Possum or Pussy?

In the short time we’ve had to digest the results of the mid-term elections, we’ve been told the widely predicted Republican gains in the Senate and takeover of the House represent a tsunami, a tidal wave, a juggernaut--a paradigm shift of epic proportions that indicates the end of Obama’s presidency and almost certainly the end of liberalism.

The White House will fly the ‘Don’t Tread on Me’ flag, Ayn Rand will be enshrined as a national saint, and the repeal of the 20th century can begin in earnest. Say goodbye to the 40-hour workweek, civil rights protections, minimum wage laws, social security, Medicare, and all regulations ever on all industry and banking. We will invade Iran, North Korea and China, and make America great again.

Hell, we might even bring back Prohibition.

Come to think of it, women have been mighty uppity since they got the right to vote. Lots of them broads voted for the black guy in 2008. Might have to look into that whole 19th Amendment thingee while we’re at it.

But let’s set aside for a moment the hyperbole and empty, triumphalist, wish-fulfillment horseshit coming from formerly down-and-out Red-Staters--white guys who felt humiliated and threatened by a black man in 2008. Also, for now, let’s ignore sober analysis by political science types who say that, given all the negatives the Dems were fighting against, historically the Republicans should have done much better. If it weren’t for the fact that they too are in utter disarray and have no actual plan for improving the state of the union, and if it weren’t for Sarah Proud and Dumb anointing several thugs and lunatics as candidates of choice for the discerning teabagger, they could have taken the Senate too.

So, given all that, what could the bright lights inside the Obama administration be thinking?

What’s next for Team Bobo?

Convincing this...woman?...that's he's not the anti-christ.

It's not cuz he's black. It's cuz he's a mooslim.

Obviously for teabagger types and other Astroturf-blinded ‘populists,’ those poor spellers inexplicably screaming for tax cuts for people making over $250,000 a year and the end of government--all while they tool around on Medicaid-provided Rascal scooters--the answer to that question would involve some mass suicide pact wherein all Democrats and other filthy librul types repented the error of their ways and decided to end their shame in a massive conflagration, a biblically appropriate cleansing by fire:

Led by Jon Stewart, all those fake Americans--the ones who voted for Democrats--would gather on the White House lawn and pray to the god of Abraham for forgiveness while holding hands and singing one last round of Kumbayah beneath the drawn, quartered, and hanged corpses of Keith Olbermann and Rachel Maddow, their viscera dangling gently in the breeze. Then the stoning would commence, obese teabaggers bussed in by Fox News from the hinterlands scooching their Rascals closer to get a better view of the slaughter, drool trickling from their mouths as they wheeze and pant, struggling to heave even small pebbles with their flabby, useless arms, conditioned only by masturbation and clicking back and forth from Fox News to the home shopping channel. Finally, a moat of BP oil surrounding the sinners--purchased at full price on the open market, naturally--is ignited from a torch held by Glenn Beck and a Fox News contest winner.

Looks like the rapture happened. At least it'll be quieter around here.

But barring that--and it is my hope that if any conservative types ever read this, the spontaneous orgasm that the above graf will have ignited in their withered, underused genitalia will so alarm them they will be prevented from reading any further--an interesting question arises, especially when one understands that, historically, a party winning the presidency almost always loses seats in the House and Senate in the following mid-term:

Is Obama playing possum? Or has he simply bent over so many times for big money at the behest of Rahm Emmanuel and David Axelrod that he’s grown Chicago-sized calluses in and around his asshole?

Because here’s the thing: strictly from a political perspective, this mid-term loss might be the best thing that’s happened to him since the inauguration. Simply in terms of Obama’s potential to get re-elected, this mid-term result could be a good thing.

Notwithstanding what the point of his re-election might be from a progressive perspective.

But given his track record, running in 2012 against whomever the Repubs might nominate--and given their recent bent for placating the crazies, it could be pretty much anyone--Obama is going to look downright statesmanlike.

Maybe they'll nominate this...woman?

Democrats are drooling at the thought that the teabaggers who will now wish to be taken seriously by the establishment Republicans (they won’t be) will insist on nominating some fiery, family values lunatic from whom moderates will flee. As retarded as many of my fellow Americans seem to have become lately, even we wouldn’t put an idiot and a quitter and a white-trash, charlatan grifter like Sarah Palin in charge.

For chrissakes, tell me that’s true.

Also, Americans love an underdog. A couple years of Republican arrogance and overreach (as if THAT ever happens) might just be what Obama needs to get people behind him again.

The other set of potentials this election ‘defeat’ sets up for the dems is running against two years of bad management of the House in 2012. John Boehner, the HOLIC (that’s Head Oompa-Loopa In Charge; Snookie can be his Number Two; Tila Tequila a mini-Oompa Loompa mascot he keeps on a thin, golden chain) is a wholly-owned subsidiary of big money. There is no way he can grant the teabaggers even a tiny portion of their wish list, not really, not more than crumbs. Expect to see lots of sturm und drang, many, many subpoenas flying about and empty hearings on all sorts of bullshit (please o please o please hold a hearing on Obama’s birth certificate, please?) but when it comes to actual legislation, the House isn’t going to be able to pass jack shit, nothing of import. Certainly not anything that will get through the Senate.

John Boehner and friends.

And speaking of the Senate. Senators have to play ball even more closely with big money if they want to hold on to their seats and get plum committee assignments. Rand Paul is a perfect of example of this transformation, though his was incredibly rapid: suddenly earmarks are acceptable. Raising the debt ceiling might be okay. (And of course, don’t forget that despite all his anti-gubbmint rhetoric, Mr. Paul is a huge fan of government handouts, in the form of Medicaid payments to opthamologists.) Now a part of government, he’s a big-government guy all the way.

As to whether street-level anti-government activist types--the ones who hate America so much they want to change the Constitution or spark a revolt against its democratically elected leaders--whether they will see through the smoke and mirrors, that’s another question. But the biggest challenge is going to be getting the Obama White House to see that playing footsie with the Republicans gets them nowhere--unless playing concubine to the big, big money had been their desired address all along.

In which case an added benefit of the Republican gains is that now the Dems can point to the House as the reason they can’t fulfill the liberal wish list they promised in 2008. Meanwhile they can continue to give the healthcare, financial, pharmaceutical, military and oil industries everything they want while dangling another round of empty promises for liberals:

‘...but if you re-elect me in 2012, and we take back the House, I promise, really, really promise, and I mean it this time, no fooling, pinky-swear, that this time around I really will shut down Guantanamo, and end Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, and end the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and rein in the bankers, and watch closely for oil spills...besides, look at the alternative!’

And on the other side of the aisle, envision two years of teabagger disillusionment when Boehner, who is already downplaying the significance of the mid-terms, can’t get anything done, and spins away from truly embracing teabagger ideals. Imagine the internal Republican wars over who gets the nod in 2012. Imagine Obama standing above all that as all the hatred and frustration and ugliness erupts and the Republicans turn on one another.

I'm not saying Obama's people planned it this way, but there are worse places for an incumbent president to be.

All of this may very well just be liberal wish-fulfillment, a fantasy in which I hope that the man who fired up so many people two years ago with talk of change hasn’t been completely co-opted by the money machine that runs Washington. Maybe I am foolishly hoping against hope that the Harvard-educated lawyer isn’t somehow so stupid that he thinks that every first date with the Republicans ought to end with him dropping to his knees for a goodnight blowjob, in the hopes that they might really, really like him:

Boehner guiltily looks up and down the street as he puts away his gnarled, orange Cheeto of a penis, already disgusted with himself.

‘Um, thanks, uh...” he pretends to pat Obama on the shoulder, but covertly wipes his hand on the president’s jacket. ‘Look, uh, I gotta split. Got a prayer breakfast with Billy Graham’s kid in the morning...um...yeah. So...see ya around!’

‘Gosh,’ says a smiling Obama, wiping John Boehner’s rancid, tobacco-reeking jizz from his chin as the limo pulls away from the curb. ‘He really likes me! He’s sure to call again now!’

So here’s hoping Obama is a better tactician than a high school sophomore--although he sure hasn’t proven it yet.

But, Christ, any little sliver of hope looks pretty good right about now.

Maybe dinosaur-riding Jesus can save us.
Nah, probably not even him.

###

Boulder International Fringe Festival 2010

Fred Blanco as Cesar Chavez in his one-man show at BIFF 2010

Here's my latest piece from the Post. (Full text below.)

I can't express enough how much fun this event is. This is my second year covering the festival and I had a blast both times, even though I was under the deadline gun and had to race home that night to write it up. I can only imagine having an entire evening to check out different pieces, leisurely strolling around town rather than racing from venue to venue to catch as much as possible.

The shows are mostly $5-$10 and if you pick and choose well, they are worth it. The great thing about most of these shows is the electricity of not knowing what to expect, and the live edginess of seeing people about to step off the cliff in something they have created and which they feel passionate about.

Personally, I would rather pay $5 for an hour of weird but top-quality theatre than pay $20 for three hours of a 'meh' reinterpretation of a 'meh' show that's been around for decades or more.

Fringe Fesitval's Time-Tripping Is Well Worth the Journey

Things aren't quite normal here.

The first indication is Howard Petrick, decked out in his peace-sign-emblazoned World War II-era helmet to promote his show, "Rambo: The Missing Years."

The second is that everyone in line at the Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art seems to know everyone else; the first full night of performances at the 2010 Boulder International Fringe Festival is a chance for performers to catch each others shows, and there's a joyful camaraderie in the air.

This year, the festival is geographically sprawling, adding a "Bring Your Own Venue" opportunity as far away as Settlers' Park at the western end of Canyon Boulevard. Luckily, Boulder is the definition of a bike-friendly town, with a mad jumble of signs, flashing lights, and painted lines screeching hysterically at drivers from every corner. Otherwise the odyssey from the park to, say, Wesley Chapel, across from Folsom Field, could be prohibitive.

Still, it's worth the trek up Folsom Street to see "The Stories of Cesar Chávez," a one-man show performed by veteran Los Angeles actor Fred Blanco. Set in 1968 during one of Chávez's fasts in solidarity with striking farm workers, the show is a powerful homage to a brave, humble man.

But it's also potent social commentary that resonates with today's headlines. It serves as a discussion on immigration and an alternative to the xenophobic fear-mongering coming out of Arizona — and lately, New York and Washington.

Blanco slips effortlessly into various characters: a young, zoot-suited Chávez; an ancient abuela, her body broken from decades in the fields; a fiery revolutionary; a redneck strikebreaker.

This is one of those rare one-person shows in which the character shifts don't seem contrived. You find yourself forgetting the primary voice of Chávez until Blanco straightens his bent legs and back and unscrunches the old woman's face back to his own.

Also playing at the Wesley is an experimental work called "The Lovinator," a rock musical/dance piece that tells the story of an otherworldly hero who comes to Earth, a pirate named Captain Jesus. Through live vocals, guitar and bass, and backed with computer-recorded rhythm tracks, a six-person ensemble dances and sings its way through his story, which bears similarities to another well-known chronicle about a guy named Jesus.

The story is rather weird and muddled; of course, when it comes to religion, that's never really been a problem before. And there are some beautiful dance pieces, with striking manipulation of a plaster head representing the pirate/savior.

The music borrows shamelessly from influences like Frank Zappa, Prince, every 1970s musical about Jesus ever, and "Hedwig and the Angry Inch," but you don't really mind, especially when the ensemble busts out in haunting but humorous four-part harmony on a well- known 1980s song.

Another show gaining buzz is "Moxie," which tells three stories of women working in the entertainment business spanning the 20th century, performed and written by Alana Eve Burman and Teresa Sparks (Fringe Festival director and administrative director, respectively).

It starts a little slow, with Penelope working in a production office during the silent-film era, backed by portentous piano music and dialogue slides explicating her story. But once we roll into the 1940s "Movietone News" section of the piece, it gets much funnier.

Using the conceit of wartime newsreels, Burman plays Eugenia, an aspiring tuba player in a USO band, as well as characters commenting on her halting climb to stardom.

Burman has excellent comic chops, and she is able to slip unnoticed from the sharp-elbowed patter of a 1940s announcer to the breathless, slightly lunatic exuberance of 1950s television as Erica, a phone-bank operator for an Atlanta news show, taking phone tips from callers.

She not-so-secretly wants to be an on-air reporter and disastrously wangles her way into covering a story on a man so good-looking he causes traffic accidents on a daily basis.

No, things are not normal here. But if you ask most people at the Fringe Festival, they'll tell you normal is vastly overrated.

The Boulder Fringe Festival runs through Sunday at venues across the city. Prices are reasonable and vary, and multiple-show passes are available. Check the website at boulderfringe.com for details.