “it’s that road race with all the SUVs carrying these big dogs in cages up on their roofs.  Some kind of heavy duty fundraiser, I heard.  Sponsored by some perfume lab out in California.  Or maybe it was the Hormel Company.”

The big fat Nazi took a step toward me.  “I don’t think that’s funny, chief,” he growled.  “And I don’t think you and your weird crippled friend belong here.”



My attorney raised his cane.  “You some kind of anti-Polish, anti-handicapped pig-fucking yahoo just out of prison!”  he screamed at the big fat Nazi.  “I didn’t come here to take shit from the SS!  I studied law at Nuremberg!  I’ll take your ass to court!  I’ll own your concentration camp in a week!  And your wife and your daughter and all your lottery tickets!”

The big fat Nazi backed out of there fast.  Going to find a State cop with a taser, no doubt.  I grabbed my attorney and spun him toward the exit signs.  “I can’t take you anywhere,” I muttered at him.  By now, a whole lot of Romney people were watching us.  I wondered how much tea they‘d already had.

“POWER TO THE BLACK PANTHER DOGS AND ALL THEIR LESBIAN TRAINERS!!!” my Polish attorney yelled as I pushed us out of the crowd and toward the Great White Volkswagon Van I had rented in Swanton for this gig.  From behind us I heard:  “Just a minute, sir.  Just a minute!”  I didn’t look back, but my attorney did and said:  “What the fuck now?  Do we have to pay a fee to get out of here?!”



This geeky 20-something kid came up to us holding out something in his hand.  I swear to God, he was wearing a pocket protector and a big button that said: ‘THE FORGOTTEN PERCENT’.  I reached for the pepper spray in my jacket.  “Sir, I think you dropped this,” he said, holding out the little vial of SMILES I had bought off the son of the Liberty Union candidate for Vermont High Bailiff last week at the Kale Vigil in Montpelier.  



“Thanks,” I said to the geeky kid.  “That’s my allergy medicine, kid.  I really need that.  Otherwise I break out in these big scabs that do blood splatter.  Thanks.”  And I grabbed the vial, and the kid took off like he had tickets for The Rapture.  

I got my attorney moving again and I nodded to the RAGING GRANNIES FOR OBAMA AND THE ABOLITION OF NUCLEAR WEAPONS protesting group as we crossed to the Great White Van.  I still had to find out where the MITT 400 was starting.  I had to write a thousand words and get pics of the dogs flying off the SUVs.  I had no fucking idea where we should go.  And I needed a drink.  Really bad.  All I had besides the SMILES was this crappy pot some fucker from Walden who said he was an activist overcharged me for.  In Vermont, EVERYBODY is a goddamn activist.  But Walden I know about.  Walden is where all the activist lepers live.  The crappy pot they grow helps them with their incontinence.



“Let’s go to Charlie Os,” I told my attorney, starting up the van.  “I need to think things through over three or four scotches.  Or martinis, or whatever.”

“As your attorney, I advise you to make that five or SIX scotches,” he answered.  “And you can buy me the same.  I’ll deduct it from your bill.  But, as always, I won’t put it on your invoice.  IRS will never know.  Nor the Catholic Church.  Drive like the wind.”

And that’s what I did.  It was turning out to be another one of those days in Vermont.  Mitt Romney being here didn’t mean shit.  In Vermont, on any given day, you can run into all kinds of weird ass stuff that would wind up in the NATIONAL ENQUIRER if they had a correspondent here.  Maybe they do.  Maybe that’s who it was at the Dowsers Convention in Danville asking around about whether it was true or not that the dowsers secretly fund the CIA because the dowsers make out in Vegas and for all the big sports events.  Could be.  Hell, in Vermont we’ve got everything but Voodoo.  I think.  Never mind.  Maybe what I should do is join one of those Support Groups and then run for office myself.

“What the fuck’s the matter with you?!”  my Polish attorney bleated.  “You’re all over the fucking road!”

“I was just thinking…”

“As your attorney, I advise you not to think.  That will become a felony offense next year, if that asshole whose fucking event you dragged me to gets elected.  I can do freedom of speech, but freedom of thought is going to be a bastard.  I may have to go back to school.  I’ll have to raise your rates.  Hand me the SMILES.”



“Oh no,” I told him.  “You’ve got enough acid in you now.  You do this SMILES shit and you’ll be a complete raving lunatic in Charlie Os.  Remember that time when that 70 year-old woman beat you at pool, and what you said to her?”

“She liked it,” my attorney replied.  “She used to be in the Tea Party, but now she works for Bernie Sanders.  I hear she writes all his speeches now.  But she cheats at pool.  He’ll have to watch out for her.  She’ll wind up getting him into a fight.  Maybe with knives.  Are we there yet?  Whoa, what the hell is this shit?!”



It was three leaf-peeper buses blocking State Street in Montpelier, and a whole lot of old people in the street and on the sidewalks.  They had these big tags on their backs that read: ‘BLIND BOWLERS FROM BAYONNE’.  I told you about Vermont.  And it wasn’t even three o’clock yet.

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.

The Republicans’ “hopeful” for Attorney General, Jack “Six Teats” McMullen, has finally hit the airwaves with his first TV ad.

(Since his fundraising performance has been too meager to support a significant TV buy, this apparently means that Jack has finally dipped into his very deep pockets and begun to underwrite his own campaign. After earlier insisting that he wouldn’t. Promises, promises.)

The ad serves to reintroduce McMullen to the voters of Vermont. It’s the kind of biographical message that you’d usually expect in the early stages of a race, not at the beginning of the homestretch. And especially not in a race against a tenured incumbent. But still, a decent effort.

But as I listened, something began to strike me oddly: The voice of the narrator.

First thing: it’s too aggressive in a chummy sort of way, like a salesman who stands just a little too close while delivering his pitch. Makes me just a bit uncomfortable.

And then, second and more subtle: The rhythms and cadences are just slightly off. By the end of the ad, I thought: “This sounds like a pre-recorded voice.” Like the Time Lady, or the automated 411 service.

I listened again, and the impression grew stronger. I don’t think this was a real live person reading the script; I think it was a cut-and-paste job using pre-recorded elements.

If true, astoundingly cheap for a statewide major-party candidacy.

I’ve got to hand it to John McClaughry, Vermont’s own free-market ideologue who will ever be known to your correspondent as El Jefe General. Ten years ago, at a convention devoted to spreading the glories of neo-libertarianism to Latin America, McClaughry infamously donned the caudillo equivalent of blackface — khakis, army boots, wide red sash, a chestful of medals, and a fake mustache — and addressed the assembly as El Jefe General Saturino Borhorquez, dictator of an imaginary banana republic who had decided to embrace free-market reforms. After, of course, taking power in a coup and locking his country’s former leaders in a bank vault. Because nothing fosters freedom like a dictatorial regime.

This address was dubbed “good satirical fun” in the conference summary, which is how conservatives usually explain outbreaks of borderline racism. (See: Rush Limbaugh, “entertainer.”) Imagine a similar performance at a conference on free-market ideology in Africa: McClaughry in loincloth and beads, portraying the Great Chief Ongabonga.

On second thought, best not to imagine it.

Well, turns out El Jefe General’s address was not only “good satirical fun,” it was also prophetic. Because the right-wing president of Honduras, Porfirio Lobo Sosa, is touting a deal with some American investors to set up an independent statelet with its own laws, regulations and tax structure. Free-market, of course; there would be no taxes on income, sales, or capital gains.

“Once we provide a sound legal system within which to do business, the whole job creation machine – the miracle of capitalism – will get going,” Michael Strong,  CEO of the MKG Group, which will build the city and set its laws, told FoxNews.com.

Yep, just like the American economy will perk up as soon as we release the Krak — er, the job creators from the triple shackles of taxation, regulation, and wealth redistribution. Never mind that we’ve been trying this since 1981 and it hasn’t worked yet; we just need to do MORE of what hasn’t worked. If we keep failing long and hard enough, we can’t help but succeed!

After the jump: a few storm clouds on this sunny horizon.

MKG will invest $15 million to begin building basic infrastructure for the first model city near Puerto Castilla on the Caribbean coast, said Juan Hernandez, president of the Honduran Congress.

… “First, we will build the critical infrastructure — roads, water, power, sewers,” Strong said. “In collaboration with the [Honduran] government, we will then create the city’s government system and the security, and 3 to 6 months after that we will build the first factories.”

The Fox News account, natch, puts a happy face on the proposal. The Guardian takes a more skeptical view.

Critics say it will allow a foreign elite to set up a low-tax, sympathetically regulated enclave where they can skirt labour standards and environmental rules.

“This would violate the rights of every citizen because it means the cession of part of our territory to a city that would have its own police, its own juridical power, and its own tax system,” said Sandra Marybel Sanchez, who joined a group of protesters who tried to lodge an appeal at the supreme court.

Ismael Moreno, a correspondent for the leftwing Nicaraguan magazine Envio, compared the charter cities to the banana enclaves, which were run on behalf of a foreign elite.

And if the ethics of this plan don’t bother you, he Guardian also raises some purely practical concerns:

…the initial investments seemed small compared to the scale of the ambition.

Yeah, $15 million doesn’t go very far when you’re talking about infrastructure, housing, and factories.

The plan appears to have been thrown together in the space of less than a year, partly to boost the economy and partly to make Honduras more attractive to foreign investors who fear crime (Honduras has the world’s highest murder rate) and political instability (Lobo was elected following a coup d’etat in 2009.)

Mmm, yes, mmm, rampant crime and political instability. Yeah, that’s where I want to invest my money!

This may well turn out to be another Fordlandia — an uber-capitalist dream that proves unworkable in the cold light of reality — but I must congratulate El Jefe General on his foresight, and apologize that I ever doubted the wisdom of the Big Black Fake Mustache.  

Oh well. H. Brooke “I am NOT a birther!” Paige has had his day in court, and has been swatted down in quite emphatic fashion.

Paige, losing candidate in the Republican primary for U.S. Senate, sought to remove President Obama from the Vermont ballot. Paige did not allege that Obama was foreign-born; rather, he promulgated an arcane interpretation of the phrase “natural born citizen” that would have required the President’s father to have been a citizen at the time of Obama’s birth, thus disqualifying Obama from the Presidency and rendering the last four years, oh, I don’t know, a figment of our collective imagination.

Well, Washington County Judge Robert Bent laid the wood to Paige* in dismissing the suit:

*Paywall warning: link is to the Freeploid.

The court has been presented with a radically insufficient basis on which to issue a temporary or even a preliminary injunction.

… The myriad versions of the claim that President Obama is ineligible for office because he is not a ‘natural born citizen’ have been litigated throughout the country exhaustively. They have never succeeded, usually on standing or jurisdictional bases.

Paige told the Freeploid that “he was undeterred by the decision,” whatever that means. (I’m sure he will enlighten us in the Comments below.)  

It has been said that donkeys are undeterred by a thwack upside the head with a 2×4.  

Can you feel the Brockmentum? Yep, Randy Brock is hitting the airwaves with three new TV ads, sure to light a fire under his so-far dormant campaign, and —

Wait, what’s that?

Oh. There’s a big fat typgraphical error in the middle of the first ad.

Wups. Those costly out-of-state consultants are really paying off.

The ad, which was posted online by Paul Heintz at Seven Days, features the Governor’s rendition of “Here Comes the Sun” with a series of captions underneath him listing all of Vermont’s alleged problems.

45TH IN BUSINESS FRIENDLINESS

4TH WORST STATE IN WHICH TO RETIRE

HIGHEST TAX RATE IN THE COUNTRY

OUR CHILDREN HAVING TO MOVE AWAY

and then, as Shumlin sings “It’s all right”…

IT’ ALRIGHT?

Yes, that’s I, T, apostrophe, and no S.

Jeebus. I could almost start to feel sorry for ol’ Randy.  

Addendum: The Brock ad has been written up by Seven Days, VTDigger, and the Vermont Press Bureau. Not one has mentioned the typo.

Did they all just miss it? Or is the Brock campaign so forlorn that the press corps has decided not to kick a man while he’s down?  

I don't ask for much, but this would be so nice.

Orly Taitz, when you're done in Kansas, please come to Vermont to help out in Paige v. State of Vermont.

(crossposted at Daily Kos.)

As the Mitt Romney campaign careens through a truly horrific week, featuring one self-inflicted wound after another followed by feeble attempts to explain or deny, sometimes both, the punditocracy has looked on in a state of despair (conservative), wonder (centrist), and amusement (liberal). Plus an undercurrent of surprise, that Mitt Romney has suddenly turned into a truly terrible candidate.

Well, I’m not surprised. When I look back at Romney’s political career, I see a consistently lousy candidate, capable of winning only when the circumstances are stacked overwhelmingly in his favor.

His first foray was 1994’s attempt to out-liberal Teddy Kennedy. Yep, Mitt’s masterstroke was to try to position himself to the left of the most famous liberal in the U.S. Senate. Didn’t go too well, and it left behind a barrel of embarrassing video that would forever after cement his reputation as a waffler with no real convictions.

His image as a canny pol derives entirely from his run as Governor of Massachusetts, a notable achievement for any Republican. But wait; his candidacy and Governorship coincide with the darkest hours of the Massachusetts Democratic Party, which was caught in a seemingly bottomless well of corruption, incompetence and cronyism. Plus, lest we forget, Romney didn’t take the office away from the Democrats — he succeeded three consecutive Republican Governors.

Mitt followed Republicans Bill Weld and Paul Cellucci*, two men who were given a lot of credit for electoral success in the bluest of states — but who, in the long run, were proven to be political ciphers. (Weld, you may recall, was thumped by John Kerry in a 1996 bid for U.S. Senate, and his brief pursuit of the New York governorship in 2006 was a complete disaster.)

*Plus the brief interim administration of Lt. Gov. Jane Swift, who took office when Cellucci left to become Ambassador to Canada, and who was shafted by the Massachusetts Repulicans in favor of the opportunistic Mittster.

Back to Mitt. His 2002 gubernatorial campaign was substantially underwritten by himself; he was responsible for more than $6 million of his total campaign kitty of less than $10 million. And he beat a weak Democxratic candidate by five percentage points.

He racked up some early success as Governor, most notably including the Health Care Reform He Dare Not Name. But as time went on, the charm of the Mittster wore thin; by the end of his term, his approval rating was pathetically low, and he left the state Republican Party in tatters. His designated successor, Lt. Gov. Kerry Healey (owner of the $3.9 million Vermont hideaway where Romney recently did some debate prep) was walloped by Democrat Deval Patrick by 20 percentage points.

And then, in 2008, he ran for President. He established himself as a serious contender by spending a boatload of his own money — $45 million in all, nearly half of his 2008 campaign total. Even so, he was outvoted in in Iowa by genial ultraconservative Mike Huckabee, and in New Hampshire by John McCain, a man greatly esteemed in Washington circles but who (like George H.W. Bush and Bob Dole before him) failed to warm the cockles of Republican hearts.

Huckabee got the cockles but not enough of them; Romney failed to out-cockle the cockle-free McCain, and lost the race for the nomination in spite of a substantial monetary advantage. Journalist Evan Thomas, looking back on the race, wrote that Romney “came off as a phony, even when he was perfectly sincere.”

Hmm. Sound familiar?

Romney’s second-place finish in 2008 gave him the early edge for 2012, which he tried to cement by spending basically the ensuing four years running for President. He failed. Throughout 2011 and early 2012, Romney was beset by an onslaught of truly uninspired and truly ridiculous candidates. Putative technocrats Jon Huntsman and Tim Pawlenty failed to generate any enthusiasm whatsoever, leaving Romney to face a clown-car of a field — Rick Perry, Ron Paul, Herman Cain, Michele Bachmann, Newt Gingrich, and Rick Santorum.

Every one of them was a complete joke of a candidate, and yet Romney consistently struggled to dispatch them. Republican operatives and political pundits constantly begged for someone — anyone — to enter the race: Chris Christie, Mitch Daniels, John Kasich, Jeb Bush, Bobby Jindal, Marco Rubio, etc., etc. They all stayed on the sidelines, as Mitt stumbled his way to victory over a bunch of tomato cans.

Throughout the spring and summer, as the economy continued to sputter, Mitt had plenty of time to make a case against President Obama. He couldn’t. The polls didn’t budge. Consistently, during primary season until now, Mitt Romney has shown a propensity for missteps, misstatements, and unconvincing rhetoric. And now his campaign has hit the rocks.

Color me unsurprised. This past week was of a piece with the rest of Mitt Romney’s political career. It’s just that now,he’s all by himself in the glare of the klieg lights, fully revealing his fundamental flaws for all to see.