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The Power of Positive Persistence Print
Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=40905"><span class="small">George Lakoff, George Lakoff's Website</span></a>   
Wednesday, 24 January 2018 09:42

Lakoff writes: "Framing is about reclaiming our power to decide what's important. Framing is about making sure WE set the terms of the debate, using our language and our ideas. Conservatives have beaten progressives at this for decades. It's time for a change."

George Lakoff, 2012. (photo: Wikimedia Commons)
George Lakoff, 2012. (photo: Wikimedia Commons)


The Power of Positive Persistence

By George Lakoff, George Lakoff's Website

24 January 18


Strategies to flip negative attacks by Republicans into positive progress for Americans

ike some foreign dictator, the Republican in the White House will launch a planned attack on the free press today. But he’s been in an ongoing campaign against the truth since Day One.

It’s alarming because presidents don’t act this way. Dictators do. And there’s evidence to suggest that the Republican president’s constant attacks on the news media have encouraged dictators in other countries to continue their repression of journalists.

In a previous post, I laid out an idea to creatively undermine this pre-planned assault on the free press (see chart below). The main idea: Do the opposite of what the Republican president wants. That is: Express support for good journalism and great reporters without accepting the frame of his fake ceremony. Defeat him by celebrating the truthful, powerful stories that may take down this corrupt presidency. Deprive him of the power to focus attention on his messages.

That’s one idea. But the general concept here is more important than any specific tactic. This is about framing, and our need to get a better grasp on how framing works in politics and the media.

Framing is about reclaiming our power to decide what’s important. Framing is about making sure WE set the terms of the debate, using our language and our ideas. Conservatives have beaten progressives at this for decades. It’s time for a change.

Back to today: Let today inspire an ongoing campaign to #ProtectTheTruth. We need a long-term strategy for positive persistence. Positive persistence beats negative resistance. And while words are important, action prevails.

There’s a place for angry response and outrage. That’s only human. But we also need strategic action to make sure every passing day fuels positive action towards progress.

We must avoid the mistake of the 2016 election, when many thought Trump’s outrageous antics would naturally bring him down. They didn’t.

So if this ongoing attack on the truth offends your sense of what it means to be American, here are a few more ideas of how to convert the Republican president’s negative actions into positive progress for truth, freedom, and democracy:

  • Subscribe. Whether it’s your local paper or a national publication, SUBSCRIBE! Show that you value truthful journalism and will pay for it. Become a supporter of public radio or an independent outlet like Mother Jones.

  • Fund Victory. If we all gave 50 cents to candidates like Randy Bryce (@IronStache), Katie Hill (@KatieHill4CA), and Andrew Janze (@JanzforCongress)every time Trump tweeted, we’d have more than a #BlueWave2018. We’d have a tsunami! Fund victory! Pick a candidate in a tough race. Pledge 50 cents per tweet!

  • Support CPJ: Journalists around the world live under daily threat from dictators, criminals, and corrupt regimes. The Committee to Protect Journalists has their back. Follow them, fund them, and help!

  • Talk to People. Turn off the computer or phone and TALK to people?—?your friends, your family, your neighbors?—?about what’s happening in our country right now. Make sure they’re paying attention, and make sure they plan to vote in November!

#ProtectTheTruth


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"Zoe": On the 45th Anniversary of Roe v. Wade Print
Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=35918"><span class="small">Michael Moore, Michael Moore's Facebook Page</span></a>   
Tuesday, 23 January 2018 14:40

Moore writes: "Her boyfriend called me from the hospital. 'The abortion, Mike. They botched it. We never made it to New York.'"

Filmmaker Michael Moore. (photo: Rolling Stone)
Filmmaker Michael Moore. (photo: Rolling Stone)


"Zoe": On the 45th Anniversary of Roe v. Wade

By Michael Moore, Michael Moore's Facebook Page

23 January 18


On the 45th anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision by the U.S. Supreme Court which made abortion legal, here is a chapter from my book, “Here Comes Trouble: Stories From My Life” (Grand Central Publishing 2011), about a time during my life when abortion was illegal and a friend of mine in high school found herself with an unwanted pregnancy and nowhere to turn...

er boyfriend called me from the hospital.

“The abortion, Mike. They botched it. We never made it to New York.”

Abortion was illegal, a crime, in Michigan in 1971, as it was in most states. If you got pregnant, nine months later you had a baby. And that was that.

I was closer to Zoe than I was to perhaps any other girl in high school. She was what you would call a best friend. She had a big curly fro of hippie hair that landed wherever is damned well pleased. She played piano but was also a prodigy on the violin - which she would only play while barefoot. She smoked pot on occasion in her parents’ house, and on rare nights would take LSD “to free myself from the Fascist cop inside me.” Zoe was a free spirit, well read, and not afraid to speak her mind. I thought, some day she will change this world.

Which made her choice of a boyfriend in Tucker all the more puzzling. Tucker was completely clueless and looked like he’d be happiest sticking a blade between your ribs, or drag racing. He was from the “tough neighborhood” in town (such as it was for Davison). His favorite pastime was picking fights, and though Zoe tried to reform him, his love of fisticuffs kept his dance card filled with numerous school suspensions. He treated basic common sense as if it were a “sissy thing,” and knew little of the world outside his trailer park; I’d be surprised if he ever traveled more than five miles from his home in his lifetime.

But Tucker had the smile of the Sundance Kid and the eyes of James Dean, and Zoe loved him madly. He wore leather shit-kicking boots and had a chain attached to his belt loop -- but with nothing on the end of it, as he was too broke to afford a wallet and poorer still to have anything to put in it . A cigarette was always dangling out the side of his mouth and he had the uncanny knack of being able to inhale and blow out the smoke without ever touching the Camel.

Tucker would wait on Zoe hand and foot, and she was generous with her body in return. This won Tucker the designation by most guys as the Luckiest Dude at Davison High -- and he was still a freshman! But not just any freshman: he came in a six-foot-three and weighed 180 pounds. Zoe was a senior, like me, and I was crazy in love with her.

I made sure that she never detected even the mildest inkling of my feelings. And if Tucker ever suspected how I felt I would surely see the sharp end of his jackknife being flung my way. But he had no clue. Either I was that good of an actor, or it was just pathetically unbelievable that someone like me would ever even think of having any designs on Zoe. And it was even more implausible that she would ever see me as anything resembling boyfriend material. After all, I came from the pack of guys who were usually seen in flight from any oncoming females. I was no James Dean; I was more Jimmy Dean, the sausage king. One day, to impress her, I told her I could play cello when she was putting together a “protest recital” outside the Army recruitment center in Flint (how hard could it be – it had only four strings!). I borrowed a cello and used the bow to run it back and forth at random, and she looked at me and laughed and accused me later of eating all the special brownies.

Tucker had nothing to worry about with me, and Zoe appreciated having one guy in the school who wasn’t hitting on her. I didn’t want to let her down, and there was something noble about being different (better?) than the other boys in her eyes. Of course, there was nothing noble about denying your feelings, sexual or otherwise, but who was I going to share that with? Ann Landers? The cafeteria lady?

Having now admitted to possessing such desire, I will also admit that having a friend like Zoe was a blessing, a greater blessing than one could hope for in trying to survive the misery of adolescence. I could call her anytime, day or night, and if she wasn’t banging Tucker I was free to talk to her as long as I wanted. I lived in town, so I could easily walk over to her house anytime -- and I was there far more than Tucker ever was, since he lived out in the country and did not have a driver’s license.

Zoe and I grew very close and shared everything the way you do with that special friend in high school as you lie around the rec room – or the bedroom – for all hours of the day or night, pouring through every subject imaginable: who was “bonin” who, which classes sucked, ways to avoid the parents, how to help the kid down the street who was being punched by his dad every night, how to remove Nixon from office, playing the new Moody Blues album, sneaking into an X-rated movie (Midnight Cowboy), taking turns writing verses of poems that would become lyrics to songs that she would write the music for and sing to me. Here’s how close we were: one day, she informed me that the lips of her vulva were unlike most women’s because her labia minora was larger than her labia majora, thus causing her inner lips to fold out on top of her outer lips. She told me this as if she were reading me something from the TV Guide, and the look on my face conveyed nothing more than my desire to watch a rerun of Mayberry, RFD.

There were those times that she and Tucker “broke up” for days at a time – and I would momentarily contemplate the opening presented to me. And on one such tear-filled evening, for a second (or maybe the whole night), she “contemplated” it, t0o.

It was never spoken about again.

Tucker would return and their strange saga would continue, the couple who had nothing in common other than the perfection of their own bodies. It was a Sunday night when Zoe called and said she needed to meet me somewhere private. I drove over and picked her up and we went for a drive out to the Hogbacks.

“I’m pregnant,” she said as soon as the door slammed shut. I backed out of the driveway and she started to sob. “I can’t believe I was this stupid. I can’t have a baby.” She then fell onto my shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” I said the way a best friend would say such a thing. And then I paused to catch my breath and do the math. It seemed OK.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” I said. “This happens. Even to smart people.”

Her sobbing continued. I tried to keep my eyes on the road. “Shhhh. Don’t cry. I’m here.”

She continued to cry and so I pulled over and held her tight, the way a best friend would hold her tight.

“I have to end it,” she said, sputtering out the words.

End what? I thought. Tucker? Her...life? Please, God.

“You mean the pregnancy,” I said in a tone that did not make it a question.

“Yes,” she said. “But how’m I gonna end it?” She looked up at me with those eyes. “How?”

She told me that when she got the pregnancy test at Planned Parenthood, they explained to her that abortion, at least in our state, was illegal.

“Maybe your parents know a doctor who could…”

“I can’t tell them! I can’t let them down like this.”

“Your parents, more than any others, would understand.”

“No. This would crush them. I have to take of this myself.”

“You can’t try to abort the fetus yourself,” I said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” she assured me.

“You know,” I said, “abortion is legal in New York.”

I had no moral conflict in making this suggestion. I knew a fertilized egg wasn’t a human being.*

* I was a practicing Catholic who went to Mass every Sunday. But this is what I believed: Human life begins when the fetus can survive outside the womb. Until then, it is a form of life, but not a human being. A sperm is life (after all, it’s not swimming with a battery pack on its back), an egg is life, a fertilized egg is life, a fetus is life – but none of these are a human being, none of these are human life – just as a seed or a stem is not a flower. When you are born, you are a human being. That’s why your driver’s license lists your birthday as the day you came out of your mother’s womb, not the day you were conceived. Some people, I guess, just like to be the uterus police, the bossypants of other women’s reproductive parts. And that has always struck me as really, really weird.

“I will help you, if that’s what you want to do,” I said.

“Thank you, Mike,” she said as she dried her eyes.

“We could drive to Buffalo,” I said. “It’s probably not that far.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Or we can go to New York City. I know the city pretty well.”

Of course, I was making offers I had no clue if I could deliver on. For instance, how would I get to New York City and not have my parents notice? That was never going to happen.

But Buffalo was possible. I started to plot it out in my head. I could leave for school at 7:00 a.m. and we could be in Buffalo by noon. How long would the procedure take? I didn’t even know exactly what the “procedure” would be, but let’s say three hours, then another four hours back -- I could be home by 8:00 p.m. -- late for dinner, to be sure, but suffering no more than a stern word or two.

“I have to tell Tucker,” she said, as the Bad Idea buzzer rang in my head.

“Yes. Sure. He has to know.”

I drove her over to Tucker’s trailer and waited outside while she went in to deliver the news. Fifteen minutes later they emerged from his trailer, arm in arm, and I sighed. They got in the front seat with me, with Zoe in the middle.

“Thanks, man, for offering to help,” Tucker said as he reached out to put his arm on my shoulder.

“Hey, no problem. I’m sure you guys would do the same for me if I got pregnant.”

Zoe laughed. Tucker continued: “I was thinking we should keep the baby,” the high school freshman without the driver’s license said, loving the swagger and the idea that he had actually produced something in his life. “Yeah, well, that’s not happening,” Zoe said, shutting him up, and relieving me.

We went over to the A&W for root beers and fries and further planning on how to end the unplanned pregnancy.

In the coming days I did the research and found the most reputable abortion clinics in New York City. I planned out our entire trip -- one that we would take with my parents’ permission, though they would know nothing about the abortion. We would stay at my aunt’s on Staten Island. I told my mother that I wanted to go to New York for the weekend because I was considering going to college there.

“We can’t afford that,” she replied without shame.

“I’ve checked into scholarships and I think I might have a good chance. I’ve looked into Fordham. Jesuits! Good!”

Here I was, playing the Catholic card again, and dang if it didn’t always work. Her sister had married a man who went to Fordham, and I told her that would open a door for me. I promised I’d be gone just for the weekend and would miss no school.

“And you’ll stay with Aunt Lois?”

“Absolutely.”

My parents liked Zoe and, as their radar could detect no carnal scent in either direction, they did not consider her a threat.

I got Zoe and Tucker all excited about the fun time we could have in New York. You would have thought we were going there to have a tooth pulled -- and then it was off to Times Square to see Hair and the Village to see Joni Mitchell. Maybe I could even score some tickets to Dick Cavett.

But my parents had too long to think about this odd trip, and within days the kibosh was put to it. I put up quite a fight, but there was no way to win this one. And who was this Tucker fellow?

“Hey,” Zoe said, “don’t feel bad. You gave it a good shot. Maybe we should go back to the Buffalo plan.”

“Sure,” I said, somewhat defeated. “Sounds good.”

At this point Zoe and Tucker began to realize that in going to get an abortion, three’s a crowd, and so they told me they would take over from this point going forward.

I would have said something to them about an umbilical cord being cut here, but this wasn’t the time for puns, although it certainly was the way I felt. There was nothing I could do other than accept the situation for what it was. Tucker was being very good to her, and she had calmed down and was now pretty matter-of-fact about their trip. I lent them all the cash I had -- fifty bucks -- to add to the stash of what they were scrounging together to pay for it.

On the day that I knew they were leaving, I went to school as if it were any normal day. But my mind was elsewhere. One’s thoughts don’t normally drift toward Buffalo, but I couldn’t do much else that day but worry about my best friend’s safety and well-being.

It was after dinner when the phone rang. My sister answered. “Mike – it’s Tucker.”

I went to the phone, knowing that they had returned by now.

“Hey.”

“The abortion,” he said, whispering, out of breath, and, if it weren’t Tucker, I’d say he was crying.

“They botched it. We never made it to New York. We didn’t go to Buffalo. We’re in Detroit.”

“Shit!” I said, a bit too loud. “What are you doing in Detroit? How is she?

“Not…not good,” he said, now clearly in tears. “Mikehelp me! She’s bleeding pretty bad. I don’t know what to do.”

“Where are you,” I asked trying not to scream or cry myself.

“I got her to a hospital…somewhere here in Detroit. It was just awful. Awful. Oh God…I don’t want to lose her!”

I was unable to swallow. The lump in the throat grew into a full choke. I cupped my hand over the phone and swung the cord around the wall from the dining room and into the kitchen so no one could hear or see me. I tried to keep it together and figure out what I needed to do.

“What do the doctors say?”

“They say she’s lost a lot of blood. She goes in and out. They won’t let me in there. I’m 15, and I’m sure they’ve called the cops by now. I don’t know what to do!” He broke down uncontrollably.

“OK, listen! Pull it together! I’m getting in the car right now. I’ll be there in less than an hour. If the cops show up, say nothing. Say you want a lawyer and keep repeating that. And if they’ll let you in there, hold her hand and let her know she’s not alone – and tell her I’m coming.”

“OK. OK. I’m so sorry. This was my idea. We didn’t have the money for Buffalo. Someone told us about a safe place in Detroit. Cheap. It was wrong from the minute we got there and I just should’ve turned her around and left. I’m so sorry. Please… forgive me.”

Right now none of that mattered. I shouted upstairs that I was going to go hang out with Tucker and Zoe and I’d be back in a couple hours.

“Back by 10,” my mom shouted.

“Yes. Ten. Bye!”

I tore down M-15 to Clarkston and got on I-75 and hit the gas. At times the speedometer read ninety. The V-8 on the Impala had me in Detroit in fifty-two minutes. I followed the signs to the hospital, parked the car in the emergency room lot, and ran in. Tucker was there, his eyes all red.

“It’s OK, it’s OK,” I told him, as I hugged him. I asked the nurse if I could go see Zoe, and she said no. I asked about her condition.

“Are you a relative,” she asked.

“I’m her brother,” I said, without thinking.

“And where are your parents?”

“Where are yours?” I snapped back at her, realizing instantly that this was not going to serve me well. I changed my tone immediately.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m upset. I’m nineteen, she’s eighteen, and we don’t want to involve or upset our parents with this, if that’s OK. I hope you understand.” The BS flowed smoothly enough, but the tears that had formed in my eyes were real.

“OK, fine,” she said, filing away my insult for later retribution. “Just sit over there, and I’ll see if a doctor can come out to speak to the two of you.”

We waited nearly an hour before the resident came out looking for us.

“Which one of you is family?”

“I am,” I said.

“OK. Let me just say this was the stupidest thing you could have done. These back-alley abortionists are not doctors. They have no medical training whatsoever, and they do this only to make money and take advantage of people like you.”

“It’s all we could afford,” Tucker inserted unnecessarily. The doctor paused as he assessed who exactly this hoodlum was.

It is illegal,” he said hitting every word like he was hitting Tucker’s face. “You may have killed her. But you didn’t. She’s going to recover. You took an enormous risk.”

“What exactly is her condition right now,” I asked, hoping to end the lecture.

“She’s cut up inside, her uterus and her cervix. It also looks like they used some form of ammonia, so there seem to be burns in there, too. We’ve stopped the bleeding and are caring for the inner wall linings, and she’s in a bit of shock. We have her resting now and sedated, and she’s getting the proper attention she needs. Are your parents on their way?”

“Yes,” I lied. “They should be here soon.”

The doctor shot another look at Tucker. “You care at all to know if she’s still carrying the baby?” he said, without adding the implied “punk” at the end of the sentence.

“Yeah, sure,” Tucker said without looking at the doctor.

“The baby’s gone,” he said, using the word baby for the second time for affect, to hurt Tucker. It hurt me.

“It’s not a baby,” I said quietly. “She was ten weeks pregnant. It was a fetus. If Michigan wasn’t so backward, she wouldn’t be lying in there like that. That’s all I’m mad about. Thank you for helping her.”

He did not appreciate my diatribe and simply turned away and went back into the ER.

“Are her parents really coming?” Tucker asked, panicked.

“No. But we have to call them. She’s going to be here for at least tonight, and they are going to be frightened when she doesn’t come home. I’ll call them. And I’ll try to help when they get here.”

I went to the pay phone and called her parents collect. I told them not to worry, Zoe was OK, but she was in the hospital in Detroit as she had come down here to terminate a pregnancy. There was crying and cursing, and I told them I was sorry, I didn’t know, I thought Tucker had called them, I drove to the hospital as soon as Tucker called me. I said I would stay with Zoe until they got there.

When they arrived I stood between them and Tucker to ward off any violence, and I asked everyone to try and focus on Zoe and we can yell at each other later. Her mother spoke to the nurse, then the doctor, and they allowed her and her husband back in the room. In a few minutes, they sent for her “brother.” I looked at Tucker, who just seemed lost and more in need of a babysitter or a mother of his own at the moment. I followed the nurse into the room, and she pulled back the curtain to reveal Zoe, half awake in bed, her hand being held by her mother, her dad still glancing my way, wanting to punch someone.

“Hi Zoe,” I said, and went over to her other side and took her other hand.

“I’m…so…sorry,” she mumbled. “We…made…a…m-mistake.”

“Don’t think about that now. The doctor said you’re doing fine, you just need to rest. And your mom and dad are here and everything’s gonna be alright.”

“Thank…you,” she whispered, her throat all raspy. “You’re…my…” She broke down crying. There was no real word with which to finish that sentence, none that adequately described our relationship -- or if there was, it could not be spoken in this room. I helped her finish the sentence.

“Friend,” I said, smiling.

“Yes. Always.”

Zoe soon broke up with Tucker. After we graduated, I became consumed with my first year of college and all things political, but Zoe and I still hung out a lot, still listened to music and shared our most intimate feelings with each other. She signed up to go to community college, but halfway through the second semester she dropped out, and she and her family moved out West. We stayed in touch by writing letters, but she was into adventure and wandering with hippie friends she met along the way. Soon, there was no contact, and life went on.

I last saw Zoe over a decade ago. She was playing in a recital in Chicago, and she told me how she got part-time work playing in various orchestras and symphonies (they made her wear shoes). She lived in LA for a while and played in the back-up string sections on pop and rock records. It was good to catch up and go over old times. The man she was with seemed nice but of few words. I did notice that he had the same chain that Tucker used to have, hanging from his belt loop. I left our reunion feeling good about Zoe and the life she had carved out for herself, and I was somewhat relieved when I saw that her boyfriend’s chain was clearly connected to something substantial in his pocket.


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FOCUS: How Russia's Hilarious, Homoerotic "Satisfaction" Became a Nationwide Meme of Solidarity Print
Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=46742"><span class="small">Masha Gessen, The New Yorker</span></a>   
Tuesday, 23 January 2018 13:14

Gessen writes: "A few weeks ago, fourteen Russian first-year air-transport cadets made a parody of a fifteen-year-old music clip, and now it's all a lot of Russians can talk about."

The parodies, based on the video for Benny Benassi's 'Satisfaction' (above), are an organized show of resistance against a repressive state. (photo: YouTube)
The parodies, based on the video for Benny Benassi's 'Satisfaction' (above), are an organized show of resistance against a repressive state. (photo: YouTube)


How Russia's Hilarious, Homoerotic "Satisfaction" Became a Nationwide Meme of Solidarity

By Masha Gessen, The New Yorker

23 January 18

 

few weeks ago, fourteen Russian first-year air-transport cadets made a parody of a fifteen-year-old music clip, and now it’s all a lot of Russians can talk about. This is a story of spontaneous solidarity, self-organization, and, ultimately, just possibly, the triumph of freedom over bureaucracy.

The original clip, set to the 2002 track “Satisfaction,” by the Italian d.j. Benny Benassi, is itself a parody: of music videos, erotica, and advertising. It features a series of scantily clad young women working with tools, starting with a hammer and graduating to a masonry drill, a belt sander, and an angle grinder. The screen features names and technical descriptions of the tools while the women pose with their bodies contorted and their mouths open, as though they were in a Victoria’s Secret catalogue. In their parody, the air-transport cadets used an all-male cast, the interior of a well-worn student dorm, and the kinds of tools that are found there: a broom, a clothes iron, a spray jar of glass cleaner. Mostly, though, they used their own very young bodies, dressed in underwear, with belts, neckties, and military caps arranged in apparent homage to Tom of Finland.

It appears that the cadets didn’t intend to distribute their video publicly. But, in mid-January, the clip was posted online, to swift official reaction. The air-travel ministry announced that it was forming a commission to “investigate all circumstances and causes of this outrageous incident.” The prosecutor’s office launched its own investigation but swiftly wrapped it up, stating that no laws were violated. The head of the air-transport academy publicly compared the cadets to Pussy Riot, the protest group whose members were sentenced to two years in jail for attempting to dance in a cathedral. The local governor issued a statement calling for the cadets to be “punished” but not expelled from the academy.

State television covered the clip on talk shows and news programs, rebroadcasting it to millions of their viewers each time. “I see clear expressions of homosexuality,” a woman introduced as a sexologist told a reporter on the twenty-four-hour state news channel, which broadcast the video in its entirety. “It’s a provocation,” her sister, also a sexologist, added. The sisters were dressed in identical brown pants suits and white blouses.

And then the Russian Internet was flooded with clips shot to support the air-transport cadets, often hashtagged #Satisfaction. (I highly recommend that the reader watch all of the following videos, in the order in which they are provided.) There were the trade schools—construction, agricultural—and emergency services. Then there were the jockeys and the stable boys, the theatre troupe, the nurses, and the members of the Russian women’s biathlon team. Most clips contained a message of support and some identifying information—“Medical students in support of the air-transport cadets,” for example—and many of the participants made a point of wearing uniforms, if they had them. A Ukrainian swim team shot part of its clip underwater; another group filmed outside in the snow; a rare mixed-gender group shot in a sauna; self-identified retired women of St. Petersburg filmed in the squalor of a communal apartment.

The clips keep coming. They are so numerous, so exuberant, and come from such different corners of Russian society—from eighteen-year-old cadets to middle-aged middle-class sauna enthusiasts to the elderly communal-apartment dwellers—that they serve as the best proof yet that Russia is not nearly as conservative as the Kremlin has claimed in recent years. Sociologists have known this all along: even as Putin has positioned Russia as the center of an imagined “traditional-values civilization,” independent opinion surveys have shown that, to take two examples, Russians overwhelmingly support the right to abortion and are more tolerant of adultery than most nations outside of France. At the same time, a majority of Russians identify as Russian Orthodox and express virulently homophobic attitudes—most likely because the Church and queer-baiting are two pillars of the Kremlin’s ideology, and Russians are constantly reminded what kinds of opinions they are expected to express on these topics.

Given Russia’s official and highly politicized homophobia, these parodies are pure protest, raunchy and playful. They demonstrate that Russians can still form horizontal connections, despite the state’s monopoly on the public sphere, and despite the threat of harsh penalties for protest in general and “propaganda of homosexuality” in particular. Each clip is at once a show of solidarity with a group of young strangers and a show of ordinary people’s ability to organize and act together—an ability that the state would seem to have stamped out. Many of the videos involve a fair amount of staging, choreographing, and shared risk; most culminate with a scene in which a dozen or so young men dance together, whether in the laundry room of a student dormitory or underwater.

As the videos continue to replicate, they become, generally, less sexy and more funny. But in most cases the last scene is still pointedly homoerotic. This is remarkable in a country that’s not only deeply homophobic but has also been in the grip of an anti-gay campaign for some six years. Performing homoeroticism is, as it turns out, the real power tool when it comes to sticking it to the authorities.


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FOCUS: Robert De Niro Accused of Exploiting Hurricane Irma to Build Resort in Barbuda Print
Tuesday, 23 January 2018 11:45

Excerpt: "A chorus of voices from the Caribbean island of Barbuda is accusing Robert De Niro of being part of a backroom effort to exploit a devastating hurricane to fundamentally change the island's communal land ownership law in the interest of developers."

Robert De Niro. (photo: Chris Young/AP)
Robert De Niro. (photo: Chris Young/AP)


Robert De Niro Accused of Exploiting Hurricane Irma to Build Resort in Barbuda

By Naomi Klein and Alleen Brown, The Intercept

23 January 18

 

chorus of voices from the Caribbean island of Barbuda is accusing Robert De Niro of being part of a backroom effort to exploit a devastating hurricane to fundamentally change the island’s communal land ownership law in the interest of developers — changes opposed by many Barbudans, but which could aid the actor’s controversial plans to build a large luxury resort called Paradise Found Nobu.

Earlier this month, with almost no international news coverage and with the majority of Barbudans still displaced from the storm, an amendment to the law in question was quietly pushed through the Senate of Antigua and Barbuda — a body dominated by politicians from the wealthier and more populous island of Antigua. If the amendment stands, a tradition of communal land rights that dates back to the abolition of slavery in 1834 — and which has protected Barbuda as a rare beacon of sustainable development in the Caribbean — will be extinguished.

But as news of the change trickles out, Barbudans are fighting back, challenging the legality of the amendment to the Barbuda Land Act. And they say the island’s highest-profile investor, Robert De Niro, stands to benefit most.

“It’s just a scam to take away the land from the Barbudans so they can give it to people like Robert de Niro,” said Mackenzie Frank, a former senator from the island. “Anyone who has beach land is laughing all the way to the bank.”

De Niro, who has so far stayed silent as the controversy has grown, did not respond to The Intercept’s requests for comment.

Up until the recent changes, land in Barbuda was held in common: It could not be bought or sold, and though developers could lease land for 50 years, their projects needed to win the consent of a majority of Barbudans. It was a rare example of participatory economic planning and successful land redistribution to freed slaves and their descendants.

But the Land Act was resented by foreign investors and wealthy Antiguans, and the latest push to alter the law first reared its head just days after Hurricane Irma roared through Barbuda. The island had been hit by storms before, but never like this: Upwards of 90 percent of the buildings in Barbuda were damaged, and all residents were evacuated to Antigua.

When they heard about the proposed changes to the Land Act, many Barbudans (including those living in the diaspora) objected — but it was nearly impossible for them to organize effective opposition. As Tim George, a U.K. citizen whose mother is Barbudan, observed weeks after the storm, “An entire population is now housed in temporary shelter, reliant on the authorities for everything, and restricted in their access to their homes. By allowing an opportunistic Antiguan government the momentum to force this change past a traumatised community in its most vulnerable moment, the core freedom secured by those emancipated from slavery, successfully defended and passed down through generations, is under serious threat.”

Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, a marine biologist and ocean conservationist who worked in Barbuda for years, describes the attempted changes a “land grab” and “a wild episode of disaster capitalism.”

To many outsiders, the role De Niro played in this period seemed benign, if not downright heroic. In the weeks after Irma hit, he appeared at the United Nations and on cable news, pledging to personally help with Barbuda’s reconstruction and urging governments and international agencies to pony up aid and stand with the “vulnerable.” In interviews, De Niro did mention that he had a hotel project in development on the island, but only to explain his particular compassion for the people there.

The facts paint a more complex picture. Though best known for acting and producing (as well as founding the Tribeca Film Festival), De Niro has also emerged as a highly successful real estate mogul, accumulating a rapidly expanding empire of elite properties. As co-owner of Nobu Hospitality, De Niro helped turn a celebrated Japanese eatery in Beverly Hills into a chain of dozens of restaurants around the world, as well as a growing roster of luxury condos and hotels.

***

For the most part, Nobu’s expansion has focused on cities, but in recent years, De Niro has had his sights set on an ambitious project on Barbuda, which has a population of approximately 1,800. In 2014, the actor partnered with the Australian billionaire bad boy James Packer (best known for his messy break-up with singer Mariah Carey) to develop an exclusive hotel there. They bought out the lease on a derelict resort that, in its heyday, had been Princess Diana’s favorite family beach destination. Attracted to the island’s unspoiled white beaches, shallow turquoise waters, and slow pace, De Niro and Packer unveiled plans to significantly expand the property and rebrand it as “Paradise Found Nobu.” Packer has also not responded to a request for comment.

But there were limits to how big and how lavish the resort could be. That’s because Barbuda’s unique and democratic collective land ownership structure keeps the pace of development in check. As explained in this New York Times documentary, the island runs “like a co-op,” with decisions about land use driven by an elected council, and approvals for major developments going to a general vote. Many of its inhabitants raise livestock or fish for lobster to support themselves. “Life in Barbuda, it is slow, it is quiet, it is restful, it’s peaceful,” 25-year-old Kendra Beazer, the youngest member of the Barbuda Council, told The Intercept.

In contrast, the other half of the twin-island nation, Antigua, has flung itself open to mega resorts and heavy cruise ship traffic (as well as financial services). Seeing further opportunity in Barbuda’s pristine beaches and abundant fisheries, the Antiguan-dominated government – which has strong ties to real estate and banking — has long fought to end the tradition of communal land rights on Barbuda. Casting this pressure as an attack on hard-won victories after the abolition of slavery, Barbudans convinced legislators in 2007 to cement in law the practices they had followed for hundreds of years. The Barbuda Land Act underlined that “all land in Barbuda shall be owned in common by the people of Barbuda,” and “no land in Barbuda shall be sold.”

All of this has kept the vast majority of the island in the hands of families directly descended from slaves — a remarkable achievement. It has also kept tourism and most other development at a sustainable level, which is the reason Barbuda remained a “paradise” to be “found” by men like De Niro and Packer in the first place.

But for investors with big dreams, the Barbuda Land Act was also highly inconvenient. It placed limits on the length of their leases, the footprint of their properties, and the infrastructure that could service them. It also required a great deal of democratic engagement with the island’s residents, as opposed to the usual top-down deals.

De Niro and Packer have not navigated this landscape well, choosing instead to try winning exceptions to the Land Act from the Antigua-based government of Prime Minister Gaston Browne, a former banker who consistently casts Barbuda as a “welfare island.” De Niro has found a fierce ally in Browne. Months before the Barbudan approval process could even begin, the prime minister signed a memorandum of agreement with the actor, promising a 198-year lease of 555 acres for just $6.2 million, plus an array of tax benefits. He went further, dubbing De Niro an official “economic envoy” of Antigua and Barbuda.

This approach has not gone over well with many Barbudans, who see it as railroading their democratic rules. It’s a conflict that has landed De Niro and Packer in a protracted legal mess, with hundreds of Barbudans signing a petition against their plans for Paradise Found. Members of the political party Barbuda People’s Movement sued the project, arguing that the referendum approving it illegally allowed non-Barbudans to vote and failed to anonymize the ballots.

Browne responded to these challenges by going to war for De Niro. “Those who may intend to become economic terrorists in this country,” he said in March 2015, referring to project opponents, “they would have to face the full extent of the law for any infractions whatsoever.” Months later, his government went so far as to pass the Paradise Found Act, specially designed to approve De Niro’s project and bypass the Barbuda Land Act with its collective approval requirements. Just for Paradise Found, the act explicitly nullifies the community approval sections of the Barbuda Land Act. It also grants the project permission to build its own television service, renewable energy, and desalinization plants, “for the sole purpose of the Project,” as well as infrastructure for “large and super yachts” and a helipad.

Members of the Barbuda People’s Movement once again challenged the Paradise Found Act, wary that this one development was a harbinger of a future for their island that would be all about catering to the global yacht-owning set. (Indeed several other high-end developers have pursued similar projects, including John Paul DeJoria, the billionaire creator of Paul Mitchell hair products and Patron tequila, and Peter Virdee, a British real estate developer and solar energy investor, who was arrested last year for allegedly leading a carbon credit fraud scheme.) It did not escape their notice that buried in Browne’s memorandum of agreement with De Niro was a troubling clause, stating that should Barbudan land become available to own privately at any point in the future, the government of Antigua and Barbuda would “facilitate the immediate conversion” of leased Barbudan land to private title.

At the time, changing the law didn’t seem politically feasible. But then came Hurricane Irma — and those troublesome Barbudans were literally swept out of the way. As Rodney Williams, Barbuda’s governor general, memorably told the U.N. last September, “For the first time in over 300 years, there is today not a single human being living on Barbuda.”

***

Shortly after the storm, Browne declared the island unfit for habitation. Eventually, the prime minister began to allow small groups of islanders to return to Barbuda for a few hours each day to pick up their lives before getting back on the two-hour ferry to Antigua. But it would be three weeks after the storm before the mandatory evacuation order was lifted.

To this day Barbuda remains without power or running water. Only around 400 people have returned, in part because the schools have not reopened, leaving families with children stuck in Antigua, many still in temporary shelters. Although a state of emergency expired in October, the military never left. Now many are asking why — despite an outpouring of aid — reconstruction has been so slow.

According to John Mussington, a Barbudan school principal and co-founder of the group Barbuda Silent No More, livelihoods collapsed in the weeks that went by before people could return. Homes filled with mold, chickens were attacked by stray dogs, pigs trampled gardens. “The economy in Barbuda was destroyed,” he said in an interview.

With Barbuda empty and its people’s means of saving money dramatically eroded, Prime Minister Browne made his move. Less than a week after Irma hit, he announced a plan to allow Barbudans to buy property rights to their own land for a dollar per plot, casting it as a crucial form of post-disaster relief. According to Browne, the sell-off would allow Barbudans to obtain loans that he said they couldn’t access without a deed as collateral. “They can go into the bank, they can borrow money, they can repair their properties, they can get a mortgage, they can build,” he said.

Browne has made no secret of the fact that he sees the storm as more than a tragedy. “We are saddened by the extent of the damage,” the Prime Minister said in an interview with the New York Times, “But there are opportunities to be exploited.”

Many Barbudans — those displaced to Antigua and those living in the diaspora in places like New York and Toronto — have spoken out against Browne’s definition of “opportunities” and insisted that this was no time to attack centuries-old land rights. But like all disaster-struck people, they were also focused on immediately pressing emergencies: When would they be able to access their homes? When would the lights come back on? When would the schools open?

It was in this context that, on Dec 12, a sweeping 13-page “amendment” to the hard-won Barbuda Land Act was officially introduced in Antigua and Barbuda’s house of representatives. It includes changes that entirely reverse the meaning of the law. In the amendment, a clause declaring a Barbuda “owned in common by the people of Barbuda” was deleted and replaced. “The fundamental purpose of the Act is to grant to Barbudans the right to purchase the [land],” the amended act reads.

Prime Minister Browne has said that the law would restrict ownership to Barbudans — and only if they choose to buy. But by allowing land to be sold at all, the communal land ownership structure is being fundamentally changed, and many see a slippery slope. Moreover, once land has been purchased, it can then be leased to foreign developers without a democratic process.

To add salt to the wound, the amendment also altered the definition of a Barbudan, eliminating those whose grandparents lived on the island. With the law’s passage, a swath of the Barbudan diaspora’s claims to the land were erased.

Significantly, in a section entitled “Leases for major development,” it states that while investors can apply to the Barbuda Council for leases, the Cabinet of Antigua and Barbuda can also grant leases on its own, after mere “consultation” with the Barbuda Council — and there is no mention whatsoever of the Barbudan population voting or participating in decisions to grant leases, effectively erasing their participatory democracy. It also states these leases can be handed out for periods longer than 50 years “as the Cabinet may deem fit.”

In short, these radical changes would retroactively enshrine in law a version of what Gaston Browne attempted to do — against the legal objections of many Barbudans — for Paradise Found. De Niro and Packer’s property is specifically named at the end of the amendment, making it explicit that it is covered by these new business-friendly rules. Sections of the previous version of the law, meanwhile, are declared “unconstitutional” and therefore repealed.

All of which means that turning Paradise Found into a reality — including those parts of the project that many Barbudans objected to — appears to have gotten significantly less complicated, and potentially more profitable.

Members of Barbuda Silent No More filed a request for an injunction, calling the amendment illegal. “The law in Antigua and Barbuda specifically states that the Barbuda Land Act and the communal land rights it protects cannot be changed without the consent of the Barbudan people,” the attorney Leslie Thomas said in a statement. But a judge denied the injunction, and this month, the amendment to the land law was approved — it now awaits only the signature of the governor general.

Many Barbudans have pledged to continue fighting, despite the difficulties organizing a disaster-struck people. “You just do not get the kind of reaction that you would normally have if this was going on under any other circumstance,” Mussington said. “It was done deliberately and while Barbudans were traumatized, while they were kept away from their homes, while they were scattered, suffering post-traumatic stress.”

And he insists that developers like De Niro share the blame. “Whoever are the beneficiaries of Paradise Found, they have to bear the responsibility of what is happening to us in Barbuda.” He added, “You are coming into someone’s territory and there are laws and regulations, which govern how you should operate. You do not like these laws, so you ignore them. You go even further and change those laws to suit yourself. Your actions therefore demonstrate that you have elevated yourself above the people you are dealing with.”

Asha Frank, a member of the Barbuda Council, puts it in starker terms: “You can’t just expect you can go somewhere and then decide ‘this is how I want to do it — it doesn’t matter who’s there, this is how I’m going to do it.’ It’s neocolonialism.”

Of course, Barbudans are not unanimous in their criticisms of the concessions granted to Paradise Found, an issue over which the Barbuda Council has been divided. Even those who have objected to the efforts to bypass Barbuda’s democratic process are quick to explain that they do not oppose Paradise Found entirely, nor are they anti-tourism. As council member Kendra Beazer said, “We want that type of development on Barbuda in terms of [De Niro’s] reputation and recognition worldwide. However he needs to respect the Barbudans and their way of life and work with us.”

There are painful historical echoes in this series of events. Barbuda’s history is sparsely documented, but according to residents the special land law has its roots in 1834, when a pitched conflict erupted in response to an attempt to forcibly relocate newly emancipated slaves in Barbuda to plantations in Antigua so that a slave owner, Sir Christopher Bethell-Codrington, could collect compensation for his lost “property” from the British Crown. The Barbudan slaves refused to move, preferring to stay on the land and waters where they had long raised animals, farmed, and fished. After a failed attempt to quash the resistance by British forces, the freed slaves eventually gained control over the land on their island, leaving Codrington to gripe that “Negro emancipation seems to have made the Proprietor the Slave. The former will reside on my Property and have daily wages whether I have work for them or not.”

Indeed, on the land where they had been slaves, Barbudans created a democratic, communal ownership structure, which they have fiercely protected for almost two centuries. As former senator Mackenzie Frank put it, “It was born in the bowels of slavery and continued to grow in the post-emancipation world.”

Now, with the help of Hurricane Irma, Gaston Browne seems to have pulled off what Barbuda’s former colonial masters could not: he relocated hundreds of Barbudans to Antigua and proceeded to strip them of their communal land rights. Meanwhile, the pro-corporate makeover of Barbuda that politicians like Browne have long dreamed of is speeding ahead. With homes still destroyed, and the primary school sitting without a roof, construction of a new international airport is advancing. Before the storm, Paradise Found reportedly put up some of the funding for the airport since it is needed for the elite resort to move forward.

Days after the Barbuda Land Act amendment passed, the Clinton Foundation and the Rocky Mountain Institute announced “a new effort to redesign Barbuda’s power sector and to shift to a renewable energy model.” Council members say they were not consulted.

Prime Minister Browne’s office did not respond to a request for comment.

For now, the steep inequalities that are a fact of life nearly everywhere on earth do not exist on Barbuda. The ocean provides food security, and any Barbudan can claim occupancy of beachfront property. “You don’t have homeless persons, you don’t have persons starving because of their inability to sustain themselves,” Mussington said.

All of that, he predicts, is now at risk. “When anyone can purchase land, and especially when you’re going into luxury homes and these real estate ventures — what happens to property prices? They skyrocket. Pretty soon land will not be within the reach of the average Barbudans.” He says that mortgages will lead to foreclosures, and banks will likely end up selling to non-Barbudans.

Kendra Beazer agrees. “I believe in my heart that this will change what was Barbudan completely, because the whole notion of us owning this precious island in common is no longer the case,” he said. “We will no longer be entitled to a plot by just seeing it and being able to build for our family, build our life, on that plot of land.”

To Mussington, De Niro is a brand, a face that stands for an array of wealthy investors who fail to carefully consider the lives of Barbudans before staking a claim to their paradise. “Such investors get their hands on virgin land, cheap or at no price. They then turn around and sell these lands as luxury properties for the rich and famous and make a quick profit with huge returns,” he said. “Getting a big name attached to your venture is seen as a way of selling to the clientele.”

In an interview with The Intercept, Tim George added, “Robert De Niro has a direct responsibility to grasp Barbudan culture and tradition. However, while Gaston Brown does the dirty work on Barbuda, De Niro has chosen silence as if waiting to benefit most from a paradise lost.”

When Robert De Niro spoke at the United Nations in the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Irma, he told the audience that, “We must act together to help the most vulnerable. The recovery process will be a long, hard road. Barbudans must be a part of it.”

Barbudans, with their long and deep tradition of participatory democracy, believe they should be part of it too. Which is why many are now calling on De Niro to change course and stand with them as they challenge a radical change to their land rights they consider illegal. In her letter sent to De Niro’s office last week, the marine biologist Ayana Elizabeth Johnson wrote that “If Mr. De Niro expresses support for Barbudans’ will to maintain their communal land ownership, that could make all the difference, and his resort project could still proceed, just requiring the consent of the community. If he does not speak up, he could become the next iconic face of a white man increasing his personal wealth on the backs of people of color.”

In so many cases after major disasters strike, survivors fight for the right to rebuild in ways that are fairer and more sustainable than the pre-disaster status quo — with greater food and housing security, with economic development focused on people’s needs as opposed to investor wish lists, and with the power to fully participate in the decisions that will greatly impact their futures. Those have been the core demands of movements calling for a “just recovery,” from Puerto Rico and Houston today to New Orleans after Katrina. The bitter irony is that Barbudans — with their participatory democracy and careful land use practices — had all of these rights before disaster struck. And now, dispersed from their homes after Irma, they are in the midst of losing them.


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Pennsylvania's Gerrymandered House Map Was Just Struck Down - With Huge Implications for 2018 Print
Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=33017"><span class="small">Andrew Prokop, Vox</span></a>   
Tuesday, 23 January 2018 09:43

Prokop writes: "If the ruling holds, it will be an enormous help to Democrats' efforts to regain control of the House of Representatives in 2018 - because Pennsylvania's House map was one of the most wildly biased toward Republicans in the country."

Voters at a polling precinct. (photo: Getty Images)
Voters at a polling precinct. (photo: Getty Images)


Pennsylvania's Gerrymandered House Map Was Just Struck Down - With Huge Implications for 2018

By Andrew Prokop, Vox

23 January 18


It was one of the most pro-Republican gerrymanders in the country.

he Pennsylvania Supreme Court ruled Monday that the state’s US House maps were based on a Republican partisan gerrymander that violated the state’s constitution — and struck them down.

If the ruling holds, it will be an enormous help to Democrats’ efforts to regain control of the House of Representatives in 2018 — because Pennsylvania’s House map was one of the most wildly biased toward Republicans in the country.

The ruling states that Pennsylvania’s government has until February 15 to get a new map through the legislature and signed into law. If they fail to do so — a likely prospect, since the state has a Republican-controlled legislature and Democratic governor — the Pennsylvania Supreme Court will take over the process and institute a new map. (The court has a Democratic majority.)

Republicans have appealed the ruling to the US Supreme Court, but it is unclear whether the justices will get involved with a matter of state law.

To get a sense of how powerful Pennsylvania’s gerrymander was, consider that, in 2012, Democratic candidates won slightly more votes in US House elections and Barack Obama won the state. But the state’s 18 House seats didn’t split 9-9 between the parties — instead, Republicans won 13 seats there, and continued to win them for the rest of the decade.

Republicans currently hold the majority in the entire House of Representatives by 24 seats (assuming no special elections result in partisan change) — and the Pennsylvania gerrymander could be responsible for four of those seats. That’s a massive amount when you keep in mind that it’s just one state.

Furthermore, the ruling comes at a time when Democrats already sensed opportunity in Pennsylvania. A combination of retirements, scandals, and suburban voters’ repulsion of Trump have rattled the GOP’s House delegation there. Still, the existing map was so tough for Democrats that they were wary of setting their sights too high. A new map could change everything.

Pennsylvania’s House map was a contender for “gerrymander of the decade”


Republicans dominated in the 2010 elections in Pennsylvania, winning control of the governorship and the state house, and holding on to the state senate. So when the once-a-decade redistricting process kicked off the following year, the GOP was in a powerful position. The party could redraw the state’s US House of Representatives districts however it liked, cutting Democrats out of the process entirely.

You’ll notice that the map above isn’t particularly clean. It’s full of jagged edges, weird outcroppings, and strange shapes. That’s no accident: Republicans tried to pack Democratic-leaning areas together into very few districts. The hoped-for result was that the GOP would lose a few districts by large margins, yet win a majority of districts comfortably and consistently.

That’s exactly what happened. In statewide elections, Pennsylvania was a competitive swing state. But in all three US House election years since, the partisan split of the results has been completely unchanged: 13 Republicans have won, and just 5 Democrats have. (This was a particularly stunning result in 2012, when Barack Obama won statewide, and Democratic candidates won more votes in House elections than Republicans did.)

As far back as 2011, Sean Trende of RealClearPolitics suggested Pennsylvania’s map could be “the gerrymander of the decade.” And a 2017 report by the Brennan Center concluded that Pennsylvania, Michigan, and North Carolina’s House maps had “the most extreme levels of partisan bias” in the country, and estimated that Pennsylvania delivered Republicans three or four extra seats on average.

The Pennsylvania GOP’s congressional delegation is already in turmoil

All this is unfolding during a difficult time for Pennsylvania House Republicans.

  • Rep. Tim Murphy (R) of the 18th district resigned when news broke that the pro-life lawmaker had asked a woman he was having an affair with to have an abortion. The special election there is set for March 13 (and will proceed as scheduled despite the court ruling). It’s a strongly Republican district, but the GOP fears they could lose the seat to the Democratic nominee, Conor Lamb, a Marine veteran and former prosecutor.
  • Rep. Pat Meehan (R) of the 7th district used taxpayer dollars to settled a misconduct complaint from a former aide who complained he made unwanted overtures toward her, the New York Times reported Saturday.
  • Rep. Charlie Dent (R) of the 15th district, a frequent critic of Donald Trump and co-chair of the Tuesday Group, is retiring.

Now, news of a potential new map scrambles all this. Members of Congress representing a district, or challengers planning to run against them, may find out they’re suddenly in an entirely different district. Some incumbent members of Congress could end up being put in the same district.

A Democratic governor, and a Democratic-controlled Supreme Court, have veto power over the new map. So the new map will likely be a major help to Democrats’ efforts to retake the House in 2018.

Considering just how important the Pennsylvania gerrymander has been for Republicans’ control of the House — again, it probably gives them 3 to 4 seats more than they’d get with neutral maps — this ruling, should it hold, is probably one of the best pieces of news House Democrats could get.


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