Am I the only one who is worried about Sarah Palin? On the campaign trail, she has been attacking the Presidential candidate from the other party (which apparently is the job of the V.P. candidate), trying to tie him to terrorists and asking, “Who is this guy who does not think like us? Who does not share our values?”
Huh?
That “guy” has been on the campaign trail for almost two years now. That “guy” has gone through a highly competitive primary election process to win the nomination of his party. He has been screened and vetted and has weathered scandal (i.e., Reverend Wright among others). He has written two books and numerous books have been written about him.
I’ve got a better question the American people should be asking. Who the heck is Sarah Palin?
Is she a hockey mom who happened to have the grit, charisma and intelligence to hold the highest office in the State of Alaska as she appeared to be at the Republican Convention? Or is she the fumbling, seemingly clueless and in-over-her-head neophyte as she appeared in her interviews with Charlie Gibson and Katie Couric? Or perhaps she is a one-issue (energy) Republican automaton spouting canned answers to unrelated questions and a bit snarky when feeling defensive, as she appeared in the V.P. debate with Joe Biden.
Will the real Sarah Palin please stand up? Please stand up! (My humble apologies to Eminiem). A bit ironic as McCain is currently getting flak for not securing permission by the Foo Fighters and other artists to use their songs in his campaign.
And if permitted, a follow-up question. Why is it that when transparency through media access is being courted by everyone else involved in this election, Ms. Palin has been tucked away? Her media and public appearances carefully vetted? Inaccessible when everyone else is begging for media attention? (At this point, I picture The Rock with his signature well-groomed eyebrow raised in askance.)
Then there is the conclusion of the recent investigation by the Alaskan bi-partisan commission that began before McCain announced Palin as his V.P. pick. They determined Palin violated an Alaska’s ethics law by abusing her Executive power by firing a State official for personal (familial) reasons, although there were no recommendations for sanctions or criminal prosecution. There are also the stories coming out of Alaska about how Palin’s modus operandi when stepping into a new position seems to be getting rid of those she perceives (accurately or not) as threats and hiring people loyal and grateful to her, although they may not have been as qualified.
I am also concerned about her naked ambition. I think her nickname is “Sarah Barracuda” for a good reason (as I am SweetlyDemure for a good reason). It was pointed out to me that all politicians are ambitious. But, I hope most people go into politics because they want to make a difference, to make changes to improve the lives of their constituents; and their aspiration for higher office is to be in a better position to affect those changes. This may seem naïve, but I am hoping they at least start out this way.
Here’s something I wrote in a “comment” section about Palin after watching the V.P. debate:
It was sooooo irritating and frustrating watching that VP debate! Palin could have been in a room talking to herself and it would have looked exactly the same. They could have just spliced Biden and Ifill in later. Ugh. Let’s talk about economics and the candidates’ plan in this time of crisis…then we get Palin’s canned lecture on energy. Whaaat? It was literally painful.
And the response of the American people? A higher percentage of them think she’s ready to lead. Huh? Were they listening to the same debate? I think people heard her tone of voice, a few folksy platitudes and her canned, rehearsed rhetoric and did not realize that she was not answering the questions put to her.
The worry for the Dems was that Biden would come across too bulldog-ish and if anything, he was too soft. He should have put a little more pressure on her, it might have rattled her a bit. In fact, Palin came across as confrontational and kind of snarky when she made the “white flag” comment in response to Biden’s call for a timetable to get the troops out of Iraq. (One of the few times she actually responded to something!) And also when she corrected Biden on the mantra “Drill Baby, Drill” or whatever. Hello, she couldn’t even get the name of the General leading our troops in Afghanistan correct and Biden didn’t rub her face in it…he didn’t even mention it. I think she called him “McClennan” when it’s “McKiernan.” Bleh. And after some fact checking, he (McKiernan) did say that the surge tactics used in Iraq would not work in Afghanistan (like Biden pointed out and Palin contradicted).
Another telling moment occurred when the candidates answered the question about the (Constitutional) role of the V.P. I seriously wonder (I’m not being facetious) if Sarah Palin has read the Constitution in its entirety. Cheney’s attempt to “expand” the VP position to the Legislative Branch and still maintain Executive Branch privileges is ridiculous and clearly contrary to the whole idea of separation/balance of powers. Ugh. (For those who didn’t see the debate, Palin was for Cheney’s unconstitutional and self-aggrandizing illogic and Biden answered quite correctly that the VP role in the Senate is clearly drawn in the Constitution and that the role of VP is firmly situated in the Executive Branch).
A final thing worth noting was Palin’s answer to Katie Couric about what VP she admires the most. She said George HW Bush because he learned as VP and “moved on up” (or something like that). No matter what happens in this election, she’s in it for 2012, I’m sure. That woman is ambitious. Ambitious and inexperienced and (perhaps?) too ignorant to know she doesn’t know enough. Either that or her ambition far outweighs any concern about that. No matter which way it is, it’s scary for us, the American people. (FYI, Biden’s answer was Lyndon Johnson).
Sarah Palin concerns me. I think Matt Damon likened her nomination as a Disney movie gone absurdly bad. Let’s keep the movies in Hollywood (and Alaska) where they belong and out of Washington, D.C. There is enough absurdity going on there already.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Writing Woes
What is it about writing that makes it so personal even when the content itself is not remotely personal?
I understand the feelings of ownership and protectiveness when writing something that involves some kind of intimate insight, experience or feeling, like poetry or a story, or the authorship of anything that took a lot of time, resources and creative effort. But what about writing something as impersonal and mundane as committee minutes, an audit report or policies and procedures?
I like to think of myself as an open-minded person, who welcomes, nay embraces, constructive criticism, and uses it to grow and improve. I do not like to think of myself as the kind of person who becomes protective when challenged, and automatically (i.e., unthinkingly) becomes defensive upon any hint of others correcting my writing.
Notice I said this is the way I would like to think of myself, rather than this is the way I actually am. Just when I am buying into the delusion that I am sincerely open to critical suggestions, something happens to remind me that I have yet to reach that pinnacle of self-actualization.
One example is a script I wrote for a church cantata. Some kind of narration was needed to tie the seven or eight chosen songs together and I was asked to do it. I spent some time writing a script to make the flow of songs cohesive and meaningful. While I did generate effort to write this script, it was not like this was my life’s work and that I sweat blood and poured all my artistic juices into crafting it. I probably wrote two or three hurried drafts before handing it over.
In most cases, I realize that once a script is “handed over,” the writer ceases to have even a modicum of control over it. Various people can change your words, your stage directions and your meaning without your consent, much less consulting you. I thought I was okay with that. I thought I would be fine even if there were massive changes to the script. I was fooling myself. When I actually saw the performance, I mentally noted every change. Some characters were lumped together; lines were deleted, modified or added; blocking, stage direction and other nuances were altered. I realized that for the most part, I did not like these changes.
Then, I realized I liked it even less when one of the people in charge of the cantata mentioned offhandedly to me, “I hope you don’t mind, but the Director made some changes to improve the flow of the skit.”
“Oh no,” I replied gritting my mental teeth, “as long as it makes a better performance.” What a big faker I am. I desperately wanted to mean those words as I felt them leave my mouth. Alas! Alack! I hope wishing to be a better person counts for something.
More recently, I was the lead writer for a Report at work. My co-workers contributed, but I did a significant amount of the writing. Today my boss wants one of my co-workers to “tighten up the language;” and the way he made it sound (and from his expression), I do not think these will be minute changes. I said that was fine, but I preferred the changes be made on the side (as comments) rather than to just change the text, so I would know what parts did not work for them. I may be paranoid, but from their furtive glances to one another, I think they want to do some major over-hauling.
The professional in me wants to be fine with all this, but rather I feel annoyed, irritated, somewhat insulted, and frankly, petty for feeling this way. Despite my best efforts to feel and be otherwise, I am taking this personally.
But why? Why am I taking this so personally? Maybe because this was the third draft and I really felt it was ready to go (albeit with some minor tweaking). I mean, if they wanted some major changes, then why did they not bring this up earlier? Or did they mention it and I failed to appropriately address it in the report?
Perhaps the root of this comes from my core belief that I am a good writer. I am self-aware enough to realize that I am a bad, even horrible speller, as well as a poor grammartarian and punctuationalist (I know they are not words, but I am taking some creative license here), but despite these handicaps, still a good writer. And when I say good writer, I know I am not great, but good, as in better than over half the population (which would be “average.”)
Now, an uncharitable (e.g., discriminating) reader may think at this point, “nothing I have read thus far convinces me that this person is as good a writer as she thinks she is.” Ahhh, therein lies the problem. Maybe that is where I have gone wrong. I have an inflated view of my abilities.
Well, some time has passed and the Report for work was finalized and distributed. The overhaul was as minor as an overhaul can be. I mean, by its very nature, an overhaul means to change much. All in all, it was not as bad as I had envisioned. To be honest, it still chafes a bit, though. Like thick thighs encased in corduroy. It chafes.
I understand the feelings of ownership and protectiveness when writing something that involves some kind of intimate insight, experience or feeling, like poetry or a story, or the authorship of anything that took a lot of time, resources and creative effort. But what about writing something as impersonal and mundane as committee minutes, an audit report or policies and procedures?
I like to think of myself as an open-minded person, who welcomes, nay embraces, constructive criticism, and uses it to grow and improve. I do not like to think of myself as the kind of person who becomes protective when challenged, and automatically (i.e., unthinkingly) becomes defensive upon any hint of others correcting my writing.
Notice I said this is the way I would like to think of myself, rather than this is the way I actually am. Just when I am buying into the delusion that I am sincerely open to critical suggestions, something happens to remind me that I have yet to reach that pinnacle of self-actualization.
One example is a script I wrote for a church cantata. Some kind of narration was needed to tie the seven or eight chosen songs together and I was asked to do it. I spent some time writing a script to make the flow of songs cohesive and meaningful. While I did generate effort to write this script, it was not like this was my life’s work and that I sweat blood and poured all my artistic juices into crafting it. I probably wrote two or three hurried drafts before handing it over.
In most cases, I realize that once a script is “handed over,” the writer ceases to have even a modicum of control over it. Various people can change your words, your stage directions and your meaning without your consent, much less consulting you. I thought I was okay with that. I thought I would be fine even if there were massive changes to the script. I was fooling myself. When I actually saw the performance, I mentally noted every change. Some characters were lumped together; lines were deleted, modified or added; blocking, stage direction and other nuances were altered. I realized that for the most part, I did not like these changes.
Then, I realized I liked it even less when one of the people in charge of the cantata mentioned offhandedly to me, “I hope you don’t mind, but the Director made some changes to improve the flow of the skit.”
“Oh no,” I replied gritting my mental teeth, “as long as it makes a better performance.” What a big faker I am. I desperately wanted to mean those words as I felt them leave my mouth. Alas! Alack! I hope wishing to be a better person counts for something.
More recently, I was the lead writer for a Report at work. My co-workers contributed, but I did a significant amount of the writing. Today my boss wants one of my co-workers to “tighten up the language;” and the way he made it sound (and from his expression), I do not think these will be minute changes. I said that was fine, but I preferred the changes be made on the side (as comments) rather than to just change the text, so I would know what parts did not work for them. I may be paranoid, but from their furtive glances to one another, I think they want to do some major over-hauling.
The professional in me wants to be fine with all this, but rather I feel annoyed, irritated, somewhat insulted, and frankly, petty for feeling this way. Despite my best efforts to feel and be otherwise, I am taking this personally.
But why? Why am I taking this so personally? Maybe because this was the third draft and I really felt it was ready to go (albeit with some minor tweaking). I mean, if they wanted some major changes, then why did they not bring this up earlier? Or did they mention it and I failed to appropriately address it in the report?
Perhaps the root of this comes from my core belief that I am a good writer. I am self-aware enough to realize that I am a bad, even horrible speller, as well as a poor grammartarian and punctuationalist (I know they are not words, but I am taking some creative license here), but despite these handicaps, still a good writer. And when I say good writer, I know I am not great, but good, as in better than over half the population (which would be “average.”)
Now, an uncharitable (e.g., discriminating) reader may think at this point, “nothing I have read thus far convinces me that this person is as good a writer as she thinks she is.” Ahhh, therein lies the problem. Maybe that is where I have gone wrong. I have an inflated view of my abilities.
Well, some time has passed and the Report for work was finalized and distributed. The overhaul was as minor as an overhaul can be. I mean, by its very nature, an overhaul means to change much. All in all, it was not as bad as I had envisioned. To be honest, it still chafes a bit, though. Like thick thighs encased in corduroy. It chafes.
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