RSN Fundraising Banner
FB Share
Email This Page
add comment
Politics
FOCUS | #HUNTED: How Social Media Helped This Attacker Find His Victim Print
Sunday, 05 October 2014 09:52

Gibbons writes: "At night, before closing up, a woman from the lighthouse gift shop came out to see if I needed anything and shared that the lighthouse was haunted-the old lighthouse keeper still stalks the shores. But I wasn't scared. I knew I would be the only person out there that night."

Jenn Gibbons. (photo: Marie Claire/Jenn Gibons)
Jenn Gibbons. (photo: Marie Claire/Jenn Gibons)


#HUNTED: How Social Media Helped This Attacker Find His Victim

By Jenn Gibbons, Marie Claire

05 October 14

 

When Jenn Gibbons embarked on an epic 1,500-mile journey around Lake Michigan—all of it documented on social media—she never imagined the danger that would follow her.

t was four years ago, over Christmas at my parents' home in Battle Creek, Michigan, when I broke the news to my family: I was quitting my job as a customer-service rep at Groupon so I could row the perimeter of Lake Michigan. I knew it sounded crazy as I said the words out loud. "I'm going to buy a $30,000 used boat. It's 1,500 miles and should take me about two months. Nobody's ever done this before."

The goal was to raise money for Recovery on Water (ROW), a nonprofit I'd started in 2007 to support breast cancer survivors. While I'd never had a personal or family connection to breast cancer, I'd become passionate about the healing powers of fitness, especially among breast cancer survivors, who, I'd learned, could reduce their cancer recurrence by as much as 50 percent with regular exercise. What was once a passion had become my mission. Needless to say, my parents thought I'd lost my mind, but they've always known me to be stubborn and determined, and there was no doubting my commitment. My mind was made up.

That January, I kicked off a grueling training schedule that had me up every day at 5 a.m. to row for a few hours. While I'd rowed crew in college, it couldn't rival the intensity of my training. Evenings were spent alternating between CrossFit and Bikram yoga. During the day, I worked on ROW, reaching out to potential donors—my goal was to raise $150,000—while also trying to generate publicity for my endeavor. I even managed to coach rowing on the side. My life became planning, fundraising, training, and working. Nothing else. But there was nowhere else I wanted to be than on the water.

Nearly a year later, I bought a used 19-foot fiberglass oceangoing rowboat already christened Liv, which means "protector" in Norwegian. It had a small mattress that ran the length of the boat's 7-foot-long sleeping cabin. There was no kitchen—just a portable stove. Aside from the bed, the cabin could be filled with navigational equipment and food, but not much else. For the next several months, I studied every inch of Liv. If anything broke on my trip, it would be up to me to fix it.

By June of 2012, I was finally ready. It was early morning in Chicago, and many of my friends and family came out to see me set off. Local news crews captured my departure from the marina as I made my way north that first day. Outfitted with a satellite phone, GPS, and laptop, I logged the details of my journey at least once a day on Facebook and on my blog. I posted everything from a funny video of me eating a Twizzler with no hands to pictures of me so exhausted and sunburned that I could barely lift the oars. I called my parents once a week, and like everyone else, they could track my whereabouts at any given point and post encouraging messages.

The first really bad storm struck five days in, while I was on the west side of Lake Michigan, rowing toward Racine, Wisconsin. As the 10-foot swells tossed me, I released the anchor to steady Liv. I had to remain alert, lest my little rowboat crash into a bigger vessel. It was a steamy 90 degrees inside the cabin—opening the windows wasn't an option; the boat might take on too much rainwater and capsize. For eight hours, the waves threw me around, and in the suffocating, watertight cabin, surrounded by my own vomit, I could hardly breathe. But I powered through until calm returned the next morning, and I gradually paddled to shore. Liv had protected me. I finally felt like I could trust her.

Being on my own on the water felt incredible. I was accountable only to myself, my body, my goal. I never really got lonely or bored because there were so many things to be attentive to—the wind, the weather, the next crisis. About one month into my trip, I noticed storm clouds on the horizon and decided to dock early at Seul Choix Point Lighthouse, on a remote stretch of shoreline along Michigan's Upper Peninsula. The area was desolate and beautiful. The water was so clear you could see the bottom. At night, before closing up, a woman from the lighthouse gift shop came out to see if I needed anything and shared that the lighthouse was haunted—the old lighthouse keeper still stalks the shores. But I wasn't scared. I knew I would be the only person out there that night.

Rains poured the next day, forcing me to stay. That night I had a hard time dozing off because Liv kept slamming against the dock. I finally fell asleep at about 11 p.m. amid the smell of suntan lotion and bug spray. I woke up a couple of times and saw lights shining into the boat but didn't pay any attention to them. I'd remembered seeing a yellow Jeep pass by earlier in the day and figured it was a curious local.

At about 2 a.m., I awoke to the sound of the boat rocking against the dock. At first I thought it was a gust of wind, but when I looked out the window, I saw a man climbing aboard. I ran to the handles to close the door, but he was already forcing it open. All I could do was back up to the farthest wall at the other end of the cabin. The lights were off, with the only illumination coming from the strobe of the nearby lighthouse making its way around and around. It was a terrifying scene, me in the dark, catching glimpses of the man's face every time the light flashed in our direction. He wasn't big, maybe a little bigger than me. White. Probably in his 30s. Short hair. Grayish-green shirt, jean shorts, and tennis shoes.

"Take off your shorts," he demanded.

"No," I murmured.

"TAKE OFF YOUR SHORTS!" he shouted.

Maybe if he knew I was raising money for breast cancer survivors, he would leave me alone. "I don't think you know who I am! I don't think you realize who you are doing this to!" I yelled.

In a calm, matter-of-fact voice, he said, "Jenn, I know who you are and I knew where to find you."

He stripped off my black bike shorts and pinned down my arms. I squirmed like a trapped animal. I begged him to stop, but he kept going. But even before he could penetrate me, he ejaculated all over my body. It was disgusting. He was like a 15-year-old who came too fast. He just couldn't control himself—he was so excited. Traumatized, I vomited on him. And with that, he released my arms, and I started screaming hysterically. I hurled him off me, pulled up my shorts, and raced off the boat and up the dock to a nearby outhouse. He ran after me, and when he swung open the door to the outhouse, I shoved him into a mirror on the wall, which fell on top of him and shattered. Screaming all the while, I punched him maybe six times in the face until I got him outside; then I slammed the door shut, closed the latch, and pressed my body against the door. I was barefoot, clutching a shard of glass in that hot, stinking outhouse. I remember thinking, Get back to the boat! Get to the phone! But I was scared he was still out there. I waited for a while—it could have been 10 minutes or an hour, I don't even know—and then, slowly, quietly, I opened the door and bolted. I ran to my boat as fast as I could, climbed inside, and locked the door. I grabbed my phone to dial 911, then hesitated. It was nearly 3 a.m. On any other morning, I'd be up by 5 to begin rowing. If I called the police now, what would happen? Would my journey end here? I wrestled with the question for nearly 30 minutes before finally placing the call.

I felt like a zombie telling the female police officer what had happened. She drove me to the nearest hospital, in a small town called Manistique. I could sense this was probably the only rape kit the young doctor in this far-flung place had ever performed. He nervously explained that they'd have to swab my body—my vagina, my butt—so they could get DNA. It was humiliating and dehumanizing. I couldn't go to the bathroom until it was over, and no one could even comfort me because I was, in effect, a piece of evidence.

My parents drove seven hours through the night and arrived at the hospital the next morning. We all checked in to a local hotel, where we stayed for the next few days as the police conducted their investigation. That first night I must have taken seven showers—nothing could make me feel clean.

I told the police what the attacker had told me, that he knew my name and where to find me. How could he have known I was in such a remote spot unless he was following me? And how could he have been following me unless he was monitoring my movements online? My boat had a tracking device to pinpoint my exact location at any given moment. When the police told me that sexual assaults in the area were rare, I became convinced that my attacker had found me through social media.

Though I was frightened and devastated, in the days that followed I longed to return to the water. I had no intention of giving up. After consulting with the police, we agreed that I'd continue by bike, followed by state troopers. Once I'd reached a safe point where marine police could follow me on the water, I would resume rowing.

Naturally, my parents were upset. "You don't have to do this! You can come home, it's OK, you've done enough," my mom pleaded. My closest friends urged me to quit. They wanted nothing more than to keep me safe. But I was adamant—and angry that someone had tried to interfere with my mission. Though I was undoubtedly still in shock, I knew I needed to exorcise my demons by rowing. I thought about all the women I'd met over the years, how they rowed through chemo and radiation, how they found the strength to go on despite being physically and emotionally shattered. I finally understood their courage and will, and like them, I believed exercise would heal me.

Four days after my assault, in the driving rain and trailed by police, I set out on a bike. My ribs, knees, and arms were covered in bruises, from both the rowing and the attack. I wept for most of that first day. Though I continued logging the details of my journey, at the suggestion of the police I carefully avoided references to where I was.

I finally returned to my boat, but I never slept on it again. I'd lost all trust in Liv as my "protector." So after a day of rowing, I'd pull into harbor and make my way to a nearby motel. It went on like this until I reached the point from where I'd started, the Chicago harbor, 59 days and 1,500 miles later. I sobbed as I rowed into the marina. It was a beautiful day, and so many familiar faces greeted me. I climbed out of the boat and fell into their arms. It felt so good to be home.

Though my rape kit proved inconclusive, I'm still comforted by the fact that my story is out there and may lead to my attacker's arrest down the road. It wasn't easy returning to a normal life at home. I experienced anxiety about routine things, like walking to my car alone. At first, I didn't talk to a therapist—though my family and friends encouraged me to—because I thought I'd just deal with it and move on. But it didn't quite work out that way. I suffered flashbacks, and while I knew deep down the attack wasn't my fault, I still felt guilty about things I could have done differently that night, like locking the door to the boat or fighting him off more forcefully.

Eventually I sought treatment and was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. Therapy has helped a lot. I've come to realize that sharing is the only way to heal. You aren't made stronger by keeping your trauma a secret or protecting someone who hurt you. I am now in a wonderful, healthy relationship with a supportive and patient man. But it took a lot of time and hard work to get to this place.

Every day, I am making the most of what good and bad have come to me in life. I've learned that when I think about my trip, it's tempting to get angry and ask why bad things like cancer or sexual assault happen to good people. But by focusing on the good instead, by being patient with myself when setbacks arise, I have found peace and a whole lot of happiness.

My wish is that when people think about my journey, they remember it the way I do: that I did something no one had ever done before—I rowed a small boat around a pretty big lake for an amazing group of women, and nobody, absolutely nobody, could stop me.


e-max.it: your social media marketing partner
 
Ayn Rand's Continued Influence Adds a Bizarre Twist to Conservative Politics Print
Saturday, 04 October 2014 13:00

McMurry writes: "On Last Week Tonight, perhaps to balance out his less-than-friendly main segment on Obama's drone policies, John Oliver asked a question that has bothered people about Ayn Rand since she first emerged in the middle of the twentieth century: why are people into this dreck?"

Ayn Rand's influence spans 60 years, with Alan Greenspan, Ronald Reagan, Senator Ron Johnson and Congressman Paul Ryan among her notable acolytes and devotees. (photo: Barnes & Noble Review)
Ayn Rand's influence spans 60 years, with Alan Greenspan, Ronald Reagan, Senator Ron Johnson and Congressman Paul Ryan among her notable acolytes and devotees. (photo: Barnes & Noble Review)


Ayn Rand's Continued Influence Adds a Bizarre Twist to Conservative Politics

By Evan McMurry, AlterNet

04 October 14

 

Despite her clearly psychopathic theories and actions, she is still celebrated by leading right-wingers.

n Last Week Tonight, perhaps to balance out his less-than-friendly main segment on Obama’s drone policies, John Oliver asked a question that has bothered people about Ayn Rand since she first emerged in the middle of the twentieth century: why are people into this dreck?

Rand was the founder of Objectivism, a sub-Nietzschean philosophy that glorified selfishness and denigrated altruism, aggressively detailed in two novels bearing both the weight and prose style of a cement brick. Not surprisingly, this organized atavism never gained serious purchase: during her lifetime she was rejected by everyone from literary critics to philosophy professors to Frank Lloyd Wright, who didn’t appreciate her cribbing protagonist Howard Roark from his biography.

But her views achieved both outsider chic during the rise of the Great Society and some establishment cred when Alan Greenspan smuggled them into economic policy. Her tomes were bestsellers. And, in a vulgarized form Rand would almost certainly reject, they have spread even further since her death in 1982. Lawmakers cite her; celebrities namedrop her; fringe movements style themselves her heirs; scores of Twitter users swipe her visage as their avatar. A film adaptation of Atlas Shrugged lasted three installments (and outlasted its budget). There’s even going to be an off-Broadway musical this fall.

Rand’s political and pop cultural cache has risen even as her ideas fail basic empirical challenges. The 2008 financial collapse, an historic repudiation of rational self-interest on a systemic level, forced even Greenspan, a former friend of Rand and lifetime devotee of her philosophy, to admit a foundational flaw in his free market ideology. Yet Atlas Shrugged continues to sell. Oliver’s question deserves to be taken seriously: what’s to account for Rand’s unlikely and long-lasting cultural influence?

Paul Ryan and the Defense of Elitism

Almost seventy years after she first became involved in the American political process, Rand has finally made it into the halls of power. She has the extreme right wing to thank. Representatives Steve King (R-IA), Mike Mulvaney (R-SC) and former Rep. Allen West (R-FL) all tout her. Senator Ted Cruz (R-TX) pitched her book on the Senate floor. Senator Rand Paul (R-KY) claims he’s not named after her; nobody believes him.

But House Ways and Means Chairman Paul Ryan (R-WI), who requires staffers to read Atlas Shrugged, has labored the hardest to legitimize Rand. The wonk-whisperer’s specific brand of Rand devotion suggests that her true lasting power is seen not in the portable axioms about freedom and tyranny parroted by tea partiers but in Ryan’s more nuanced strategy to preserve the conservative elite.

Since Edmund Burke conservatism has been the defense of the distressed elite disguised as populism. Rand was a perfect iteration of this. Born into wealth in St. Petersburg, she formed an early sense of disenfranchisement when her father’s chemistry shop was seized by the Soviets and her family was plunked into the proletariat. As Burke cried for Marie Antionette, so Rand burned over her lost privilege for her entire life, reading her personal expulsion into a society-large injustice orchestrated by a succession of mobs. Burke had the Jacobins; Rand had the Democrats. The philosophy she forged was a counterattack on behalf of an aristocracy she thought threatened, first by Lenin, later by LBJ.

Ryan, a conservative technocrat who sees budgets as vehicles for social reengineering, fits this Burke-via-Rand mold impeccably. His Ancien Régimeis America’s 1%. Armed with charts and graphs, Ryan declares that the job creators must be protected from a metastasizing federal government taxing them into oblivion to fund a decadent welfare state. (Rand called the latter second-handers.) His massive upward redistribution of wealth is portrayed as a rational rescue of the producer class, the engines that selflessly generate the economy for the rest of us. It’s the encapsulation of Rand’s central ideal of economic activity as morality, one that anoints the moneyed elite as not only deserving but Good.

But when Ryan was selected as Mitt Romney’s running mate he discovered just how difficult it was to pull this bait-and-switch on an entire nation, especially when Romney’s infamous 47% remarks too baldly expressed Rand’s anti-mob fever. Sure enough, Ryan crabwalked away from his former idol, carefully severing himself from her philosophy—though not, pointedly, her ideas. (That’s his story, anyway.)

It didn’t take; voters rejected Ryan’s plan to salvage the 1% from the claws of the state. But even as the intensity of Rand’s followers hasn’t translated into widespread appreciation Ryan continues to tote her elite philosophy to the Capitol, where the defense of the wealthy is an ever-present crisis.

Start-ups and People as Corporations

None should be surprised that Wall Street investors seized upon Rand’s muscular view of capitalism as a sort of intellectual codex to Gordon Gecko-ism. Rand fetishized greed, né self-interest, as not only a beneficent aspect of human nature but a catalyzing moral force. If you weren’t reading carefully—and accounts of the derivative markets and bank leveraging suggests nobody was doing anything carefully—you could easily take from Rand’s works a near-religious imperative to grab as much money as possible without regard to consequences.

But Rand resonated even more deeply among a different style of businessmen. Oliver’s show chose early dot-com mogul Marc Cuban as the modern Randian; counted with him are tech figures and venture capitalists like PayPal founder Peter Thiel, Uber founder Travis Kalanick, Union Square Ventures’ Fred Wilson, Foundry Group’s Brad Feld, and more.

Start-up figures wear their libertarianism like their hoodies, but there’s a reason they hat-tip Rand above anybody. Here Jennifer Burns’ biography Goddess of the Market is instructive in its reading of Atlas Shrugged. Burns distinguished in Rand’s view the capitalist—who could be as bland a conformist as could a Bolshevik—from the entrepreneur, who was creativity incarnate. Never an economist, Rand developed instead a metaphysical theory of capitalism in which industry became the incorporated expression of the individual will. Objectivism was less about the rational distribution of resources or allocation of profits than it was a vision of how the economy and the human will realized each other.

The belief that entrepreneurs are a fusion of personal and economic invention is not an idea exclusive to Rand, though she certainly invoked Edison and the Wright brothers as examples of her self-made, and self-making, supermen; it was Rand’s elaboration of the corporation as a cathectic object, through which the energy of the individual is projected and embodied, that made it hers.

Lululemon founder Chip Wilson captured this process when he smacked a John Galt reference on one the company’s tote bags (to the horror of his customers). “Only later, looking back, did he realize the impact the book’s ideology had on his quest to elevate the world from mediocrity to greatness,” Wilson explained (in third person). “It is not coincidental that this is Lululemon’s company vision.”

Not coincidental at all: Rand and the ascendant brand of tech entrepreneurs don’t see corporations as people but a select echelon of people as creative energy literally incorporated. Corporations aren’t people; people are corporations. Rand was fond of quoting Aristotle’s rule of identity, A is A (something Corey Robin convincingly argues in The Reactionary Mind she misunderstood). So Chip Wilson’s values are Lululemon’s values and vice versa; it’s the real life enactment of Rand’s vision of personal morality as economic activity, the other side of the equation Ryan wants to promulgate politically.

Thanks to the Supreme Court, it’s also now a legal theory of corporate personhood that includes religious rights, showing just how far Rand’s theory of wealth as morality has spread.

Narcissism and the Rise of Self-Esteem

The least appreciated but perhaps farthest-reaching of Rand’s impacts was achieved through neither her philosophy nor her novels, but through her longtime lover, business partner, and protégé Nathaniel Branden.

Branden was an early convert to Objectivism, and by the time he ended his protracted affair with Rand he’d become the second most important member in the Collective, the cult-like cadre of followers who orbited Rand. Branden spearheaded a sort of mail-order Objectivist college, which sent taped lectures to budding Objectivists around the country, published poured-over newsletters, and constructed an entire alternate culture in New York City that promoted Objectivist values. More than anyone he was responsible for inflating Rand’s philosophy into a movement, albeit a restricted and insular one.

Branden was never Rand’s visionary equal, but where he could only enunciate her ideas in philosophy, he was able to transform them in psychology. After his dramatic break up with Rand, which all but toppled the Collective and marked the end of her public life, Branden moved to California and developed the Objectivist idea that one should always act for oneself into the extraordinarily influential theory of self-esteem.

As Rand found “living for others” to be the fundamental weakness of the modern condition, one that gave rise to both decadence and totalitarianism, so Branden theorized that living for others created pathologies of unfulfilled self-conceptions. Branden retained pillars of Objectivism, such as self-awareness via rationality and an immediacy between conviction and actions, but changed the goal from metaphysical triumph to personal happiness.

Like his former teacher’s novels, Branden’s book The Psychology of Self-Esteem was a runaway bestseller. Here Objectivism’s permanent exclusion from the academy not only helped Branden’s book sell to a wide lay audience but propelled the idea of self-esteem into the mainstream consciousness, from which it’s never left. (Though it’s been definitively rebutted.) Self-esteem is now so enmeshed in American culture that its Randian origins are entirely forgotten.

Oliver featured a clip from a snotty reality show as a vulgar example of Rand’s “virtue of selfishness,” but it was more an example of her views filtered through Branden’s psychological conception and several decades of American consumerism. Rand viewed economic activity as morality, which (theoretically at least) entailed the creative energies of the producer. But Branden raided Rand’s theory and distributed the cause of individual fulfillment to the second-handers. Where Rand praised Howard Roark as the rare hero, Branden allowed everyone be their own Howard Roark.

Rand, ever the elitist, would have loathed such a popular end. If she were alive today, she might, like Oliver, wonder about why everyone was so into her.

e-max.it: your social media marketing partner
 
Killing Americans on the White House Lawn Is Wrong Print
Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=29790"><span class="small">Peter Maass, The Intercept</span></a>   
Saturday, 04 October 2014 12:55

Maass writes: "America's forever war has come to this -- the front lawn of the White House may become a kill zone. That's crazier than whatever prompted Iraq war veteran Omar J. Gonzalez to jump the fence on Pennsylvania Avenue two weeks ago, running for the Oval Office."

Secret Service study from 1990s found White House vulnerable to fence-jumpers. (photo: AP)
Secret Service study from 1990s found White House vulnerable to fence-jumpers. (photo: AP)


Killing Americans on the White House Lawn Is Wrong

By Peter Maass, The Intercept

04 October 14

 

merica’s forever war has come to this — the front lawn of the White House may become a kill zone. That’s crazier than whatever prompted Iraq war veteran Omar J. Gonzalez to jump the fence on Pennsylvania Avenue two weeks ago, running for the Oval Office.

The Secret Service has not announced what will happen to the next homeless person with PTSD who rushes the White  House, but the Outrage Machine is demanding blood. Rep. Jason Chaffetz, the Republican who sits on a committee that is investigating the September breach, warned at a hearing this week, “You make a run and a dash at the White House, we’re going to take you down. I want overwhelming force.” In the same vein, Ronald Kessler wrote in Politico Magazine that the Secret Service should have tried to “take out” Gonzalez.

We shouldn’t be surprised by the over-reaction. There have been armored police vehicles and camo-clad officers with ballistic helmets and assault rifles on the streets of Ferguson and other places, so by the same logic, shouldn’t the guardians of the White House be visibly legion and have their fingers on the trigger, fully automatic? Welcome to the nation’s capital, hope you have a nice day, don’t make any quick movements, deadly force may be used, mental illness is no excuse. Invade, torture, drone, shoot — these are the four horsemen of the post-9/11 apocalypse.

Call me crazy, but I’m glad the Gonzalez saga ended with him being wrestled to the ground in the East Room rather than shot dead on the lawn outside it. Yes, there’s a happy medium we should strive toward — stopping intruders without deadly force before they get to the front door — and hopefully the Secret Service will find a way to make that happen, once it finds a new director. But there’s bloodlust in the air, it’s ugly, and the people who will suffer because of it include the weakest members of society—the mentally ill who do not get the medical attention they need from the government that should be their safety net, and who do stupid things like charging the White House, which gets them violent attention they don’t need.

When I reported in authoritarian states, including communist ones, I often saw the sort of hyper-vigilance over Dear Leader’s abode that our professional hotheads are asking for. If you lingered in front of one of Teodoro Obiang’s many mansions in Equatorial Guinea, you could be questioned or arrested; same goes for Vladimir Putin’s crib in Moscow. In other countries, just asking where a leader lives can get you in trouble (hello North Korea). And you can forget about strolling by 10 Downing Street — even it’s closed to the public. America has been different; our presidents did not live in fear, did not choose to surround themselves with hair-trigger force.

It shouldn’t be too much to ask for — let’s have a reasoned response to the Secret Service’s lapses. Nobody got killed. Remember, that’s a good thing.

e-max.it: your social media marketing partner
 
The End of Scott Walker Print
Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=23847"><span class="small">Joan Walsh, Salon</span></a>   
Saturday, 04 October 2014 12:48

Walsh writes: "Given Burke's lack of experience running for political office, you might expect her to stumble on the trail this week, but her message discipline and overall comfort with herself are strangely paying off. It may be that not being a career politician actually helps you endure the partisan scandal machine."

Mary Burke is running ahead of Scott Walker in many polls. (photo: AP)
Mary Burke is running ahead of Scott Walker in many polls. (photo: AP)


The End of Scott Walker

By Joan Walsh, Salon

04 October 14

 

Exclusive: Wisconsin's potential next governor Mary Burke tells Salon why the Tea Party agenda is on borrowed time

lmost a year into her unlikely run against Wisconsin Gov. Scott Walker, Mary Burke faced a tough week. Tied or slightly ahead in major polls since May, she fell a few points behind in the respected Marquette University survey released Wednesday. It’s not entirely surprising; the GOP scandal generator is working overtime. If you’re in Wisconsin, you’ve heard all the wild charges: She supposedly plagiarized her jobs plan, and denied seats to disabled and elderly Democrats at a Milwaukee rally. She even allegedly played a Chris Brown song.

Given Burke’s lack of experience running for political office, you might expect her to stumble on the trail this week, but her message discipline and overall comfort with herself are strangely paying off. It may be that not being a career politician actually helps you endure the partisan scandal machine. I watched her handle a barrage of reporters’ questions, many of them hostile, in Green Bay Tuesday afternoon, and marveled at her equanimity. It’s as though she can’t believe these are serious questions, so she’s not rattled by them. (You’ll find our full interview at the end of this article.)

But the same aplomb and poise that’s helped Burke avoid a meltdown this week can also look a little like detachment, and the question I have after spending six days in Wisconsin is whether she can heat up the Democratic base in a race that, for all her rhetoric about transcending partisan rancor in this bitterly divided state, will ultimately come down to turnout for both parties on Nov. 4.

Burke has stayed clear of the bitter Milwaukee vs. Wisconsin politics that Republicans here have perfected. Running against Mayor Tom Barrett in the 2012 recall, Walker actually ran an ad blaring “We don’t want Wisconsin to become like Milwaukee” — even though Walker was the Milwaukee County Executive before he became governor. But he represented suburban Milwaukee in its implacable campaign against the nearby city. Walker is both the product of the grim racial politics that have polarized Wisconsin, and its leading modern purveyor. He’s cut funding for mass transit and welfare programs, slashed the state’s Earned Income Tax Credit to 140,000 working poor families, and now he wants to drug test welfare recipients — after a top staffer was caught laughing at a joke comparing them to dogs.

As Robert Draper wrote this week in a GQ Walker profile: “He’s vaporized public-sector unions, forced women seeking abortions to submit to an ultrasound, and restricted early voting in ways that are sure to diminish Democratic turnout” while “dogged by a hazy but persistent waft of scandal that could engulf him at any moment.” Yet on the stump, Burke mostly sticks to hitting Walker on his broken promise to create 250,000 new jobs in his first term, ignoring both his ethics troubles and most of his far-right political posturing, his union busting and his dog-whistle politics.

Still, Burke’s best asset may be that when you Google her, the thumbnail bio on her landing page says simply “businesswoman.” She is not a veteran of the ugly partisan battling that has divided the state. She doesn’t pretend to be anything other than who she is. Yes, she’s a wealthy business owner who took off some time to snowboard. She’s also a philanthropist who gave her time and money to Madison’s Boys and Girls Club, and other groups working with low-income families in the state. She financed her own run for a Madison school board seat in 2012, her first elective office (she was commerce secretary under Gov. Jim Doyle). She is a moderate, business-minded Democrat who’s not pretending she’s Elizabeth Warren.

In our interview, Burke was relentlessly upbeat, on message, non-ideological. Her discipline isn’t robotic; she’s fully present even as she refuses to engage, for instance, in my questions about Walker’s racialized campaign history, her clear blue eyes locked with mine. She knows where I’m coming from, and she’s not going there with me. But Burke can also be blunt: She answers a question on paid family leave – it’s not a “priority” right now, she says, given that she’ll inherit a $1.8 billion budget deficit — knowing she’s not saying what I want to hear.

On the campaign trail, she delivers much the same pitch whether she’s talking to a mostly African-American crowd in Milwaukee or a group of almost all white retirees up in Green Bay: jobs, jobs and jobs, with a word or two about education. “Wisconsin is dead last among the 10 midwest states in private sector job creation,” I heard her say every time she talked to anyone.

Admirably, she doesn’t pander. The downside of her message discipline is that she may miss opportunities to connect with her constituencies more deeply and personally.

When she walks into Green Bay’s Kavarna Coffeehouse for our interview, its four female staffers rush out from behind the counter for a photo. “I’m going to cry!” one says, as press aide Hilary Cronon gets the group shot. (To be fair, the two young men working there later came out for hugs.) If she wins, she’ll be Wisconsin’s first female governor, but it’s not something she plays up a lot, even though – or maybe because – polls show a wide gender gap in the race, with women backing Burke 54 to 40 over Walker, while men favor the incumbent 62-34 percent in the last Marquette poll.

“It’s hard for me to see myself as a great trailblazer,” she tells me when we sit down.

But Walker is quite comfortable touting his edge with male voters. “I think the bigger trend is not if I have a gender question, it’s actually that she’s off the chart from where a Democrat normally is, gender-wise, with male voters as opposed to female,” Walker told reporters Wednesday with his trademark awkward syntax.

The latest Marquette poll found that the Republican took the lead because he consolidated his support among men and with rural and suburban voters since August, while Burke hadn’t made comparable gains with her base. In fact, she even lost a little ground with women. But campaigns by Emily’s List and Planned Parenthood are designed to turn that around. “Scott Walker has proven that he’s only focused on advancing his extreme agenda and his own political profile, especially at the expense of Wisconsin women,” Emily’s List’s Stephanie Schriock tells me in an email. The group will spend $1.2 million on ads for Burke in the month to come.

Still, national Democrats could learn from this relative neophyte’s toughness: Facing a faux-scandal over BuzzFeed’s revelation that a Burke campaign consultant recycled some of his own work for other Democrats into her jobs plan, Burke is unbowed. She fired the consultant and plowed ahead. She doesn’t even seem to understand the game of “gotcha” reporters are playing, as they ask her to produce one original idea in her plan. She serenely answers, again and again: “It’s all based on my own business experience. And yes, I’ve borrowed ideas from other states.”

Undeterred, the Walker campaign has a stark ad running in regular rotation: “Mary Burke plagiarized her jobs plan. Wisconsin deserves better.” This week she released her own ad where she calmly faces the camera and hits back:

In August, Wisconsin lost 4300 jobs. That’s why in September, Scott Walker is attacking my jobs plan, saying it takes ideas from other states. Well of course it does. As Governor, I’m going to take the best ideas wherever I can find them. And if Scott Walker did the same, maybe we wouldn’t be dead last in jobs growth. Take a look at my plan and decide for yourself, because Wisconsin shouldn’t be dead last in anything, especially jobs growth.

The Marquette poll found that the plagiarism charge has been a minor issue, beyond the GOP base that’s already for Walker –voters care more about the weak jobs numbers that came out the same day as the allegations about Burke’s jobs plan, the poll found — so on that issue, at least, Burke’s calculation appears correct.

She was a little more fired up in Green Bay than in Milwaukee, telling the Brown County Democrats, “They are gonna throw every lie and dirty trick in the book,” but “the tougher they get, the tougher I get.”

In the crowd of mostly retirees, there’s a fondness for Burke, an odd gratitude that this affluent woman, a comparative newcomer to politics, has graced their party, and their state, with such a high-minded campaign. If this is noblesse oblige, bring it on. Introducing Burke, liberal state Sen. Dave Hansen gives her campaign skills a backhanded compliment that nonetheless seems affectionate. She was a good candidate when she started out, he says diplomatically, but “she has continually gotten better!”

In both Milwaukee and Green Bay, though, there’s palpable anxiety about the new voter ID law, which could affect 300,000 people who don’t have the required state-issued photo identification. (The ACLU and the Advancement Project have asked the Supreme Court to block it.) In the Milwaukee crowd, I heard two longtime Democratic activists, one black and one white, fret about the law and discuss a planned training for what to do on Election Day. “It’s confused the hell out of a lot of people,” says former Democratic assemblyman Jim Soletski, who lost his seat in the 2010 GOP takeover.

The biggest problem may be with absentee ballots. Even people who registered to vote absentee years ago will now have to produce a state sanctioned form of ID and either bring it in to vote in person, or copy it and send it along. (In this very close race, examining the absentee ballots to make sure they’re all properly identified could delay a result.)

Deleana Scannell, the mother of Green Bay city council member Randy Scannell, has voted absentee for a decade. “When you’re 87, it makes it so much easier,” she tells me. But here was Scannell, at the local Democratic Party headquarters to see Burke, also getting her driver’s license copied so she could mail it along with her ballot.

Joan Zeiger, the leader of a Milwaukee County retiree group, says Burke can win anyway. “She’s getting Walker on jobs,” Zeiger insists. When I ask if the businesswoman turned politician is connecting with the party’s urban base, she tells me, “She’s doing a lot better.” But she will have to work harder: Obama carried Wisconsin in 2008 and 2012 thanks to high turnout in Milwaukee, where 74 percent of voters cast ballots, compared with an urban average of 60 percent. Despite GOP chortling about Burke trying to distance herself from the president, Obama is scheduled to return to the state for Election Day, almost certainly in Milwaukee.

Some Democrats think Burke’s pledge to end divisiveness will resonate not only with independent voters – the few that exist – but with the party’s base, too. “Let’s stop making our own citizens the enemy,” Bill Appel, a local attorney and Democratic activist, says.

But the Walker campaign is certainly making Burke the enemy. We’ll see if her above-the-fray approach endures, and she prevails.

Here’s our interview:

How has Wisconsin gotten so polarized in the Walker years? Something has happened, and there’s not a lot of people left in the middle – 5 % of people are undecided.

I don’t believe that’s who we are here in Wisconsin, and I wouldn’t have gotten into the race if I really thought we were. I’m a fourth-generation Wisconsinite; I grew up in a household that’s largely independent, I grew up in Waukesha County, one of the reddest areas. A couple of weeks into the race I was at a farmer’s market shaking hands with folks and I met a couple and they said, oh, we voted for Walker, but we really like what we’re hearing about you. Most people in Wisconsin aren’t that far from the middle. It doesn’t have to be this divisive. Certain polling shows that 40 percent of people identify themselves as independents. Now whether they vote that way or not…

Yeah, people like to think they’re “independent…”

They like the idea. But you go back to 2006, when Herb Kohl last ran for Senate – he won with 67 percent of the vote. And he carried Ozaukee and Waukesha counties – not by huge margins, but he won them.

You’re saying Democrats could once do that, and could do it again…

Absolutely! That’s not going to be this race, and I know that. But that’s the type of state I believe we are and it’s the way I want to govern.

The Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel’s Craig Gilbert wrote a piece about Walker not doing as well, in some red areas of the state, as he did in the recall, and he said it was partly because he’s not running against Mayor Tom Barrett this time, so he can’t run against Milwaukee. The recall election did follow in the Republican tradition of “Wisconsin against Milwaukee,” and that’s racially and culturally charged as well. I wonder how you address that. Why do Republicans win running against Milwaukee?

It’s not an issue that I think about, and it’s not an issue that I think is relevant in this race. My approach to this campaign is to say it doesn’t have to be divisive, it doesn’t have to be about one or the other. I want to be a governor for the entire state. I’m happy to stand up and say I think Milwaukee is a great asset for this state. The greater metropolitan area is nearly a third of the state’s economy, and for Wisconsin to be a thriving state we need to have a thriving Milwaukee. So I want to take on the challenges there.

But I want to take on the challenges as well in rural Wisconsin, that has seen such tremendous loss of jobs, that over a five-year period of time has lost 9,000 farms. When you have a lagging economy like we do right now, there’s a lot of areas that are really struggling. The urban areas of southeastern Wisconsin actually are similar to northern Wisconsin in terms of the amount of job loss. People have similar concerns wherever you go in the state, people have similar ideas about what they would like to see.

And they would like an end to the divisiveness. This thought of sitting around going to Thanksgiving with families coming together and feeling like “I can’t have a conversation with him or her because…they’re on this side.” We’ve got to end that, it’s not who we are here. I just came from an event where a woman said to me: “I’m supporting you, and the thing that got me on your bandwagon was ending this divisiveness.” That’s what resonates and cuts through everything else. It may be hard for people to know what to think about jobs numbers; Walker’s spinning it, the ads go back and forth. But the divisiveness — they feel it, they see it in their lives, and they don’t think it’s who we are in Wisconsin.

It seems the Walker campaign has taken a page from the Karl Rove playbook, where you attack your opponent at their strength. John Kerry, war hero, gets Swift-boated; you’re the only candidate in the race, as you like to remind people, with any private-sector experience – so they’re hitting you on this charge of “plagiarizing” your business plan. How are you dealing with it?

I’m just straightforward about it, as I am with most things. It doesn’t surprise me – it’s a distraction from talking about Walker’s jobs record. They tried attacking Trek Bicycle, same thing, and that didn’t work too well, it blew up in their face. These allegations are completely untrue. There’s a journalism professor who’s said that’s not what it is. I’ve answered every single question about it. This is a really good plan [she points to a copy on the table], it is based on my business experience at Trek, as an entrepreneur, talking with experts like Michael Porter, it’s what we need to drive this economy forward, and yeah, they’re attacking it. But I’ve answered every question. And the only people who continue to talk about this are Walker and his folks…

Yes, you got an ethics lecture from Chris Christie yesterday, that must have been fun…

[Laughs] Yeah, well, you know what, it’s the people of Wisconsin who are going to determine this race. I’m just going to keep pushing where Wisconsin really stands and how I’m going to address it. And I think the ad that we have up now is very effective in just saying: I’m straight about this, I’ll take ideas wherever they come from, and I don’t care if they’re Democrat or Republican ideas. The same with my ad that talks about Ronald Reagan: you know what? He did have a good idea, he expanded the Earned Income Tax Credit…

And Walker actually cut it. The EITC was a Republican idea – Gerald Ford signed it, Reagan expanded it, I think every president expanded it, including George W. Bush. A few short years ago, that was a bipartisan program.

Yes! [Walker] cut 140,000 families!

So why did the 2010 election usher in a period of restrictions on women’s rights, particularly around issues of choice and contraception? Five Planned Parenthood clinics have closed in Wisconsin thanks to Walker.

It’s just the Tea Party agenda. The number of governorships Republicans were able to win in 2010 gave a green light to that kind of agenda. We see a lot more things happening on state levels, if they don’t get their way in Washington they go to the state levels. We need to stand up and say this isn’t right. Women should be able to make their own health choices. This is ridiculous. You talked about the clinics closing – that means women are not getting basic health services, they don’t have easy access to family planning.

How would you turn that around?

Well, I’m going to have to work with a Republican legislature, there’s no doubt about that. We have to find common ground. But we can certainly stop more of this nonsense from happening, because I have no doubt this is a start. This is a long process. I’m in this race to be governor for a long time, because we’re a great state. This is a state with incredible potential. We are the type of people who believe in working together. That’s what I’m gonna be focused on every day.

Do you support paid family leave? There’s some federal legislation, but a few states – California, Rhode Island – have implemented their own plan, mainly through state disability insurance.

In terms of expanding it further from where it is now?

Well, it’s not paid now, except in those states…

We’re going to have tough budget issues here, because of the hole frankly that Walker has dug us into. I mean, we have a $1.8 billion dollar projected deficit, and there was a surplus in his last budget. While you have a nationally growing economy? I mean, this is fiscally irresponsible, and it really does set it up to be very difficult. So no, it won’t be a priority, when we’re looking at historic cuts to education, we’ve got 41,000 people on a waiting list for needs-based financial aid. We have a transportation budget with a huge hole in it. Adding programs that cost money? I don’t see that happening in the near future.

I’m really practical. You have to focus on priorities. I mean longer term – if it’s an issue that really needs attention, and people aren’t being covered through plans by their employers, then I think that’s something to be looked at. But it’s not going to be a priority now.

Well that’s a very straightforward answer. It’s not an answer I particularly like, but I like that you were honest…

[Laughs and nods at her press aide, Hilary Cronon.] Hilary’s not surprised.

So the reaction that you got when you walked in – is that a common thing for you? It’s still such a big deal…

What’s a big deal?

To have a woman running for governor. At least that’s what I thought the reaction was about. Maybe that’s just me.

No, of course I’m honored. I’m gonna be a governor for the whole state, but as I campaign, and I meet people in coffee shops or on the street, or at the Packers game, or wherever I’m at – more and more it’s parents coming up with their daughter, who’s 7 or 8 years old, who says she wants to be the next president of Wisconsin — they don’t even know the word governor — and can they have a picture? It is very cool. It’s exciting to think that I can inspire young women and girls, that they can see they can do anything. There are so many women who have blazed a trail in front of me so I can do what I’m doing and not feel that gender is an issue that’s gonna hold me back. I want to be that type of role model.

As somebody who covered Hillary Clinton in 2008, it seemed to me she didn’t emphasize the historic nature of her role enough – until it was too late.

As you’re talking about it, I think about why I would, or would not, do that. I think I was brought up to not toot my own horn, just get the job done. I think women in general are brought up that way. It’s hard for me to see myself as a great trailblazer. I do whatever I need to do to get things done. That’s probably for me why I don’t emphasize it. I’m probably more modest than thinking oh I’m this great trailblazer. But I know there is incredible support for me out there.

Where do you fall, in the debate within the Democratic Party – I personally think the divisions are somewhat hyped – about income inequality and populism? You and I are the same age, so I think of us as the last generation to whom the country really kept its promises – we could get a great K-12 public education, and then we had great public universities – I paid $350 a semester when I went to UW-Madison.

Exactly!

How does a governor begin to rebuild that kind of opportunity society that we benefited from in the ’60s and early ’70s?

We just have to. I don’t believe the U.S. can have a strong economy without a strong, growing middle class. As a business person – you need people who are able to spend money, right? On inequality, it’s not as much the inequality, to me, as the fact that people are not seeing opportunities, to move from the working class to the middle class, the middle class is being squeezed. And as we come out of this recovery, all the benefits of it are going to the top? It’s just not a good economic model. It doesn’t help people’s lives, in terms of having just the basic things. And when you see you’re not able to do that through hard work, it’s a disincentive. So I want to have an economy where people see that opportunities exist for them as long as they’re able to do the hard work. That affordable higher education exists, that we have a strong, growing middle class. We’re not seeing it right now. We’re not seeing it at all.

So why, at a time like this, is Scott Walker talking about drug-testing food stamp recipients?

You’re going to have to ask him about that. It’s not in my jobs plan!

e-max.it: your social media marketing partner
 
Americans Should Be Protesting for Democracy, Too Print
Saturday, 04 October 2014 12:43

Lessig writes: "This week, tens of thousands of Hong Kong residents turned out to protest China's plan for bringing democracy to that city. Rather than letting voters pick the candidates that get to run for chief executive, Beijing wants the candidates selected by a 1,200 person 'nominating committee.'"

Pro-democracy activists filled the streets of Honk Kong. (photo: Lucas Schifres/Getty Images)
Pro-democracy activists filled the streets of Honk Kong. (photo: Lucas Schifres/Getty Images)


Americans Should Be Protesting for Democracy, Too

By Lawrence Lessig, Reader Supported News

04 October 14

 

his week, tens of thousands of Hong Kong residents turned out to protest China's plan for bringing democracy to that city. Rather than letting voters pick the candidates that get to run for chief executive, Beijing wants the candidates selected by a 1,200 person "nominating committee." Critics charge the committee will be "dominated by a pro-Beijing business and political elite." "We want genuine universal suffrage," Martin Lee, founding chairman of Hong Kong's Democratic Party demanded, "not democracy with Chinese characteristics."

But there's not much particularly Chinese in the Hong Kong design, unless Boss Tweed was an ancient Chinese prophet. Tweed famously quipped, "I don't care who does the electing, so long as I get to do the nominating." Beijing's proposal is just Tweedism updated: a multi-stage election, with a biased filter at the first stage.

The pattern has been common in America's democracy too. Across the Old South, the Democratic Primary was limited to "whites only." That bias produced a democracy responsive to whites -- only. The battle for equal rights was a fight to remove that illegitimate bias, and give African Americans an equal say in their government.

Today there's no "white primary." Today, there's a "green primary." To run in any election, primary or general, candidates must raise extraordinary sums, privately. Yet they raise that money not from all of us. They raise it from a tiny, tiny few. In the last non-presidential election, only about .05 percent of America gave the maximum contribution to even one congressional candidate in either the primary or general election; .01 percent gave $10,000 or more; and in 2012, 132 Americans gave 60 percent of the superPAC money spent. This is the biased filter in the first stage of our American democracy.

This bias has consequences. Of course, we don't have a democracy "dominated by a pro-Beijing business and political elite." But as a massive empirical study by Princeton's Martin Gilens and Benjamin I. Page published just last month shows, remove the word "pro-Beijing," and the charge translates pretty well.

America's government is demonstrably responsive to the "economic elite and organized business interests," Gilens and Page found, while "the preferences of the average American appear to have only a minuscule, near-zero, statistically non-significant impact upon public policy." Boss Tweed would have been impressed. The "green primary" isn't a formal bar to election. But it is certainly an effective bar. There isn't a single political analyst in America today who doesn't look first to whether a candidate for Congress has the necessary financial support of the relevant funders. That money isn't enough, and it certainly doesn't guarantee victory. (Only 94 percent of candidates with more money win.) But no candidate ignores the money, or is ignorant of the views of the tiny fraction of the 1 percent that provides it. That's not perfect control, but it turns out to be control enough to weaken the ability of ordinary Americans to have something other than a "non-significant impact upon public policy."

The surprise in the Hong Kong plan is not that it fits Boss Tweed's mold. The surprise is the reaction of her students, and now people. To imagine a proportionate number of Americans -- 5 million -- striking against our own version of Tweedism is to imagine the first steps of a revolution. But in America, we don't protest our "democracy with Chinese characteristics." In America, we have accepted it as as American as apple pie.

At least for now. There is no doubt that because of the way we fund campaigns, the "economic elite" -- what conservatives call "the cronies" and progressives "corporate power" -- have hijacked American democracy. And as frustration and anger about that truth grows, that elite will become as the whites of an apartheid regime: identified as the cause of a dying democracy, and the target of angry demands for reform.

It is hard to see this just now, since so much of popular culture idolizes extraordinary wealth. But as economic growth in the middle class stalls, and as inequality soars, an enemy will be found. At least unless the more enlightened of that elite, from both the Left and the Right, stop screaming at voters through their superPACs, and step up to support the change that might weaken their power, but walk us back to a democracy.

Hong Kong's students have started that struggle -- for them, there. But their ideals are ours too, as is the flaw in the system they attack. We should be demanding the reform for which they are now fighting: an unbiased election, at every important stage. Or more simply: #EndTweedismEverywhere.



Reader Supported News is the Publication of Origin for this work. Permission to republish is freely granted with credit and a link back to Reader Supported News.

e-max.it: your social media marketing partner
 
<< Start < Prev 2691 2692 2693 2694 2695 2696 2697 2698 2699 2700 Next > End >>

Page 2698 of 3432

THE NEW STREAMLINED RSN LOGIN PROCESS: Register once, then login and you are ready to comment. All you need is a Username and a Password of your choosing and you are free to comment whenever you like! Welcome to the Reader Supported News community.

RSNRSN