Brand X

Sometimes one just has to link to something damn funny. Link courtesy of Mighty God King, naturally.

Look, here's the thing. The 20th century was America's century, no argument. And we could've had a chance for the 21st as well. But then one election went wrong, and now the first decade of that century has been spent doing all the wrong things. Every bad policy of the past 150 years was put on fast-forward in a desperate attempt to prove that this time it'd work, they were right all along, dammit... and holy crap, has that not worked.

Now, eight years into the century, our economy is mortgaged to the hilt, our citizenry is impoverished, our infrastructure is wrecked, our system of government is severely damaged, our existing policies are all failures, our national unity is a dim memory, and our international standing is completely destroyed. If we're going to pull out of this tailspin, we need to start doing things VERY differently.

No, that's not an endorsement for Kucinich or Ron fucking Paul. This is not a time for feel-good protest votes. We need to get behind someone who can actually lead us out of the unbelievable shitstorm Bush has landed us in, and that means someone who can actually lead and do it in a new direction.

Which brings me to this:


If you don't have time to watch it, there's a partial transcript here.

I did not know Americans could still make speeches like that. I have not, in my lifetime, seen anyone unify straightforward statements with inspiring sentiments in that way. I have never been moved to tears by a political speech before. Christ on a bicycle, I don't recall ever seeing a major American politician explain the difference between the cartoon racism of the KKK and the ugly facts on the ground of institutional racism.

Watch the video, watch the crowd. (Especially watch the guy in the lower left corner. I love that guy.) They're ambivalent, even uncomfortable, about some of the things he's got to tell them. He doesn't even slow down. In other places, everyone flies onto their feet applauding, even the deacons who are trying to be all serious and solemn. Yes, it's a friendly crowd. Sure, he wouldn't get the same reaction from a bunch of country-club Republicans. But you can't tell me there's anyone outside Bush's fanatical 25% base that wouldn't get behind the vision of America being expressed in that speech.

That's what we need now, more than anything: a vision. A president with a clear idea of where we're going and why. A president who just by existing constitutes a firm statement that we are no longer doing things the same old way. Yes, that means I support him partly just because he's black. Symbolism matters.

I like Clinton okay, and I like Edwards quite a bit, but neither of them has that vision, that symbolism. I can't see either of them making that speech.

So yes, vote Obama in your primary and in November. We can't afford anything less.

And the next time you hear me stop to just plain endorsing a candidate like this, I'll owe you a beer.

Labels: politics

One of those frustratingly vague bits of screenwriting wisdom that gets passed along is that a story isn't complete until your protagonist has been "taken to the limit." This often gets interpreted as meaning one should heap misfortunes and injuries on your hero's head until their life resembles what moody 15-year-olds think their lives are like. You know the sort of last act I mean--a hero with three limbs cut off and two bullets in his lung, dragging himself by a gun with one round left towards a heroine whose parents just died of cancer the same day her boyfriend left her over the PTSD from her repressed molestation memory. Presumably, if taking one's protagonist to the limit is useful, that can't be what it means.

This occurred to me recently when I was talking with a writer friend about characterization, and I said that I'm a sucker for any scene where a character's internal monologue ends with "...because fuck you."

A few classic examples: "I could join with the father I've always dreamed of meeting and ascend to a position of power over the entire galaxy, but I'm not gonna. Because fuck you."

"If I fail to turn in my friend to the Nazis, I'll lose my cushy position and wind up in some Christ-awful Free French brigade without a hope in hell. But y'know what? Fuck you, Vichy."

"I'm losing my love, my lifestyle, and the dream I've clung to for years, giving it up for a goddamn copy job in Ohio. Incidentally, Norma, fuck you."

"My species is doomed, and the best I can do is a stupid, futile gesture that will, in the best-case scenario, save one Kryptonian. But fuck you, death."

One of my favorite characters is coming from the same place in her basic motivation: "On the one hand, I'm short and fat and have no training and am in college and have no right to be involved in saving the world every month. But then again, on the other hand, fuck you." I'm a sucker for heroes that don't ask anyone's permission to be heroes, but that's another rant.

Being what I am, once I found this phenomenon, I started rummaging around in Shakespeare for examples, where I discovered that the fuck-you moment isn't necessary for a good story. Shakespeare's stories are often tales of destiny and fate, where this kind of stark defiance is out of place. Even so, it's notable that Mercutio's best scene is his death, his last cry of "Fuck ALL of you!" Indeed, I realized that what makes Othello's tragedy so great is that his decision comes down to "I love you, I'll always love you, and I can't imagine my life without you. But fuck you." That's why it hurts so bad every time--we always want love to be the principle that he sticks to, and it always turns out to be pride.

So this is one meaning of "taking a character to the limit." Not to the limit of what's possible, but to the limit the character will go. To the limit where they dig in their heels and refuse to go any further. To where they turn back on the author and say "Fuck you."