MEET THE PRESSURE
Dashed an e-mail to a friend earlier today, and included some comments about Tuesdayís Media-Madness-Posing-as-a-Primary in New Hampshire. After I sent the e-mail, it dawned on me that, gee, that shoulda been on the blog.
So here goes.
Tomorrow night we once again get to watch the pundits and prognosticators engage in the massive eating of the cake and egg on their collective faces. Dean could go back to being front-runner. Edwards could be the new standard bearer.
(more on this later -- just had a mini-crash and have to re-load the content. OOPS!)
OK, I am back, and on to the matter at hand:
Dr. Dean was never the front runnner. Big Media/Press had it wrong. He was the leader in raising money, and he certainly was the head-turner when it came to savvy use of the Net by his staff. But that was it. The media created a message, and that message was that he was the story.
But the story was the money and the internet.
AND THE "W" STANDS FOR . . .
It stands for "What a crock of shit!"
Dubya's State of The Union was a complete letdown. The same old same old. He even had the temerity to speak of Weapons of Mass Destruction. Remember that canard from last year? There are none, they were dismantled and the program to create them was dropped. But Dubya is still praising his sending soldiers to their death in the name of those non-existent WMDs.
The guy can't even come up with a new twist. Just the same pack of self-serving lies he told last year.
HAIR VICTORIOUS IN IOWA. TRESS FOR SUCCESS!
Last night was the beginning of the real deal as the Democratic hopefuls make their way toward the Convention this Summer, in hopes of securing enough delegates to ensure their way on to the slate.
Truthful realities also made their first appearance, and big media and the press were stuck having to report just that.
No longer is the excellent and ground-breaking usage of the internet as a tool to engender ground level, grass roots support, as well as a way to raise huge sums of money, the big story.
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!
Click on this link to read some fascinating Beatles history. It was 40 years ago that a 15 year old girl in the Washington, D.C. area wrote to a local deejay about this British band she'd heard of, and a particular song of theirs.
The deejay contacted a BOAC rep (remember BOAC! And that logo of theirs!), who brought over and hand-delivered a copy of the 45 (remember "singles?") to him. The airplay and response in the D.C.
SKIN NOT SO THICK
Something happened today. Very upsetting. From left field. No, that understates it. From far afield.
So upsetting that I was shaking after it happened. Not sure how to handle the wave of emotions that came in an onrush, an overflow.
From a source so surprising. A friend, or so I thought. A colleague, someone Iíve known for years. Done business with him, shared war stories, considered a friend, an associate, a colleague. Always had a sense of trust, of him being a person of substance, of honor, all those worthy things.
Maybe I Am Back
Last entry in this space noted that a very long piece was being prepared, about death, The Angel of Death, and the very busy year The Angel had in 2003. That piece promised the full text would appear as an entry, and it even used the word "soon."
The Angel of Death piece was visited by The Angel, and now will not appear. Suffice it to say that 2003 was a big year for Death. Celebrities, friends, relatives, and a whole lot of death among friends and relatives of my friends and extended family. Too much death.