So I Lied, So Sue Me

I know I said I’d do nothing else on Palin but I just came across this post at Cornell Professor Michael Dorf’s personal blog.

While decrying the GOP’s vetting procedure Dorf makes a point I’ve not seen anywhere else – the massive disconnect between evangelist Palin’s professed anti-abortionism and her having amniocentesis while pregnant herself:

….one acquires the information available through an amniocentesis only at the small but real risk of terminating the pregnancy. This is why younger women are generally not offered an amniocentesis at all — the risk of miscarriage is too great to justify the procedure. For a person in a higher-risk category (an older woman, for example) who either will or might terminate a pregnancy on the basis of a positive result, this risk might be worth taking. But for a person who will not abort no matter what the result is, it would not appear to be. This makes me think that, at least for the moment that she decided to have an amniocentesis, Sarah Palin considered having an abortion.

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Veepy Dearest

One more thing, and then I’m done with Palin, or at least until the next revelation (which’ll could be anything; her husband runs guns for Alaskan secessionists or was Jimmy Jeff’s date at Bohemian Grove – anything). Whatever it is it’s bound to be grubby.

Although Trooper/Sprog/TreasonGate has been great entertainment given the candidate’s expressed religious and political views, the family situation is hardly uncommon. 17 year old daughters do get pregnant (usually by complete dorks and ne’er-do-wells), and especially so when they’ve been kept ignorant of how not to because of a misguided attempt to keep them ‘pure’. It happens. My own sister was a grandmother in her early forties too, a situation which gave me many enjoyable hours of sisterly schadenfreude. Hi Granny!

This time it happened to someone running for veep. Other than the momentary amusement and the justified outrage at continuing Republican hypocrisy, after the first flush of pleasurable derision it’s really no-one’s business, though it does make McCain’s advance vetting look worse than useless.

McCain insists that his VP pick was throroughly investigated and that he knew of Palin minor’s pregnancy before he announced the nomination. He appears to think that makes it all OK.

To me if McCain knew of Palin minor’s pregnancy beforehand, but nominated anyway, that actually makes it much, much worse.

It means Sarah Palin, the woman being projected as future MILF to the nation, simultaneously portrayed as a babe-librarian or a gun-toting survival chick, but primarily marketed by her party as a glossy conglomerate of Ma Walton and Raphael’s Madonna, is a terrible mother. One of the worst.

I know from terrible mothers; I am one. Without going into private family history I can assure readers there’s little you can tell me about awful parenting decisions. That said, I’m apalled.

All of this means that Palin knew very well her daughter was pregnant when she accepted the nomination – and unless she’s been hiding under a rock for the past century she’d have certainly also known that the media, ever hungry for prurient detail, would dive on the story like they would a line of free coke. Even Alaska gets the internet.

She must have known that they’d pry into her child’s private life and even into her pants – how could she not? – yet she accepted the nomination with alacrity. Knowing it would be bound to hurt one of her children, she did it anyway. That’s cold.

Worse still, she and her husband also went on to publicly take any and all decision-making capability regarding herself and her child entirely out of their daughter’s hands.

Not only is Palin making her daughter’s decisions re the pregnancy for her (ie that she will get married and be happy happy happy and photogenic ever after, seemingly regardless of her feelings or that of the putative father) her one criterion for making those decisions appears to be what would advance her political career.

I don’t know about any other parents following this story, but I don’t know one no matter how self-interested, who would so deliberately ruin their child’s future for their own personal advancement.

Parents make some tremendously ill-judged decisions and yes, children suffer because some parents are overly ambitious. But it’s usually a passive kind of harm, not delberate; being elsewhere at important moments, not paying enough attention, fobbing them off with money instead of time, letting them do something dodgy because it was easier than arguing and you’re just so damned tired… but it takes some hardnosed ruthlessness to sacrifice your child’s future to your own interests, publicly, and be so proud of it too.

I certainly don’t condemn Palin because she has five children and I don’t see why someone who does should not be vice-president – neither do I question someone’s ability to do the job because one of those children is disabled and needs extra care. Leaving aside Cheney’s activist vice-presidency it’s not that much of a job and besides, that’s what nannies, schools and nurses are for.

But I absolutely and unequivocally condemn someone who would drag her child through the tabloid mire, deliberately and with malice aforethought. She’s building her own glittering political future on her own child’s ruined hopes.

Nevertheless the right seem in thrall – but then they are well practiced at cognitive dissonance The GOP faithful at the Convention certainly have no problem with it whatsoever. Hypocrisy barely registers. But if McCain and his party think to have secured the undecided, independent woman voter with this transparent ploy then they are very much deluded.

I can’t be the only mother who’s looked at this situation and thought “Jeez, what a complete bitch.”

First Junkie

Cindy McCain field recognition guide

“She was blonde and beautiful. A rich man’s daughter who became a politically powerful man’s wife. She had it all, including an insidious addiction to drugs that sapped the beauty from her life like a spider on a butterfly.”

You’d think the media would jump on a juicy story of drug addiction, dishonesty and outright theft by a potential first lady, wouldn’t you? Can you imagine the furore, the accusations of druggy baby-mamadom, if it were Michelle Obama? She’d be in jail by now and her kids in foster care. But it’s Cindy McCain and she’s blonde and rich – so she’s not and they’re not.

No, blonde rich junkies don’t get pokey, they get put in the White House.

Salon, October 1999:

GOP presidential candidate John McCain’s wife Cindy took to the airwaves last week, recounting for Jane Pauley (on “Dateline”) and Diane Sawyer (on “Good Morning America”) the tale of her onetime addiction to Percocet and Vicodin, and the fact that she stole the drugs from her own nonprofit medical relief organization.

It was a brave and obviously painful thing to do.

It was also vintage McCain media manipulation.

I had deja vu watching Cindy McCain on television, perky in a purple suit with tinted pearls to match. It was so reminiscent of the summer day in 1994 when suddenly, years after she’d claimed to have kicked her habit, McCain decided to come clean to the world about her addiction to prescription painkillers.

I believe she wore red that day. She granted semi-exclusive interviews to one TV station and three daily newspaper reporters in Arizona, tearfully recalling her addiction, which came about after painful back and knee problems and was exacerbated by the stress of the Keating Five banking scandal that had ensnared her husband. To make matters worse, McCain admitted, she had stolen the drugs from the American Voluntary Medical Team, her own charity, and had been investigated by the Drug Enforcement Administration.

The local press cooed over her hard-luck story. One of the four journalists spoon-fed the story — Doug McEachern, then a reporter for Tribune Newspapers, now a columnist with the Arizona Republic (and, it must be added, normally much more acerbic) — wrote this rather typical lead:

“She was blonde and beautiful. A rich man’s daughter who became a politically powerful man’s wife. She had it all, including an insidious addiction to drugs that sapped the beauty from her life like a spider on a butterfly.”

What McEachern and the others didn’t know was that, far from being a simple, honest admission designed to clear her conscience and help other addicts, Cindy McCain’s storytelling had been orchestrated by Jay Smith, then John McCain’s Washington campaign media advisor. And it was intended to divert attention from a different story, a story that was getting quite messy.Read the whole thing.

More from Majikthise here and Kos here.

Picture Post

If only… the ‘eighties might’ve been a bit more fun.

Howard did always have something of the nightclub about him… oh. It’s not that Howard. As you were, then.

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I may just order one of these books for some prospective new parents I know. It’s the perfect companion to My First Cavity Search.

“What a wonderful gift for new parents! How to Traumatize Your Children includes useful chapters on narcissistic parenting, parent as best friend, killing self-esteem, the convenience of neglect – and even how to enjoy your legacy of trauma. Not only does this book provide lots of laughs, but it actually reinforces how you really should raise your kids. 190 pages, hardcover”

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If this guy is genuine, this is very very sweet and funny. If not, well then it’s more than a little bit odd:

“Is this you? Please, if you recognise this person, read on

You’ve got to be resourceful in love these days though, so full marks for trying and extra brownie points for being cute about it.

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From the Flickr photostream of Reciprocity, this is one of a gorgeous set called Twisting Light

Animal Dance – Twisting Light #5 The next one in the series of refraction patterns formed by passing light through various shapes of moulded and formed plastic. Photographed direct on to 35mm film.

I thought that this one looked like a chorus line of long necked llamas with large floppy ears gyrating in front of the spot lights. You may think differently. :-)

To me it looks like a headless row of dancers from an Ancient Greek vase or maybe a bit of William Morris border. Or the crysanthemums on a bracelet I bought in a second-hand shop (or ‘vintage’ store, I suppose I should learn to call them if I want to be fashionable). I prefer ‘otherly-owned’.

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If you are minded to be fashionable and want to mine the past for clothes, old magazines are invaluable for getting your eye in. Vogue is putting together a searchable online archive of all its covers from 1916 to the present day. Here’s March 1960: the makeup’s nice, the colours are lovely but I do hope the shape of that coalscuttle hat never, ever comes back in again.

“The cover is described as a “spokesman for black and white, a leading fashion pair”, while the London Look is said to be “understated, soft fabrics, with sashes as a feature and lots of patent leather”.”

Things don’t change that much do they – except the cover price. Good lord, 2/6- for a magazine – that’s only 12 and a half pence! (Around 20 eurocents, or 500 bucks.)

Oops. That I automatically knew that (and recognised a coalscuttle, what’s more) says more about my own personal vintage than I really care to reveal.