Publish Or Die

Hello, and welcome to today's blog. You're really in for a treat this time because, after many phone calls and much intense negotiation, I'm really excited to announce that I'll be bringing you a live interview with presumptive Republican presidential nominee John McCain. Yes, you heard me right - a 'live" interview with Senator McCain, with the emphasis on "live". That's the trend these days, you know - blogging live while the event is taking place. It introduces a whole new dynamic to blogging because with live, as-it-happens blogging, the fact that I'm here blogging about something is now just as newsworthy as the event itself. At last the writer is of equal importance to the subject being written about, or, dare I say, maybe even more important? God, I love this modern age.

Anyway, I've got my MacBook and I'm now making my way to Senator McCain's hotel suite. Come along with me as I blog it "live".

That must be his room up there. I'll have to put down my computer for a moment as I make my way through security.

...

There, that was easy. Now, I'll just check in with the receptionist and let the Senator know I'm here.

"Hello, I'm here to see Senator McCain."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes, it's Myers. M-Y-E-R-S."

"Mr. Meyers, hmm...."

"No, Myers. m-Y-e-r-s."

"Of course. Mr. Myers."

"Yes, that's right."

"What organization are you with?"

"I'm a blogger. An independent voice for truth."

"Yes, one moment please."

(She's calling someone on the phone. Probably wants to verify my credentials.)

"Mr. Myers?"

"Yes?"

"I'm terribly sorry but the Senator is currently taking a nap. He won't be giving any interviews this afternoon."

"What?"

"I'm terribly sorry."

"He can't do that. I had an appointment. It took me two weeks to set this up. I'm blogging this live to the internet! What do you mean he's taking a nap?"

"The Senator has a very busy schedule. Perhaps..."

"Uh-uh. No way. You can't blow me off like that. Don't you know who I am? I'm the PRESS! The fourth estate. The voice of the people. You can't just turn me away and say you're sorry."

"Mr. Myers..."

"Do you know the kind of power I have? You're making a serious mistake here Ms. what's-your-name. A very serious mistake."

"Please, Mr. Myers. Hold your voice down. The Senator is trying to ..."

(A door is opening and now a tall, impeccably groomed man enters the room)

"Susan, what's going on out here?"

"This man says he has an interview with the Senator and I tried to explain to him that the Senator is not granting any interviews today."

(The man is turning and giving me his most genuine fake smile. Now he's holding out his hand and offering me a handshake. I compose myself and shake his hand)

"I'm Doug Peters, Senator McCain's assistant. Is there something I can help you with?"

"I had an appointment and now I'm being told that the Senator won't see me. It took me a long time to set this up and I..."

"I understand. Unfortunately Senator McCain has had a very busy day and a long night ahead and needs to get some rest right now. I'm really sorry about that, but if you call his office tomorrow morning I'm sure he'll be happy to reschedule for sometime next week."

"Next week? Reschedule? I can't reschedule. I'm blogging this live to the internet. Right now as we speak there are hundreds of millions of anxious voters eager to hear the Senator's positions on the important issues of the day. You can't reschedule that."

"Please, sir, calm down."

"No, you calm down."

"I'm always calm, Mr. Myers. I'm always calm, composed, and polite and I never perspire."

"Never?"

"Never."

"That's so smooth. I've never met anyone as smooth as you before."

"Thank you. Now, if you call the Senator's office tomorrow then..."

"No, I'm not calling anyone. I don't know who you think you're dealing with but I'll have you know that I'm a member of the press. You can't just sweep me under the rug and think that'll be the end of it."

"Are you making a threat, Mr. Myers?"

"No threat. Let's just say I have certain information. Certain information that if it were to be made public might prove rather embarrasing to the Senator."

"Oh, so now you're Walter Winchell or something, is that how it is? Please, don't insult the Senator's intelligence. This isn't 1953, Mr. Myers. It's 2008. If there were any damaging stories out there then you and I know that they'd be all over the internet by now. There are no secrets anymore, and no pretense of civility either, so let's stop playing games, shall we?"

(Damn, he's calling my bluff. This guy is so smooth)

"I have pictures."

"What kind of pictures?"

"High resolution pictures. No fakes."

"And just what's on these pictures?"

"Tell you what. Just check my blog later tonight and you can see for yourself. So long. It's been nice talking to you."

(He's hesitating. Ha, I finally managed to put a scratch in that glossy finish of his.)

"Wait right here."

"Is there a problem?"

(He's going back in the other room. Yeah, the good ol' pictures trick got him. I don't have any pictures, of course, but let's face it, everyone's done something they'd be embarrassed for anyone else to see. Even if there's a perfectly innocent explanation, no one wants to have it show up in pictures. Let that be a lesson to all of you budding young bloggers out there. Uh-oh, he's coming back)

"The Senator will see you, but you only have five minutes. Do we have a deal?"

"Sure. I don't want upset the Senator's schedule."

"Good. Come this way please."

(Alright, I'm finally going to get my interview, and it's going to be live on the internet. This is so cool. I just hope I don't get too famous when the buzz starts making the the rounds. My privacy is very important to me.)

"Have a seat. The Senator will be right with you."

(Hmm...nice place he's staying at. I wonder if we're paying for it or if the Senator's paying out of his own pocket for digs like these. Yeah right. Just bill it to the taxpayer's and have room service send up another bottle of champagne. Speak of the devil, here comes the Senator himself. He looks older without all of his television makeup.)

"Good afternoon Senator McCain. Thank you for seeing me."

"My pleasure Ms. Couric."

"Huh?"

"How are things at CBS?"

(Mr. Smooth interrupts)

"Senator McCain. This gentleman isn't with CBS."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was taking a nap and I'm afraid I'm still a little groggy."

"No problem", I say.

"Well then, which organization are you with, Mr., er,..."

"Myers, Senator, and I'm not with an organization. I'm a blogger, an independent voice of truth."

"Oh, I see."

"In fact I'm blogging this live over the internet as we speak."

"Is that so? I've never heard of live blogging before. This should be interesting."

"Shall we get started?"

"Yes, please."

"Senator McCain, you announced your new health plan today, saying that by increasing competition between health insurers we would make health coverage more affordable for all Americans. How so?"

"It's a simple fact that competition leads to lower prices. Under our current employer sponsered system, health insurers have little incentive to compete since employees are locked into using just one or perhaps two health insurers. Under my plan, we would do away with employer sponsored health plans and move to a more open marketplace where health insurers would be forced to compete with one another over who could offer the best coverage at the lowest prices."

"Your critics have said that your plan would, in effect, have the opposite effect. They say that health insurers would not compete for the most customers, but would instead only compete for the youngest and healthiest customers, leaving the sickest Americans with no coverage and no choices at all. How do you respond to that?"

"America has the finest health care in the world. What my opponents are proposing would be nothing more than a government health plan where the government makes health decisions, and not families."

(Oh brother, here we go. It's the oldest trick in the book. Instead of answering the question I asked he's answering the question that he thinks will work to his best advantage, and hoping that no one notices the difference. Well, I'm not just some rookie blogger and I'm certainly not going to let him get away with that.)

"You didn't answer my question Senator. Quit trying to change the subject."

"I certainly did answer the question, and I think the American people are with me on this. Do we want a government health plan? Do we want some bureaucrat in Washington making vital decisions for us, or should consult with our own doctors and make the decisions that are best for us? Under my health plan families and doctors would make those decisions, and not the government."

(Arrgh...he did it again.)

"Senator, your critics have said that your health plan is really no different than what we have now. In other words, it's a great plan as long as you're not unemployed, uninsured, or sick. If your young and healthy and don't need a health plan then it's great, otherwise you're in trouble because the health insurers don't want to have anything to do with you. What would you say to those critics and to those Americans with chronic, pre-existing conditions who are shut out of the current health care system? Under a universal health plan those people would be covered, but under your plan they'd be screwed. How can you justify a health care system that doesn't take care of the sick?"

(Ha, let's see him squirm his way out of that one)

"Of course we can always make adjustments to help those who cannot get health insurance, but we must also consider the cost. Competition is the only proven way to keep down costs. I believe that by having health insurers compete we can have a more efficient and more affordable health care system for all Americans."

(What did he just say?)

"You mean all healthy Americans, don't you."

"Competition, not big government, will bring down the cost of health care in this country."

(Ok, time to change gears. Maybe the confrontational approach will get something out of him)

"Senator McCain, you were never known as strict ideologue. In fact, in your years in the Senate you've earned the reputation of being somewhat of a maverick in the Republican party. Why are you so wedded to ideology on this issue? The health care system in this country is crazy. People with chronic diseases are not getting the treatment they need, families are facing financial ruin because of exorbidant medical bills, and yet the Republican party still clings to this belief that private health insurance companies, whose overriding incentive is to sell health insurance to those who don't need it and exclude those who do, are doing the best job possible for the American people. How bad does health care have to get before Republicans break with ideology and start looking at the way things really are in this country?"

"On the contrary, I think the Republicans are completely in tune with the American people on this issue. The fact is that most Americans love their health care plan. They don't want the government stepping in and tying up the system with red tape. It may be ideology, but it is an ideology grounded in the fundamental American values of independence and self-reliance."

(Damn, he's good. Now he's accusing me of being unpatriotic)

"Most Americans who have health plans love their health plans, but that's getting to be fewer and fewer Americans these days. You know a lot of employer's don't even offer sick days anymore, let alone health plans. The Republicans don't reflect fundamental American values, they reflect the new American values that say that health care is just another priveledge of the rich, and not a fundamental human right."

(Oh brother, now I sound like a whiner)

"As tempting as it is to believe it, government is not the answer. We can have a private insurance program that works. We must have a private insurance program that works."

"Is that the maverick speaking, or the idealogue?"

"If you'll excuse me I've got a dinner to attend tonight."

"Thank you for your time."

(The Senator has left the room, and now here comes ol' smoothie)

"Well you got your interview. Do you need help finding your way out?"

"Huh, some interview. Just the same old blah-blah-blah."

"What did you think? Did you think you were going to come here and make a reputation for yourself by making a fool out of the Senator?"

"Well...yeah. Isn't that how it's done?"

"The elevator is out that door and to the left. Oh, and by the way, don't let me see you around here again. As far as Senator McCain is concerned, your credentials have just been canceled."

(So that's it. My live blog is in the can and I'm no more famous now than I was when I got out of bed this morning. This journalism is a hard hustle, man, a hard hustle. It's just talk, talk, talk, and nothing ever changes. The rich get richer, the powerful gets stronger, and the independent voice of truth gets strangled and silenced. For all the upheaval it's created, the internet really changes nothing.)

The Duke of Braintree Finds His Guiding Light

"I must be off to Paris now. We cannot defeat the British alone, so I must secure the cooperation of the French."

"But father, what about us?"

"That cannot be helped. My country calls and I must answer her need."

"But what about our needs, father? What about your family?"

"It is not my wish to be away so far from home, but surely you understand I must go. Without aid from the French we are lost."

"Yes father, but at what cost? Is losing your family not too high a price to pay?"

"You look after your mother while I'm away. Be strong my son, as we all shall be strong, for the future or our nation depends on it."

(Oh, man, this John Adams miniseries is great stuff, isn't it? What other TV drama delivers such a mawkish blend of 5th grade history and primetime soap opera. You know, I think I'd like to try to write an episode myself. Just to see if I could do it. Maybe it'd go something like this. )

"I don't know what to say, Abigail. This has never happened to me before."

"It's alright John. You've been under a great deal of stress lately, that's all. You must try to relax."

"Relax? Relax!? While that scoundrel Hamilton sounds the drumbeats of war? He would destroy this nation with his wrackful war with France."

"John you must not think of such things. They tense you up and...and...well, you see what happens."

"For heaven's sake, I'm not a machine Abigail. What would you have me do?"

"Is there no word from Marshall? We may yet have peace with France. I know Thomas would like that."

"Oh would he? No more than to see himself in my place. I'm afraid no peace can salve the bruise which Mr. Jefferson's stubbornness has brought upon this nation."

"He is a man of principle and worthy of admiration. You cannot expect him to compromise his principles."

"No, but as a true patriot I can expect his support. I'm afraid all he has done is turn from me now when I need him the most."

"You speak too harshly of him, John. Surely, if you only understood..."

"You were always fond of Thomas. Too fond, perhaps."

"Don't be silly John. I merely said..."

"Those nights in Paris when you were away. You told me you were nursing a sick friend. Is that really where you were?"

"What are you saying? Do you think I..."

"Yes I remember now. Those walks in the garden, just the two of you. Him, charming as ever and you giggling like a little girl. I saw you two, but I never thought that..."

"Stop it John. I'll hear no more of this foolish talk. I've always like Thomas and have never kept that from you. We are friends, that's all."

"Is it?"

"Yes, friends and nothing more. It's not like you to be envious and jealous, particularly without cause. It's because Thomas favors the rights of states and you the need for a strong federal government that you torment me so."

"Tell me Abigail, and be truthful now. Is Charles really my son?"

(slap)

"He has another mistress. Did you know that Abigail?"

"You're a liar and a jealous old fool."

"No, it's true. Perhaps you've met her. She's the slave girl Sally Hemmings."

"Sl...Sl...Slave girl? Thomas would never...he is too honorable a man."

"Yes, the slave Sally Hemmings. What? Did he not tell you? The esteemed and honorable Mr. Jefferson forgot to mention that. Oh ho, that is rich."

"I've always been faithful to you John. Even on the darkness of nights, though my soul cried with loneliness, and you too busy to even write me a letter. You cannot know the suffering, and now to be paid so cruelly for my tears. What have I ever done to bring on such reprobation? Why do you treat me so?"

"My dear, suffering wife. It is not you. It is France. They would have us pay to ransom our peace. Such insults cannot be borne lightly, and the Congress would have me deliver our reply at the point of a sword, though such a reply would be our ruin. I am fairly vexed by this business and now find myself turning on you. Will you forgive me Abigail?"

(a knock comes on the door)

"Yes, what is it?"

"News from John Quincy, father."

"News? What news?"

(he opens the door and opens the letter)

"What is it John?"

"France has signed the treaty. There is to be peace between our two nations."

"Oh John, it is the news we have been waiting for."

"Yes. The nation is safe and I...I...I feel a new vigor."

"Do you mean..."

"Come here woman."

"Why yes, Mr. President."

Stay tuned for scenes from next weeks episode.

Elegy for the Living

 

Lament

 

What child was this

Who drank black waters

Lying stillborn, breathless

With blood no hotter

Than the cool lump of its unformed clay.

 

Though curiously not in its way lifeless,

Not dead

More a flightless

Bird, or head-

Less snake

Not perfectly lifeless, but dead.

 

Praise

 

All that was promised, now done

A life started and ended

As soon over as begun

For all that was intended

That alone remains

 

Solace

 

Count the days to me now

Feel their bleak, sunless pallor

Everywhere the flat, muddy-brown

Pond of existence grows shallower

And all point is lost to purpose

 

More surface than form

Through some trickery or conceit

It is my life forsworn

All no more than a neat

And appropriate lie.

 

Yes, it was I who drank the black goo

And I the stillborn son

I, the poisoned well who

Can never be done

But to steal the sky of its' glimmer.

Is That All There Is

Oh yeah, the blog. I'd almost forgot about it. Truth is, I was thinking of dropping the blog, and, judging from the thousands of emails I've received demanding its return, it doesn't appear that it would be missed. But be that as it may, the fact is that I like to core dump my consciousness onto the internet every now and then, and in that way, I suppose, this blog is good therapy. So what the hey. As Frank Zappa, the fervently anti-drug musician and composer, once said "I don't need to use alcohol and drugs to get all weird - I was born that way", to which I say "here, here", and offer my blog as proof.

Which places the burden squarely on my shoulders. If you're reading this then I have to assume it's because you have come here expecting something interesting and informative and worthy of your time, and that's really too bad. I'd much prefer you came here because you've got nothing else to do, in which case this blog shouldn't waste any time that would have been otherwise misspent. In either case, whether compelling or frivolous, I suppose I should find something to write about.

How about the economy. That's topical and blogworthy. Are we in a recession or are things just a little slow? And if so, who's to blame ? Is it government or big business? Is it us? Are we to blame? No, let me assure you it's not us. We were just innocent dupes. Just innocent, gas-guzzlin', status seeking, materialistic, maxed-out, consumption-crazed, leverage every last penny in our pockets dupes. If what we were doing was wrong, then America is wrong, and if America is wrong, then someone should have stopped us before it was too late. But they didn't stop us, did they? So now I say it's up to them to make it up to us. Damn, where's my rebate check?

The old saying goes that when someone else loses their job it's a recession, and when you lose your job it's a depression. If that's the case, then I would have to call this a fin-de-siecle. The fin-de-siecle is what they called that time around the end of the 19th century when the fabled era of European excess, opulence and decadance called "La Belle Epoque" came to a violent and bloody end as Europe descended into chaos and a succession of world wars that would eventually collapse the great European empires and rearrange the pecking order of the great world powers. I think we're going through something like that. Nothing serious, just the violent end of the world as we know it. I don't know if the Fed has any kind of fin-de-siecle policy, but I guess another interest rate cut wouldn't hurt.

What bothers me, though, is that if this is the end of an era of opulence and decadence, then how come I didn't get in on any of it. All those years of riches and gaudiness and moral turpitude, and all I got out of it was this lousy 401k. Man, if I would have known it was all coming to an end I would have made more of an effort to be greedier and more promiscuous. All those wasted years, and now, of course, it's too late. You kids in the audience - let that be a lesson to you.

Anyways, what difference does it make now. The question is where do we go from here? Beats me. Time keeps slipping through my hands and I still haven't found my life's purpose or written that libretto or held that woman I dream of every night. Tilted at windmills, that's all I've done. I've just been tilting at windmills.

I did have an idea about doing a video podcast where I'd ride my motorcycle around and visit all the great opera houses of Europe. You know, sort of a travel podcast for opera-loving motorcyclists. I figured it would be a good idea because that way I could combine two of the things I love the best - opera and motorcycling - and maybe make a little coin off of it too. I'll admit it's a bit niche - sort of a combination of Great Performances and Then Came Bronson (anyone old enough to remember that show?), but you know podcasting exists to serve niche markets. It would be perfect, but then I got to thinking, ok, so I ride my bike and go to these opera houses, and then what? Do I look into the camera and say something like "Sure, I scraped a peg or two on the way in, but say, that La Scala is some opera house, ain't it?" Somehow I couldn't see the advertisers lining up to sponsor something like that.

So anyway that was my great idea. I admit I'm not really the entrepeneurial type. I just don't have that sense of the utility of things, that sense of giving the people what they want (take this blog for example). I'm more interested in the things that interest me, I suppose, much to my misfortune. Oh well, I guess we can add "internet media mogul" to the list of job titles never to appear on my resume, along with librettist and promiscuous money monger that is.

Oh, the hubris, the hubris.