Victor D. Infante's Blog, page 173

The Great Santorum Surge

As of this writing, Rick Santorum is up on Mitt Romney by about a 130 votes in Iowa. People seem surprised by this, but really, it actually makes a lot of sense. I'm no fan of Santorum, but he actually did a lot of things right, campaign-wise. At least for this battle.

1.) Santorum made a point of visiting every county in Iowa. Let me repeat that. He visited every county in Iowa. That's something none of his competitors did. And while his advertising budget in Iowas was dwarfed by every other candidate save Michelle Bachman, there's a lot of evidence to show that immense ad spending has done little to move the race, save perhaps for damaging Romney. Indeed, Santorum's Iowa success is due in large part to old-fashioned campaign politics. Except no substitutions. By and large, people will think better of you if they see you up close. (Unless you make an ass of yourself. Ahem.)

2.) Santorum stayed on message. Now, I pretty much despise the actual message, but the fact is, he stayed on it. There were no equivocations, no flip-flopping. And if you're on the far right of the social conservative side of the political spectrum, and you're already distrustful of Romney and Gingrich, then that's going to mean something to you. And, unlike Bachman and Rick Perry, he didn't really ever come off as either stupid or crazy while doing it. Repugnant, maybe, but not crazy or stupid. And if you've already bought into that particular philosophy, then you've really only got those three horses in the race. If you're a social conservative, and you have no issues with the beliefs Santorum espouses, why not go for the one that looks the least stupid or crazy?

3.) Santorum got kind of lucky. OK, you can't plan for that sort of thing, but it's true. The narrative of this whole primary season has been the far-right's search for a candidate who was not Romney. One by one, contenders made dashes for that title, and one by one they crashed and burned: Tim Pawlenty, Donald Trump, Bachman, Perry, Herman Cain, Newt Gingrich ... each of them got taken out for a spin, and each of them crashed and burned, and whomever they've blamed along the way, most of them engineered their own undoings. Ron Paul's slipping a bit in polls, now, but his actual crash hasn't come. Only real political wonks have held Santorum up for any sort of scrutiny, and that's been a boost. Right now Paul's been getting the media attention he'd been previously lacking, and you can already see him start to whither. Can Santorum fare any better than the others when the heat's turned on? I'm inclined to doubt.

Now ... the bad news for Santorum: All that time he spent in Iowa is time he didn't spend elsewhere, and New Hampshire's almost certainly Romney Country, which effectively makes this a three-person race -- Santorum, Romney and Paul -- all the way to South Carolina and Florida, and I have to say, that's a pretty good illustration of the actual philosophical divide that makes up the current GOP. Santorum's had little face time outside Iowa (neither has Paul), and nowhere near Romney's money to spend. Now if, say, Bachman or Perry officially bow out and throw some support at Santorum, things might change, but right now we're looking at a deck that's stacked in Romney's favor.

The real question is whether the mounting tensions between the GOP's coalition of the religious right (Santorum) and right-wing libertarians (Paul) can outweigh more pragmatism-minded moderate-conservatives in a lot of states. The old saw is that "Democrats fall in love, republicans fall in line," and there's some truth to that -- just look at the last congressional election -- but the tensions between GOP factions are running high right now, and I can't help but wonder if bitterness in this primary might translate to a lack of Republican enthusiasm in November. The biggest political strength that the Democrats have is that they, for whatever reason, tend to fair well with a prolonged, hard-fought primary, whereas the process tends to weaken Republican candidates more. They're far more effective politically when they're all on the same page, and clearly, right now they're not.

New Year's Resolutions

2011 is rolling to a close, and it's been a wild one. My last year in my 30s. Turning 40 in February. EEK! We joke about the midlife crisis, but there's nothing like a nice round number like that to make you think about all the things you really want to get done. Thus, the New Year's Resolutions.

*While I was sick, I lost a lot of weight. It was pretty horrible, really, but now that I seem to be better, I want to keep it off, and get back to working out regularly. I've spent so much time with doctors this year that I'm terribly motivated to start doing better about taking better care of my health.

*In a lot of ways, this has been a good year for my writing career. I've had poems and stories accepted to journals including  The Legendary , Ballard Street , Pearl , Chiron Review , Petrichor Machine , The Collagist and The Mas Tequila Review ; and anthologies including Knocking at the Door , Don't Blame the Ugly Mug and Aim For the Head. That's in addition to starting up the new online literary journal, Radius , and launching the Pop Culture Notebook for the Telegram. Lots of bits and pieces in there, too. I think the goal here needs to be for me to start taking all these pieces and moving my writing forward. Write more, write bigger and write better. I certainly want to get out and read more, maybe hit a few places I haven't been for a long time. Maybe it's also time to start thinking about a second full-length book, but I want to make sure I'm in a place where I can give that sort of endeavor what it needs to succeed. The lesson of City of Insomnia was that getting the book published is the beginning of the journey, not the end. The responsibility of making sure the book moves, of publicity and touring, is a lot greater than I expected it to be, especially for a guy who has a day job he's not quite willing to abandon to tour year-round like some of his colleagues do. Still, I learned a lot the first time around. We'll see where it all goes.

*Get out more. See more live music and poetry. Go visit places and see things. Don't be such a homebody.

*The usual: Be a better husband, son, friend, etc. I am -- on the best of days -- absent-minded, withdrawn, distracted and overworked. I don't always feel I make enough time for the people I love, and I need to change that, because I've been blessed with some amazing people in my life, and I don't want to feel like I'm taking them for granted.

Hope you have a Happy New Year's Eve. Looking forward to seeing what 2012 holds. 

Good Radio Day

The first part of my interview with Joe Gouveia for WOMR's Poet's Corner is online. Check it out, along with all the other great interviews Joe has up there ... including a three-parter with Naomi Shihab Nye!

Yikes! Hectic! And on the Radio!

Wow, busy. First off, I'm going to be on WCRN Radio, 830 AM, with host Sherman Whitman, sometime around 12:15 EST, if you want to tune in or listen online to me gab about Go, Pop Culture Notebook and general year's end artyness.

Also up on Telegram.com, my rundown of my favorite songs of 2011, and Craig Semon's choices for the year's top albums.

Also, over in Pop Culture Notebook, I've spent the past couple days chatting about what people's favorite moments of live music and poetry in Worcester have been this year, with some surprising results.

OK. Gotta bolt. Work to do!

Video Killed the Poetry Star ... Or Something Like That ...

... More like poem nearly kills the poet. The wonderful Bob Gill caught my performance of my poem "Great Astronomical Discoveries Lately Made" at the Poets' Asylum recently on tape. Alas, it was also during the height of my recent health troubles, so I'm way off my game here, thus losing my place in a couple instances and coughing a couple times throughout. I have a sense my performance was a bit stronger at the The Encyclopedia Show Los Angeles, where it debuted. Also, Bob was the exact right angle for my paper to appear to be blocking my face most of the time, which I'm sure is all for the best.

Still, rough performance or not, here it is, for all posterity:



I'm still fond of the poem, but I think I'll wait until I'm in tip-top shape before taking it out for a spin again.

Watching History Recede

A number of my friends got on my case for offering a modicum of respect to Christopher Hitchens on his passing. With good reason. From his swing to militant neoconservatism to his zealous and condescending stance on atheism, he and I had very little in common philosophically, save for perhaps his stalwart championing of poetry over the years. Still, I found him to be an interesting man, and an interesting writer, and I'm afraid I just don't share the belief that those who think differently than I do are in some way mentally deficient or evil. (Alas, yet another thing I probably differed with him on.) I found it fascinating that he could balance all of those ideas in his head, a conservative ideology that was devoid of religion and yet fully embraced culture. It's a rarity in this world, especially as the contemporary conservative movement condenses more and more. And yet, in his uniquity, he also struck me as indicative of another trend, the way one rigid ideology gives way easily to another. Hitchens, like many neoconservatives, moved to that viewpoint from Marxism, a seemingly irrational jump until you see the desperate need for ideological rigor, how it causes one piece of information to radically transform a point of view rather than mellow or complicate it. For some people, ideologies are all or nothing affairs, with little room for ambiguity. Often, I fear I only see ambiguity, so naturally I find ideologues bewildering, and fascinating.

My Republican uncle, whom I love dearly, will occasionally pull out the old chestnut (Orwell, I think, but I can't be bothered to look it up), that if you're not liberal when you're young, you have no heart, and if you're not conservative when you're old, you have no brain. It's one of those maxims that's incredibly clever sounding, but there's not really a lot of truth in it. I like to think, for the most part, you either become more rigid as you grow older, or more flexible, the coin flip of which depends on your circumstances, the narrative of life that's brought you to that point. I find I've gotten no more conservative over the years, even as I careen toward 40, but I have become more practical, and more patient. Small political battles don't irk me the way they used to, especially ones where I feel I can see the tide of history taking its course, no matter which arbitrary side of the political spectrum wins a minor judicial or legislative battle. Please don't confuse this with apathy. It's more like déjà vu.

Hitchens' death had all of this much on my mind, if only because I'm always happy to entertain the idea that I'm wrong about things, that the world works in ways far different than my experience and education lead me to believe. I like a good argument, and Hitchens made many, although ultimately I found his worldview far too narrow, and like most conservative ideologies, far too driven by hubris and xenophobia for my taste. Still, I respected him, and that counts for something in my book. It's alright to respect people you disagree with. Indeed, I wish it happened more often.

All of this was coalescing in my head when Vaclav Havel died. I was a student in England in the time shortly after the fall of the Berln Wall and the collapse of the Soviet Union. Consequently, I have no equivocations in my admiration for Havel. He was an easy figure to admire -- a writer and thinker who galvanized a nation to overthrow a dictator in a bloodless revolution. That's the sort of thing that makes an impression. Never mind that there had been plenty of Czech blood spilled in the years leading up to the demise of Communism, it was a marvel to see this writer, this man whose only weapon was language, bring about so much positive change. It was an inspiration, and one I cling to to this day. Moreover, over the years, I was struck by how much his role leading his country was thrust upon him, how it never seemed to fit well. He had never pursued power, and if he lead, it's because he was the person there when it needed to be done. As I admired his accomplishments, it was that sense of pragmatism and self-sacrifice that always struck me as most noble. Power only wears well on those who don't want it, and it was very clear he didn't. Even in America, where our politics have become a sort of reality television spectacle that seems largely divorced from its own day-to-day consequences, there is something uncomfortable about a politician who leads by assumption, taking it for granted that they, indeed, should be in charge. We've seen enough of those in both Republican and Democratic political candidates, and through the lens of hindsight, it's amazing how clearly that assumption was at the core of their defeat. "Power corrupts," as the cliché goes, and there's some truth to that. The only way for it not to corrupt is to have some humility in the face of it, to understand that leadership is not a reward, it's a responsibility ... an onus, even. A necessity, at best. Havel saw that, and that puts him squarely in the minority of anyone who's ever lead a country.

I'm the sort of person who prefers some time to sort out my feelings about big issues and big events. I'm not enamored of leaping into an immediate reaction to the daily news, preferring instead to meditate on events' ramifications. I see very little as unambiguously good or evil. But this week hasn't really allowed for that, as the passing of Hitchens and Havel gave way to today's big news, the death of North Korean dictator Kim Jong-il. It's difficult to imagine a more stark counterpart to Havel's high-minded nobility, or more glaring caution to the dangers of corruption and rigid ideology. I can find no argument to dissuade me that Kim was anything more than a monster. And yet, with this year's deaths of Osama bin-Laden and Muammar Gaddafi, we seem to be in a mean season for monsters. There seems a sense, where the battles we've all been fighting around the world have begun to recede into history, and that the pain we're feeling now -- the burbling discontent that we're seeing everywhere, from the Arab Spring to Occupy, to the protests peppering Europe and Russia, are indicative of something new, a rejection of old systems that force us to conform to rigid ideologies that seem better suited to the 20th century. There is a very real sense, to me at least, that all of this turmoil is the pain of beginnings, not endings. Perhaps I'm simply an optimist. I'm willing to entertain that idea, although I find it unlikely. But somewhere, in the death of heroes and monsters and the cascading chorus of voices on streets across the planet, I find it difficult not to see something taking shape. I have no idea what that something will be. It's what we are on the other side of history, and just what that is we'll find out when we arrive. 

Health Update

Seem to be mending well. Still on medication, which means no alcohol for the foreseeable future, but I don't miss it that much. Am mostly eating normally again, although I'm still minimizing dairy, sweets and coffee.

My appetite is increasing rapidly, and I think large swaths of time eating very lightly have made me voracious for protein. Seriously. Dropping coffee and alcohol has been surprisingly easy, but I'm constantly craving cheeseburgers. Still, getting better, and that's what counts. 

New issue of "Ballard Street"

Got my contributor copy of the new issue of Ballard Street Poetry Journal yesterday, with my poem I Have No Idea Why the Caged Bird Sang. Lea's in this issue, too, with her poem Edits. It's a journal I'm always pleased to be in. They just do lovely work.

I've got a handful of things coming out in the new year, including work in Petrichor Machine, The Collagist, Pearl and The Mas Tequila Review. Good to have things to look forward to.

***

I've been neglecting this blog, lately. Mostly because I've been sick for the past few weeks. Since I went to California, really. I won't go into the details (because they're icky) suffice to say that I'm back on medication and feeling significantly better. There comes a point, when your body is simply miserable for days on end, where you convince yourself that it's never going to end, and that you're going to be this much of a mess forever. I had hit that point a couple times, but now that it's all passing, I'm feeling a lot more positive.

So here's to Western medicine. I will, and not for the first time in my life, gladly accept all the drugs you throw my way.

***

Between being sick and the holiday rush, most of my projects are moving slowly. Still, Pop Culture Notebook has kept going at a nice clip, and while Radius is on slowdown for the holiday, this is a good chance to go see our Pushcart nominees and catch up on some of what we've been doing over there.

My Mother Is A Better Photographer Than I Will Ever Be

Back from California, and let me tell you: It was an adventure. Poetry, music, theme parks, attacking emus, trips to the emergency room! I'll get around to writing it all down soon enough. But I went to work today after flying a redeye back to New England, so I'm a little wiped right now. So instead, I'll draw attention to a fact that I've known for a long time, but which I've not really talked much about publicly: That my mother kicks my ass as a photographer.

First off, here's two shots of Laguna Beach which she took Halloween morning, that just blow me away:



Nice, but then there's this, which is awesome:



Here's a nice shot she took of me and Lea when we went to Universal Studios:

Lastly, here's us, at breakfast at Harbor House in Dana Point:



Seriously. And all of these are on her phone. The woman has mad camera skills.

Oh, Why Not? One More Time ...

I saw a friend of mine who is involved with the #Occupy Movement quote this on Google+, and I re-posted the pic for his benefit/amusement, but I don't like the photo tools there, and I can't seem to make the picture big enough to really read the type. So, here he is, one more time: Captain America gives some encouragement to the #Occupy Movement:



Thanks, Cap! You always just what to say.