election 2008, andrew, and a curious device, part ii

CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS POST (wherein andrew describes his encounter with the paradox finding device)

later, as we sat in the kitchen alcove of beth’s house sipping hot chocolate, the man pointed to a series of digits on a print-out. “now, see this? everywhere you see a string of numbers like this—three-eight-eight, oh-two-seven—that represents a potential metaphysical inconsistency.”

i considered 388 027. the number had no obvious significance, no sign of a pattern or mathematical errancy, nothing for the likes of an english major.

the man danced a practiced finger from row to row as he scanned the digits. he grunted occasionally, belched loudly when his finger stopped below a series of seven 9s, but otherwise seemed entirely absorbed in this gypsy math.

then, from behind the curtains i heard the now familiar hum of the paradox finding device. strange that i hadn’t noticed it before, i thought. then the curtain moved—i hadn’t seen the device move before, just the noise and lights. the curtains jiggled again. perhaps i’d found the paradox motherload.

april’s cat stepped out from behind the curtain, eyed me curiously, and turned back into the long fabric.

“hi, josie,” i said. “what do you have back there?”

i could now make out her figure behind the curtain, nipping at what must be the paradox finding device.

“josie, leave that alone.”

leaving the man to his cryptic pages of digits, i walked into the kitchen. the counters were mostly bare. a spicy curry-like substance stewed quietly on the stove. next to the wine rack i spotted the bright blue spray bottle.

“josie!” i called, “you better leave that thing alone.” grabbing the half-full bottle, i returned to the alcove. the cat had batted the strange device into the middle of the room. she pawed at it in what seemed regular intervals.

“are you planning to spray that cat?” asked the man. he was staring at me now.

“maybe,” i lied.

“of course—well, don’t bother. come; sit, sit. there’s interesting stuff here, but i think that all we have time for are these twenty or so pages.” he was pointing to a stack of pages he’d labeled “election 2008.”

“this is amazing stuff. you score a seventeen!”

“is that good?”

“well, it’s a true paradox, that’s for certain.”

“oh, OK.”

“see, look here. these numbers suggest that on both a global and a micro level you hold views that are paradoxical.”

“what do you mean?”

“for starters, you genuinely believe that barack obama is the moral choice for president, and the immoral choice for president, and that there is no moral choice for president. and you believe that mccain is in many ways the best that the republican party has to offer, but don’t expect to give him your vote—”

“i follow you, but you’ve got to give me some credit for consistently thinking that sarah palin is a loon.”

the cat had abandoned the paradox device and was purposefully walking about the room.

“meow,” she said.

“hmm. perhaps. nonetheless, you believe that capitalism, democracy, and the protestant work ethic are keys to the continued success of the united states, that distributism and quasi-socialism are keys to the ensuring equality of man, and that these systems are all myths, half-truths to make us feel that we can build sustainable society.”

“right, i see where you’re going with this. i’m stuck with these non-negotiables—we must have the freedom to earn our own keep, control our destinies, and live our lives without the interference of a malignant bureaucracy, yet the very system that allows such american dreams seems set up to propagate inequality, poverty, and poor health care. the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. and although many churches and social programs successfully address these needs, others create generational patterns of welfare.”

“oooh, boy,” he cried, looking down at the print-out, “and we haven’t even mentioned the abortion issue.”

i couldn't resist the bait. “i buy the arguments of websites like proobamaprolife.com, which describe how obama’s emphasis on decreasing the number of unwanted pregnancies through education, birth control, and condoms will have a greater impact on the number of aborted babies than any policy of mccain’s. and i hate how the republican party has co-opted this issue as the one way to keep evangelicals in their electoral camp. but i’m going to have trouble voting for a candidate that supports increased access to abortion.”

“you don’t even need me!” he flipped to another page. “what about your so called objectivism?”

“what do you mean? i’m a model of objectivity. after all, i’m an ISTP.”

“then how is it that you are so swayed by the call for change, by smooth talking, amazing speeches, and funny jokes? why do you esteem the underdogs and challengers over the seemingly capable incumbents? and why do you allow personal grudges—i.e., the lack of response to your supersonics pleas—to impact your vote? and for that matter, why do you so prize objectivity? ”

i stared at the man, dumbfounded. i looked at the pacing cat, at the hanging drapes, at the curious buzzing device on the floor. “i don't know. what’s the answer?” i asked.

he ran a hand through his hair, shuffled the papers into a yellow attaché case, and stooped down to pick up the device. the cat meowed once, twice, and a third time. with tired eyes he looked at me and then back at the cat.

“she says that you are the answer.”

election 2008, andrew, and a curious device

“the device is used to spot paradoxes,” explained the man as he slapped it against his thigh. “if there is a paradox, these lights here, here, and here will blink swampy moss green, night-shade eggplant purple, and laundry blue.”

“and—those are colors?” i asked.

“yes, the colors of paradox.”

he pushed his chair back and walked toward me. the device dangled in his hand like a strangled bunch of metallic carrots. it whirred and hummed against his side.

“show me again,” i said.

he nodded, gave the awkward device three quick shakes, and dropped it to the floor—not a sign of flashing lights. the device purred but remained inert.

“but first can i touch it?”

nodding, he reached down and grabbed the device by what looked curiously like a stem. he offered it to me.

“don’t worry it won’t bite,” he chuckled.

it didn’t bite, but it kept buzzing. i carefully examined the contraption, testing its weight in my palm, listening for the source of that noise, turning it to explore its edges, grooves, and nubs.

i handed it back to him.

“OK. i suppose i’m ready.”

again, three shakes, and then he tossed me the device. nothing happened. it murmured in my hands just as it had a moment earlier on the floor of beth’s living room and when slapped against the man’s thigh. and then, it suddenly lit up. a carnival of greens, purples, and blues flashed through my fingers.

“a paradox!” shouted the man.

CONTINUED IN THE NEXT POST (wherein the mysterious paradoxes are unraveled)

and because i haven't published something on the sonics in about a week . . .

from sonicscentral.com:

3,691 to 117

This was the 4 day total of calls to the governors hotline beginning the morning after the Ballmer announcement and ending the Tuesday we assumed it was dead and filed our public disclosure.

97% of the people who bothered to call in urged her to support a solution and get something done. We expect similar numbers but a much greater quantity of calls when the legislature returns their tallies.

also, last week we heard a lot of rhetoric about "not having enough time to put together a package." but as i was listening to 950 KJR AM tonight, i learned that during the thursday session at least 5 hours (!) were spent congratulating one another on a session well spent and recognizing the lifetime achievements of some of the retiring legislators. that's a bit frustrating.

on the sonics blogs i frequent i've noticed an overwhelming response in favor of this proposal (i.e., hundreds of posters) and an equally dramatic backlash against the politicians in olympia for sitting on their butts and doing nothing. my impression is that many of these fans are your typical washingtonians--liberal and left--and i wonder how their dissatisfaction might influence the next round of elections. i know that i for one am disappointed that i haven't even received a dismissive form letter back from my legislators.

finally, people are calling obama's latest speech amazing. my pastor, for instance, has said that it is "perhaps the most powerful speech on the issues of racism and economic divides offered in the past 40 years." check it out at the npr site. and i'm sure that if obama were on the scale tonight, one thing he might add is that each and every one of us should do our part to end racial discrimination, economic crises, and sonics atrocities by emailing the seattle city council and urging them to find a solution to the missing $75 million (council@saveoursonics.org).

obama and i

some of you have complained that my creative nonfiction is a bit too creative. apparently you want me to warn you whenever i plan to stretch the truth. well, okay. the following story is completely true. this really happened*.

yesterday morning, senator obama and i were carpooling. well, to be more precise, i was escorting baraka--that's what i call him; he laughs and calls me andrewgah; then i frown and return to my story. anyway, the senator has a driver's permit, not a license, and he needs another forty hours before he can take the driving test. thus, as a happily licensed driver, i was obliging baraka with some extra drive time before work.

i climbed into his sleek black lexus and buckled my seat belt. baraka threw it into reverse, peeled out of the driveway, and thrust the car into drive. then, after we barreled along the highway for several minutes, the senator asked me whether the red camry on our bumper looked familiar. i turned my head back and looked at the car. no, i said, i've never seen it before. we were approaching a red stoplight, but instead of braking, he pressed hard on the gas. the lexus leapt through the red light. stunned, i glance back at the camry. it edged into the intersection and then burst after us. baraka was right; something was amiss. as we darted through traffic, baraka warned me that things might get a little messy. he had the look of jack bauer. i closed my eyes as he reached for the hand-brake, sending the lexus into a 180 degree spin. i heard the sounds of scraping metal and shattering glass, and inquired, am i dead?

'the camry hit a tree,' explained the senator. but now there was a honda on our tail. the car chase resumed in a busy shopping mall lot. baraka weaved through parked cars, old ladies, and shopping carts. somehow he managed to lose the civic as he skidded into a parking space at the local gas station and mini-mart. i took a breath and considered our position. there were no cars or buildings within 20 yards of us; nothing obstructed us from the view of that shopping center or the lights of that prowling civic. obama has his head bowed and his hands are rattling in his lap.

we're a bit conspicuous, i thought. searching the grounds for a plan, i spotted my good friend john brawner chatting with a gas station attendant. i figured that if we're being followed, the perps wouldn't suspect us if we're in a larger group. i stepped out of the lexus and waved at brawner. oblivious to my panic, he walked over and blessed me with one of his characteristic bear hugs. and then life slowed down. mid-hug, i saw obama bending over outside our car, i heard the desperate buzz of a floored honda, i felt john's arms tense as he sensed that something was awry. then time snapped back into the frenetic pace of real life. the civic tore through a yellow caution sign, jumped the curb, and slid to a stop 10 feet away; baraka, brawner, and i backed toward the lexus and scrambled into its black leather seats. angry screams burst from the honda and were muffled by the staccato of rapid gunfire. instinctively, i ducked, perhaps hoping that the engine block might somehow impede our assailants rounds. out of the corner of my eye i swear that i saw baraka obama smile and then mumble some wise words of passing. i shut my eyes and began to pray.

on the other side of my eyelids, the world erupted into bright colors: orange, yellow, red. a heavenly welcoming ceremony perhaps. but i was could still feel my legs bunched up awkwardly in the front seat. the fiery plumes of color faded to grey.

i opened my eyes and looked at baraka. instead of seeing a smoking corpse, i watched as the senator dusted himself off and turned the radio dial to npr. i straightened my body and surveyed the scene outside our car. a smouldering wreck sat in the place of the honda. obama grinned *and then i woke up. and, yes, that's exactly how i dreamed it.

the state of the union address (in green and gold)

i was at the supersonics basketball game last night, so i missed most of the state of the union address. however, i did catch some snippets from the address; during the final tense moments of the supes' loss (112-117), the massive screen that dangles prominently in the middle of key arena flashed quick clips from the president's speech, exhorting the crowd to have faith and cheer madly for the home team.

with the sonics leading 106-103, nuggets' guard steve blake drilled a three pointer from 26 feet. the crowd groaned, but an image of bush pushed us on: "on this day, at this hour, it is still within our power to shape the outcome of this battle," he encouraged us, "let us find our resolve and turn events toward victory." suddenly empowered, we jumped to our feet and cheered. unfortunately, a minute later, blake drifted beyond the three point arc and buried another sonic-dagger. we were down by 5 with 1:28 left. it didn't look good. but the president shook his fist and cried, "we are united in the goal of victory!" perhaps there was a chance. then, with less than 30 seconds remaining, ray allen hit a three of his own. the shot capped an amazing 44 point night, but it was too little, too late.

okay, okay. i admit it. there was no video feed streaming from the capitol to the key (but those are real quotes from his speech, check the link above), but i'm afraid that my recap sincerely captures my sense of the address. it was a great speech. as i skimmed his various points, i found myself nodding in agreement (incidentally, i had a similar response to the content on baraka obama's website; i suppose i'm just easily swayed by political rhetoric*). bush was ray allen in a blue tie. he was on fire, scorching the house of representatives chamber with his thoughtful words. still, despite the fine speech, bush's presidencies will ultimately be evaluated based on his response to 9/11 and his management of the iraq war. and, unfortunately for the world (and bush), it's probably too late for iraq. the majority of our nation (including many republican politicians) believes that an increase in troop strength will make no difference in the war. like the sonics-nuggets match, the outcome seems predetermined.

however, although the sonics fell to the triple threat of carmelo anthony, allen iverson, and steve (who the heck is he?) blake, plenty of other nba teams have rallied from 5 down with 2-to-go. and, likewise, there's always a chance that bush can beat the odds and crush the insurgency in baghdad. after all, the military brass appears to support the president's decision (i'm not entirely certain of this claim; the link is for factcheck.org, a nice nonpartisan political site. it's unrelated but i found the optimistic polling response of the iraqis to be rather surprising).

in any case, let's hope we aren't watching the sonics-nuggets duke it out on the global scale. i'm afraid to send more troops, and conversely, i'm afraid to abandon iraq to terrorists and genocide. and i certainly don't support a slow withdrawal--either get those troops out of there or send in the reinforcements and give our military a fighting chance. ah, crap-goose, i wish we could just fast-forward to a happy conclusion and be done with this. if only it were a game of hoops, then we could tivo it and skip to the end.


andrew david. "troops marching to war" alberta, canada.

ps. if elected to the office of president in 2008, i'll win the war on terror by forcing the world to listen to john rouse's "love vibration." how could someone be nasty and malicious after hearing these lyrics?

step out into the sun
step out into the world and love someone
save yourself from hate
and save yourself from hate and all the hassle

yeah, you people all know what i'm talking about (yeah, you people all know what he's talking about)
yeah, you people all know what i'm talking about (yeah, you people all know what he's talking about)
spread the love vibration, uh huh
spread the love vibration, uh huh

now everybody's scared
scared of being lonely and abandoned
if you found someone who cares
you found someone to love and understand ya'

then you people all know what i'm talking about (yeah, you people all know what he's talking about)

yeah, you people all know what i'm talking about (yeah, you people all know what he's talking about)
spread the love vibration, uh huh
spread the love vibration, uh huh

[ooohs and ahhs followed by chorus #2]

*yes, i know. there are not three a's in obama's first name. i'm conducting a google experiment....