The Bill Maher Rule

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"Good afternoon. Thank you for calling radio station WING, your No. 1 source for news talk radio. Can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah, I'd like to talk to the person who schedules your 'Citizens Talk Back' segment. You know, the one where ordinary guys like me can comment on stuff?"

"That would be me, sir. I'm the producer. My name's Georgette. What would you like to comment on?"

"I'd like to talk about how that Geraldo Rivera guy said that Trayvon Martin got shot because he was a black man wearing a hoodie. That really burned me up. I mean, is that a stupid, racist thing to say or what?"

"Yes, sir, I understand. And if you don't mind my asking, I assume you're a liberal?"

"Ummm ... yeah, I guess so. Why?"

"And can you tell me the last time you publicly criticized Bill Maher?"

"What?"

"Bill Maher, the guy who hosts that show on HBO. Have you ever denounced him for calling Sarah Palin a nasty name a couple of years ago?"

"Well, no. I didn't even see that. Or hear about it. What does that have to do with - "

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir, liberals are not allowed to make any criticism of anything anyone on Fox News or conservative talk radio says, no matter how stupid, unless they've publicly criticized Bill Maher. It's a new rule. So to speak."

"What? Since when?"

"Since Rush Limbaugh called that young woman who testified before Congress about birth control a slut and a prostitute. Conservatives knew there was no way to defend that, so they pulled up an old quote from Bill Maher where he called Governor Palin a nasty name. That way, they could go, 'What Rush said was bad, but liberals didn't say anything about what Bill Maher said, so they can't complain about it.' They said it so many times on Fox that it became a rule. We even call it the Bill Maher rule."

"That's ridiculous."

"Let me see if there's some other way to help. Have you ever said anything critical of Maxine Waters or Shirley Jackson Lee?"

"I don't even know who they are!"

"Don't lie to me, sir. Every liberal knows everything those two have said, and their failure to abhor them every single day is an example of left-wing hypocrisy."

"Let me get this straight. Someone on the right says something sexist, racist, or just plain stupid and mean, and I can't say anything about it unless I've gone out of my way to criticize something stupid or mean or outrageous some liberal has said?"

"Yes, sir."

"And let me guess ... you get to pick the thing I should have complained about, and even if I've never heard of it, I'm a hypocrite because I didn't already fall all over myself to deplore it?"

"Now you get it!"

"No, I really don't. Do you demand that conservatives do that? I mean, I've seen some really nasty signs about President Obama. There was the one Photoshopped to make him look like a witch doctor with a bone through his nose. There's that bumper sticker someone put out that said "Don't Re-Nig In 2012" and an Obama symbol with a line through it. When someone comes on your station to complain about Bill Maher or Rahm Emmanuel, do you ask them if they've ever denounced those things?"

"Oh, no, sir! That wouldn't be honest. It would be trying to stifle debate!"

"Of course it would."

"Oh, by the way, you can't ever say anything about racism by the Republicans or the tea party unless you've publicly denounced Senator Robert Byrd."

"Isn't he dead?"

"Yes, but he was in the KKK."

"That was before I was born!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm sorry, sir, it doesn't look like we're going to be able to help you today. Thanks for calling WING, fair and balanced news talk radio!"

"This is [bad word]."

"You don't have to use vulgar language, sir!"

"Rick Santorum did!"

"Yes, but you're not allowed to mention it unless you complained about Joe Biden saying ... Hello? Hello?"

An Etch a Sketch Candidate In an iPad World

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I know, I know, I just did a column on Mitt Romney last week. But let's face it: The dude's a gift that just keeps on giving.

In this case, the gift to his opponents, both Republican and Democratic, came from Romney communication director Eric Fehrnstrom. It was the day after Romney's decisive victory in the Illinois Republican primary, and the Romnoids had fanned out across the various news and political shows to talk up their candidate.

Everything was going OK until a CNN host asked the fateful question: "Is there a concern that Santorum and Gingrich might force the governor to tack so far to the right it would hurt him with moderate voters in the general election?" To which Fehrnstrom replied "Well, I think you hit a reset button for the fall campaign. Everything changes. It's almost like an Etch A Sketch. You can kind of shake it up and restart all over again."

For opponents of a candidate who already had a reputation as a flip-flopper who'd say anything to get elected, the image proved irresistible.

Sales of the classic children's toy immediately took a jump as everyone associated with the Santorum, Gingrich, and Paul campaigns, not to mention every member of the Democratic National Committee, rushed out to purchase one, the better to (figuratively) beat Governor Romney over the head with.

A Santorum spokesman even showed up at a Romney event to pass Etch A Sketches out to reporters. Newt Gingrich gave one to a young boy at one of his rallies and said, "Now you can be a presidential candidate," which no doubt both pleased the youngster and confused him to no end.

Gingrich later said that if Fehrnstrom had "set out to highlight for everybody why we distrust Romney, I think he couldn't have done a better job." Of course, someone like Gingrich, who can say on a Tuesday that "any ad which quotes what I said on Sunday is a falsehood," doesn't have much room to complain about someone else's "resets."

The fact that no one in the supposedly liberal media has yet pointed out the rank hypocrisy of his statement may be because, once again, Gingrich's campaign has faded to the point where reporters have trouble remembering that he's still actually running, and the ones who do remember don't care.

The president, as of this writing, has not commented, although one liberal blogger has already put a virtual Etch A Sketch up on the Web, highlighting some of Romney's contradictory statements. I'll tell you one thing, though: If we don't see as many Etch A Sketches being waved about at the Democratic Convention as there were flip-flops being waved at John Kerry in 2004, then the Democrats need to find a new communications team.

Now, it's true that Fehrnstrom was simply stating one of the venerable principles of presidential politics: You play to your base to appeal to the true believers who vote in the primaries, then "tack toward the center" during the general.

The problem is, we don't live in an Etch A Sketch world any more. We live in the world of YouTube and Google, where everything is recorded, and everything is available forever. Heck, Jon Stewart and "The Daily Show" have based their entire shtick around it.

Say something that contradicts what you said six months, a year, five years, or even 10 years ago, and if it was ever on video, the legion of research gnomes who work for Stewart will have your contradictions on the air by 11 the next night, accompanied by Stewart's patented pained look at the camera, the look that says, as clearly as any words, "Does this person think we're as stupid as he is?"

In addition, with the "bases" of both parties getting both farther and farther apart, and more and more hardened in their respective positions, a candidate seeking to "tack toward the center" finds him or herself with a much longer distance to sail.

Fehrnstrom's statement reflects an older mindset, one that doesn't take into account the fact that these days, information is forever, the reset button doesn't work, and all your public history resides in the cloud. The icon for the modern political scene isn't the Etch A Sketch. It's the iPad or Android phone running the YouTube app and showing videos of everything you've ever said in public.

You can shake that bad boy all you want, but you can't make the stuff you don't want to admit to go away.

Cheesy Don't Even Begin to Cover It, Mitt

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Folks who know me know that one of my biggest pet peeves is a badly done Southern accent. For example, don't ever ask me about the movie "Steel Magnolias" unless you want to hear a rant about the travesty that is Olympia Dukakis' attempt at a Southern drawl.

 "Fake Southern" gets to me like fingernails on a blackboard.

But I've got to tell you, Mitt Romney's latest attempts at being "down home" as he campaigned in the South drew more winces from me than annoyance. It was just painful to watch.

I mean, the dude's got enough going against him being from Massachusetts (or, as it's more commonly known down here, "Taxachusetts"). The Bay State, like California, is one of those parts of this great country that conservatives, especially Southern conservatives, love to hate.

Plus, there's that whole "moderate" thing, plus the other "M" word (Mormon) that's guaranteed to make Southern evangelicals suspicious. As a friend of mine pointed out, the Southern Baptist Convention once spent more than $600,000 to send teams of missionaries - to Salt Lake City.

Still, I'm sure there were some people willing to put that aside, because they think Romney can beat Barack Obama in the general election. Unfortunately, when Romney tries to act natural around people who make less than a gazillion dollars a year, he starts behaving like some sort of badly programmed android sent here by an alien race to observe our primitive customs.

You may remember John Kerry's "who among us does not love NASCAR?" quote from 2004. As it turns out, Kerry never said that; it was entirely made up by columnist Maureen Dowd to mock Kerry's stiff speaking style. Dowd, however, could not have made up a more ham-fisted response than the one Romney gave when asked at the Daytona 500 if he followed racing.

"Not as closely as some of the most ardent fans," Mitt said, "but I have some great friends who are NASCAR team owners." That sound like distant gunfire you heard immediately after that was the sound of thousands of palms being applied to thousands of foreheads in disbelief.

Later, in South Carolina, Romney told a restaurant owner who offered him some of the establishment's signature dish that he wasn't "a catfish man."

Now, I remember Chris Matthews going ballistic when told that Barack Obama had gone into a diner on the campaign trail and ordered orange juice instead of coffee. This was a sure sign, in Matthews' eyes, that there was something not quite right about Obama, even though millions of people order orange juice in diners all the time. That's why diners carry it.

Matthews has not been heard from so far on Catfish-Gate, which would be all to the good, except that now Romney's flip-flopping even on that. Campaigning in Alabama, he claimed, "I had catfish for the second time. It was delicious, just like the first time." Guess somebody rebooted the MittBot and added some new fish-friendly programming.

Of course, no attempt at pandering would be complete here in the South without some reference to grits, and Romney's no exception. In Pascagoula, he began a campaign appearance with a "mornin', y'all" that was so fake it made Olympia Dukakis sound like Randy Travis. Then he followed up with the claim that he'd started his morning off right with a biscuit and some "cheesy grits." What, no fatback 'n' hog jowls?

It's not uncommon, of course, for politicians to engage in cultural pandering. It's not even uncommon for them to do it badly, as Romney has (see "Kerry, John," above). What is uncommon is for them to do well by it, and the MittBot is no exception. He lost Mississippi and Alabama to Rick Santorum, even as his delegate count grows, increasing the likelihood he'll be the nominee.

Which leaves the Republicans with a potential Southern problem they haven't had to face in decades. Elections are often decided by voter turnout. General elections, as opposed to primaries, are often decided by being able to persuade not just your hard-core believers, but independent and moderate voters, to get out and vote. Those voters often make their decisions on gut feelings about whom they trust.

Will the true believers turn out to vote for someone they so clearly don't like and don't trust? Will the independents turn out to vote for such a transparent phony? Will dislike for a charismatic president hang on in an improving economy long enough to carry the day for the MittBot?

I have my doubts.

What’s My Name?

I'm musing about pen names today over at the Thalia Press Authors Co-Op Blog. Check it out.

THANKS, RICK AND RUSH!

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This week, I'd like to reach across the aisle, as it were, and offer my thanks to a couple of Republicans.I know this might seem shocking, and it does break with the position of many of my fellow liberals, but I'd like to extend the hand of thanks to Rick Santorum and Rush Limbaugh.

Sen. Santorum, as a supporter of this president and someone who'd like to see him win a second term, I'd like to offer my warmest gratitude to you for your complete inability to stay on message.

Oh, I know that, with employment rising and other good economic news, the Republican platform of "everything sucks and it's all Obama's fault" becomes somewhat problematic. It's going to be hard to keep those moderates and independents on your side when you have to keep dismissing, mocking and trying to change the subject when there's any piece of good news. The Debbie Downer character from "Saturday Night Live" may be amusing, but I wouldn't pick her for my communications director.



 Nevertheless, economic gloom and doom is the message the Republican Party has chosen to embrace, and that's the one the candidates are expected to broadcast.

But you, Sen. Santorum - when it comes to any issue involving sex in general and contraception in particular, you're like my dog when he sees a squirrel on our morning walk. He knows he's not supposed to take off running full-tilt after it, but he just can't help himself.



Likewise, whenever the subject of contraception comes up, you may know, somewhere back in the recesses of your mind, that the issue is an electoral minefield, given that polls show three-quarters of American women have used the pill, only 8 percent of them think that birth control is morally wrong, and 89 percent of Catholic women - your own fellow religionists - not only have no problem with birth control, but favor expanding access to it for people who can't afford it. But you can't help but chase that squirrel, can you?

You can't keep from blurting out things like how contraception is "a license to do things in a sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be," and that states should have the power to ban it, even for married couples.

Which brings us to Rush Limbaugh. Thank you, Mr. Limbaugh, for your recent comments regarding Georgetown University law student Sandra Fluke.

When Republican House members refused to let any women testify at a hearing involving a rule that private insurance plans had to include contraception, the Democrats held their own hearing. Ms. Fluke was a witness.
She talked about the financial hardship some women suffered because the student health plan at her private university did not provide coverage for contraception and related how a friend who took the pill to control her agonizingly painful polycystic ovarian syndrome was denied coverage and suffered as a result.

So you, Mr. Limbaugh, then went off on a bizarre diatribe over three days about how Ms. Fluke was a "slut" and a "prostitute" who "wanted taxpayers to pay her to have sex," even though, again, this was a discussion of regulation of a privately funded insurance plan at a private university and had nothing to do with taxpayer funding.

Further, Ms. Fluke hadn't even talked about her sex life. Nevertheless, in one of the creepiest jokes ever heard on the American airwaves, you demanded that Fluke should videotape herself having sex and post it on the Internet so you, a 61-year-old man, could watch it.

Now, a lot of people have given you grief for that. As of this writing, 45 sponsors have pulled out of your show after a storm of Internet protests. There have been calls to take you off the taxpayer-funded Armed Forces Radio.

But I say, please continue. Keep disrespecting women with whom you disagree in the crudest possible fashion, while positioning yourself as the voice of American conservatism.

And Sen. Santorum, please stay in the race as the "conservative alternative," while uncontrollably spouting off a radical position on birth control that's sure to alienate the vast majority of female voters.

Because pretty much all of the women of voting age that I've talked to recently are as angry and energized as I've ever seen them over these issues. And they're not energized for your party.A recent AP poll showed the president's approval ratings up 10 percent among women since December, beating Romney 54 percent to 41 percent in this key demographic.

Thank you, fellows. And enjoy the second Obama term.

Sluice Tundra, Private Eye: The Case of the Flip-Flopping Financier

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It was about 11 o'clock in the morning, the day after the Michigan and Arizona primaries. I waited in the hallway of the big mansion, trying to keep my trench coat from dripping rain on the expensive Italian tiles. It didn't work. Darned gravity.

"The governor will see you now, sir," the ancient gray-haired butler said.

I followed him into a room so large you could have played full-court basketball in it and still had room for a game of pingpong in the corners. It was a long walk to where the former governor sat at the other end; I had to stop and rest a couple of times.

As I came closer, he got up from behind an antique desk that probably cost more than my house. He flashed me the tight-jawed, blank-eyed, toothy grin I'd seen a thousand times on my TV screen, the one that always made me wonder if he was real or something that had escaped from a ride at Disney World.

"Are you Mr. Tundra?" he said.

"That's me," I said, "Sluice Tundra, private eye. An honest gumshoe, trying to earn a living out on the mean streets, where life is cheap, the women are fast, and the lead flies like ..."

"Yes, Mr. Tundra, I know," the governor interrupted. "It's on your business card. I must say, you really had to use some small print to fit that speech onto one card."

"It was either that, or say 'Continued on Next Card,'" I said. "And that would be silly." I took a seat. "So what can I do for you, governor?" I said.

"I'm being followed," he said. A hunted look came over his chiseled face. "It's always there. Right behind me. It won't leave me alone."

"What?" I asked. "What's following you?"

"My record," he said.

"Your record?"

He nodded. "I'm supposed to be this big right-wing conservative. I need that to get through the primaries. But every time I turn around, it's there." He got up, went to the nearby wet bar, and poured a drink with shaking hands. "I can't get away from it. I can't get away from the fact that I once supported a ban on assault weapons. That I ran for the Senate in 1994 saying I'd be a stronger advocate for gay rights than Ted Kennedy. That I supported the Wall Street bailout and once supported stem cell research."

"Don't forget Romneycare," I said. He looked daggers at me, but I went on. "You remember? You said you liked the individual mandate, that the mandates worked."

"You're not helping!" he snapped.

I shrugged. "What do you want me to do?"

"Make it stop following me!" he said.

"Sorry, Governor," I said. "I'm pretty good, but I can't change the past. If I could do that, I'd undo my second marriage." I got up from the chair. "But look on the bright side. Once you've got the nomination, a lot of those people who've been railing against everything you've supported will fall in line and vote for you. Because as bad as they hate bailouts, health care (for anyone but them), gun control and gay people, they hate Obama even more."

He brightened up at that. "So I'll win the election?"

"Oh, God, no," I answered. "Obama's going to take that record you're fretting about and spend months beating you over the head with it so hard your ears ring. You're going to be the John Kerry of the Republican Party - the guy the base went along with, even though they didn't like him, because he was safe and electable. Then the moderates and independents looked at him and saw him as a phony who votes for things before he votes against them. And we all know how that worked out."

I shook my head. "No, you've got to have more than 'I'm not that guy' to win the general election. There just aren't enough people willing to turn out in the general election to vote based on hate. And you, sir, just don't have much more than that, especially now that the economy's improving."

He looked stubborn. "I can tell them it isn't. I can tell them the better unemployment figures don't mean anything."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

He drew himself up to his full height. "Mr. Tundra," he said, "you're fired." Then, for the first time, he smiled a genuine smile. "I really do like firing people."

"Yeah," I said. "Good luck with that, too."