Out with the old...

Dear friends:

I'm shutting this blog down effective immediately. The reason: mrmayday.com, a flashy new website where you can find my scribblings on politics, general interest, and old clips I've put up online. I hope you enjoy.

Post-Election Article Revelations

So the general election is finally over. Nearly $1 billion dollars in outside money, lots of stress, lots of duress, and lots of patience were spent only to keep, essentially, the same government. So what happens now? The necessities. Get ready to hear the terms "fiscal cliff," "compromise," "taxes," and my favorite, "middle class America". Perhaps "Iran" should be thrown in for good measure.

Anyways, here're a few pieces I put together on the direct implications of the elections and the various issues you'll likely be hearing about over the coming months:

• Colorado and Washington Legalize Marijuana, But Federal Battle Looms.
• Boehner Extends Offer On Fiscal Cliff.
• The Election's Biggest Winner: A Man Named Nate Silver.
• Citizens United: The Biggest Non-Issue Ever, Maybe.
• Puerto Rico Approves Statehood, But Is It A Tease?

Hope you enjoy, hope you're informed, and above all, I hope continue to participate in this other term called "political discourse".

 

Don't Vote, Lobby

Via Wrong Tees

The New York Times posted an interesting op-ed by famed documentarian Errol Morris. The interesting aspect isn't his opinion, but rather his short video demanding voters to theoretically argue why they wouldn't vote:

... They told me that many of the issues they care about — climate change, civil rights, the war on drugs, immigration, prison reform — are not discussed by Democrats or Republicans. That there is such a gulf between what candidates say they will do, and what they do, that it’s impossible to trust anyone. That apathy is actually supported by the evidence.

Regardless of the above, Morris and his interviewees go on to champion the virtues and importance of voting (supreme court appointments, first vote, meeting a love interest), appealing almost entirely to pathos. Fair enough. Unfortunately, none dwell too long on why voting may actually not be worth the time. This lighthearted treatment of the reasons behind not voting is bothersome for a few reasons, chief being Morris and company's perpetuation of the nigh fanatical reverence for voting. Voting, beyond the banal reasons listed, really isn't worth your time, nor is it a truly effective way to affect government. One young lady with large glasses describes voting as "a cheap thrill." She's right. That's all it is.

First, the time factor: Let's assume that your vote actually does account for something, and that everything was decided by popular vote. Okay, so one vote, one person. Here your vote has a measurable impact. On the national scale your voice roughly measures one in 311,591,917 (give or take a few ten thousand). On the state scale it can range from one in half a million, to one in 37 million. Okay, so maybe your voice don't stand out too much, but that's not the point, is it? It's to cooperate with others to get your candidate into office and speak your collective voice. Let's say your candidate doesn't get into office. Your effort, from justifying your decisions to time invested, accounted for naught. You sent no message. Your voice accounted for nothing.

But say your candidate does get into office and they argue and advocate for everything you want them to. Great. Only, now they have to deal with other legislators, most who're opposed to your candidate and your wants and needs. Well, your guy has become a Congressional wallflower — meek, ignored, and, worst of all, lacking any means of impact. Well, that's what your vote amounts to.

But let's say your candidate gets in, has your interests truly in mind and gets along with his or her fellow legislators. Great, right? They are the perfect politician — job finished. Not so fast. Your candidate is going to get buried under a series of messages from special interests advocating for their vote on a variety of issues ranging from gay rights to reducing the use of paper in the federal government. Your candidate may be influenced to vote against your interests. Your candidate may, from your perspective, be misinformed on a given issue. Or your candidate, perhaps worst of all, could act contrary to what they campaigned on. Your candidate, as the tired cliche goes, turned their back on you. Not much you can do till the next election, right?

Wrong.

There are a variety of issue-based organizations, both state-wide and nation-wide, whose job is to inform, guide, provide arguing points, and corral legislators into coalitions to vote for in the interests of residents. These, we like to call lobbyists (they range from non-profits, think-tanks, advocacy organizations, unions, and businesses to the comically vilified K-street lawyers). The truth is that lobbyists aren't inherently bad; they make an efficient use of resources to prioritize and maximize the voice of people who care to influence Congress and the President beyond just one day in a two-year cycle (yes, midterm elections count). They do this at the behest of the most dreaded special interest group — people like you.

Care about gay rights? Well, the Human Rights Campaign would love to hear from you. Like your Internet freedom? So does the Electronic Frontier Foundation. Civil Liberties fan? Donate to the American Civil Liberties Union. Gun nut? National Rifle Association. Don't want to see manufacturing jobs shipped overseas? I think the United Auto Workers would like to have a word. Believe in the right to worship God? So does the American Christian Lobbyists Association. You can donate to support a single issue, or you can give them money all year long. Doesn't matter. You may even get a tax credit depending on how you support them. Don't like what one of them says or does? Simple, tell them you're upset and take your money elsewhere. Heck, you could likely get a group of similar-thinking people and directly lobby yourself. There are options.

Each of these organizations lobby in some form, and each organization looks to influence which issue lawmakers tackle next. By giving your money and attention to these organizations you're effectively voting for which issues garner more attention on the Hill. That alone is more effective than any vote in a general election.

One woman in Morris' mini-documentary speaks of voting as "... this thing we only get to do once in four years." She couldn't be more wrong. This thing goes on every single day in every single state. It's up to you to participate. If you want to vote, fine. It's great that you want to participate in something, but it's just wrong to think of voting as both a moral obligation and your only chance to participate in government.

Time to fire up the 'ole blog again.

It's been a while. Expect more posts, developments in journalism, politics and culture in the coming days. I promise.

 

So, this again.

I've set up shop in D.C. for the summer. So expect more posts coming in from the Daily Caller, and the things I've neglected to post from the Collegian. I swear.

Maple Tea in Canada

I’ve been spending the past few days in Canada with Maddie and her family. It’s nice, quiet, and relaxing. They make their own maple syrup. It’s good.

We, Maddie, her three brothers, and myself, went out to the backwoods to gather sap from the maple trees. It’s a bit odd to walk around and see a dozen small tin buckets latched to trees with little roofs on top of their rims, but you instantly know what they are and what they’re for.

I didn’t know that syrup, and by syrup I mean sap, looks like water before being refined to that sugary substance we put on our pancakes. I also didn’t know that maple syrup, at least homemade maple syrup, is a tasty addition to tea. I’ve grown fond of this mix lately -- it’s sweeter than sugar and adds a distinct flavor without overpowering the tea. It's nice.

Homemade maple syrup is typically made in a shed. The Pascoe’s isn’t. It’s made in their garage with two large pots holding 60 liters, nearly 32 gallons combined. Normally, according to Mr. Pascoe, there’d be a long pan stove heated by wood in a long shed. He said the pan stove allows water in the sap to evaporate quicker. 

The Pascoe’s wait until enough water evaporates from their pots before they empty one into the other. They skim the foam off the top of the sap, wait, skim again, wait, skim again, pour one pot into the other and fill the empty pot with more sap. Out of 120 liters of maple sap they may get three and a half liters; 19 hours of work for just under a gallon. But the syrup is good and worth the work. Especially when it's in tea.

The Kickers

It's a late night at the Collegian, so I decided to occupy myself by recalling this scene weeks ago. Leave comments and criticisms, if you please.

The sidewalks are too icy, so I walk in the middle of the street to get back home. The storm did a number on the town, knocking out power for a week. It created a nomadic group of off-campus students seeking warmth wherever they could find it – old dorms, old homes, couches in the Union, wherever. I've managed to survive in the Suites for the past four days. But I need to change my clothes, forcing my body to endure a house which makes the outdoors feel warm and inviting. I do not look forward to the cold.

So I trudge home, glaring at the ground and grit at my bad luck. BAM-BAM! BAM-BAM, BAM! BAM!

The noise came from two kids kicking the side of a steel shed to my right. BAM-BAM! The small one, no older than 7, took an extra swipe. He missed and nearly fell backwards. He carefully balanced on his grounded leg, like a bad figure skater. The older one, the wiser one, laid out the attack strategy: kick the shed at any cost. BAM!

The small one regained his composure and jumped back into the fray. BAM-BAM!

The shed, with a hat of snow and concrete foundation, stood stoic, indifferent to the war waging on its side.

What the hell? 

I kept walking to my house, but as I went the two developed a new method of warfare. A flank. The older one instructed the small one to head to the shed's western side, while he attacks the eastern wall. 

The small one eagerly ran around. BAM! POW!

BAM! POW!...Bam-Bam!...Pow!

As so goes Hillsdale when there's no power.

I reach my house and unlock the door. I can still hear them in the distance...bam!..pow!...bam!

“People here need to get out more,” I think. I go inside, and brace my body for the cold.