Helen H. Moore's Blog, page 876
February 1, 2016
Twitter berates Clinton campaign for preemptively declaring victory in Iowa caucus: “She’s a liar!”
Hillary Clinton’s early lead evaporates as Iowa Democratic caucuses tighten up







Martin O’Malley ends presidential campaign after distant third place Iowa caucus showing






Twitter reacts with great mirth to Trump not “winning” GOP primary in Iowa tonight






Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz position themselves to be the Iowa surprises with 55 percent of GOP precincts reporting






Dr. Ben Carson claims to be going home to Florida after Iowa caucuses to prepare for Prayer Breakfast






Donald Trump’s a proud a**hole: The big flaw in the Democrats’ planned assault on the GOP front-runner
The emerging approach to defining Trump is an updated iteration of the “Bain Strategy” — the Obama 2012 campaign’s devastating attacks on Mitt Romney’s dealings with investment firm Bain Capital, according to a dozen Democratic operatives and campaign aides familiar with the accelerating planning inside Clinton’s orbit. This time, Democrats would highlight the impact of Trump’s four business bankruptcies — and his opposition to wage hikes at his casinos and residential properties — on the families of his workers.As the Washington Post’s Greg Sargent writes, this line of attack suffers from being right, but in the wrong direction. Trump’s appeal is rooted in his promises to do unspeakable violence to the existing political order, he writes, and so “it’s unclear whether painting Trump as a con artist and a predatory capitalist would be enough, at least with a certain segment of voters.” He’s right, and I think this approach could actually backfire somewhat. You have to be very careful in how you go after Trump. The attacks on Romney over his Bain Capital days were effective because Romney had presented himself as a genial, good-natured Mr. Fix-It who knew how to run a business and create jobs. In that light, pointing out that his company invested in businesses that outsourced jobs was a stinging hit on Romney’s image. Trump, on the other hand, revels in the cutthroat nature of business – he’s most famous for telling people that they’ve been fired – and his image is built around the idea that he’s a tough and impossibly shrewd businessman. To that end, he uses the politically thorny aspects of his business record to his advantage. Take China, for example. Trump lashes out against the Chinese constantly and complains that they’re screwing us over and says he’ll be so tough on China that all the jobs will come back and yadda yadda yadda. The obvious retort to all this is that Trump-branded products are made in China, and that Trump is contributing to the ruinous economic advantage that he says China currently holds over us. Trump won’t deny that – he’ll embrace it and then flip it to reinforce his own message. Here’s what he wrote in "Crippled America" on this very subject:
I know from my own experience that this is a difficult problem. The Chinese are very savvy businesspeople, and they have great advantages over our manufacturers. I’ve had several Trump-brand products made there. That’s a good example of the difference between a politician and a businessman. To stay in business I have to be smarter than my competition. I could make a very important point if I refused to have my goods manufactured there. As long as we’re playing under these conditions American companies don’t have a choice. Third-world countries have substantially lower production costs. They have lower overhead and pay their workers a lot less. As a businessman, I have an obligation to all of my employees and to consumers and stockholders to produce the best product at the lowest possible price. However, as a matter of global policy, we want to take away China’s advantages.See what he did? He took a line of attack against him – that he’s a hypocrite for railing against Chinese companies stealing American jobs – and twisted it to make himself seem smart, cunning and responsible. You can scoff at the warped logic and internal inconsistencies (he says he’s outsmarting the competition by working with China but also says he doesn’t have a choice), but Trump has a knack for selling this stuff. Just a couple of weeks ago, South Carolina Gov. Nikki Haley made headlines by unsubtly suggesting that Trump was one of the “angriest voices” in her party. What did Trump do when attacked like this? He accepted the designation with pride and used it to reinforce his own message. That’s why I’m dubious about this line of attack from the Democrats on Trump’s economic record. They’re essentially planning to call him an asshole, pointing out that he cost people their jobs and refused to give them raises. “He’s a landlord,” one Democrat told Politico. “Everybody f---ing hates their landlord.” The problem is that a lot of Trump’s appeal is based on the fact that he’s an asshole. He embraces it and he’s good at spinning it as a sign of toughness, and the Democrats should be wary about helping Trump make his point for him.The Iowa Republican caucus is this evening, and if the polls are to be trusted, we’re very likely to witness the first, thoroughly remarkable step toward a destination so many of us thought was unreachable: 2016 Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump. Trump’s main competitor in the state, Ted Cruz, is stumbling. The next closest candidate, Marco Rubio, is a distant third. Everything seems to be coming up Trump – assuming he can get his supporters to turn out. As Politico reports this morning, the Democrats are taking seriously the notion that Trump will be the Republican candidate and are duly collecting opposition research and prepping their lines of attack. The gist of what they’re planning is to paint Trump as a next-level version of the 2012 hit on Mitt Romney – a heartless capitalist whose business decisions have hurt people:
The emerging approach to defining Trump is an updated iteration of the “Bain Strategy” — the Obama 2012 campaign’s devastating attacks on Mitt Romney’s dealings with investment firm Bain Capital, according to a dozen Democratic operatives and campaign aides familiar with the accelerating planning inside Clinton’s orbit. This time, Democrats would highlight the impact of Trump’s four business bankruptcies — and his opposition to wage hikes at his casinos and residential properties — on the families of his workers.As the Washington Post’s Greg Sargent writes, this line of attack suffers from being right, but in the wrong direction. Trump’s appeal is rooted in his promises to do unspeakable violence to the existing political order, he writes, and so “it’s unclear whether painting Trump as a con artist and a predatory capitalist would be enough, at least with a certain segment of voters.” He’s right, and I think this approach could actually backfire somewhat. You have to be very careful in how you go after Trump. The attacks on Romney over his Bain Capital days were effective because Romney had presented himself as a genial, good-natured Mr. Fix-It who knew how to run a business and create jobs. In that light, pointing out that his company invested in businesses that outsourced jobs was a stinging hit on Romney’s image. Trump, on the other hand, revels in the cutthroat nature of business – he’s most famous for telling people that they’ve been fired – and his image is built around the idea that he’s a tough and impossibly shrewd businessman. To that end, he uses the politically thorny aspects of his business record to his advantage. Take China, for example. Trump lashes out against the Chinese constantly and complains that they’re screwing us over and says he’ll be so tough on China that all the jobs will come back and yadda yadda yadda. The obvious retort to all this is that Trump-branded products are made in China, and that Trump is contributing to the ruinous economic advantage that he says China currently holds over us. Trump won’t deny that – he’ll embrace it and then flip it to reinforce his own message. Here’s what he wrote in "Crippled America" on this very subject:
I know from my own experience that this is a difficult problem. The Chinese are very savvy businesspeople, and they have great advantages over our manufacturers. I’ve had several Trump-brand products made there. That’s a good example of the difference between a politician and a businessman. To stay in business I have to be smarter than my competition. I could make a very important point if I refused to have my goods manufactured there. As long as we’re playing under these conditions American companies don’t have a choice. Third-world countries have substantially lower production costs. They have lower overhead and pay their workers a lot less. As a businessman, I have an obligation to all of my employees and to consumers and stockholders to produce the best product at the lowest possible price. However, as a matter of global policy, we want to take away China’s advantages.See what he did? He took a line of attack against him – that he’s a hypocrite for railing against Chinese companies stealing American jobs – and twisted it to make himself seem smart, cunning and responsible. You can scoff at the warped logic and internal inconsistencies (he says he’s outsmarting the competition by working with China but also says he doesn’t have a choice), but Trump has a knack for selling this stuff. Just a couple of weeks ago, South Carolina Gov. Nikki Haley made headlines by unsubtly suggesting that Trump was one of the “angriest voices” in her party. What did Trump do when attacked like this? He accepted the designation with pride and used it to reinforce his own message. That’s why I’m dubious about this line of attack from the Democrats on Trump’s economic record. They’re essentially planning to call him an asshole, pointing out that he cost people their jobs and refused to give them raises. “He’s a landlord,” one Democrat told Politico. “Everybody f---ing hates their landlord.” The problem is that a lot of Trump’s appeal is based on the fact that he’s an asshole. He embraces it and he’s good at spinning it as a sign of toughness, and the Democrats should be wary about helping Trump make his point for him.






The genius of “Infinite Jest”: How David Foster Wallace’s masterpiece saved the “big” novel — and why it’s not “a thousand-page suicide note”






January 31, 2016
“Too stupid to be c*nts”: The new normal of toxic male entitlement on campus
Even in mid-October, the Phoenix heat is brutal, the very air like a toss of acid to the skin. But this evening, when I exit the creative writing workshop I teach, there is a faint, delicious breeze, the first in months. I take a deep, untense breath. How suddenly beautiful it is, here.
And class tonight was a joy -- a dozen talented students who are kind to each other, insightful, collegial, respectful; midway through this semester, I feel we have truly connected, that we are speaking the same language. Campus is typically an obstacle course of careening skateborders, zooming bicycles, but now it is mellow-paced, students strolling home or to one of the thousand local bars. I am strolling, too, planning: homemade tacos, a glass or two of wine, an on-demand episode of "The Knick." My step is light.
A guy, a kid, a student, is walking toward me. Tallish, 20ish, backpackish, T-shirt and jeans, the ubiquitous cellphone at his ear. He is sweet-faced, rumpled. He looks a bit familiar -- a former student, whose name has slipped away? A current student, in my large undergrad lecture course, where I am still struggling to put faces to names?
Pop quiz: If a tired middle-aged fiction professor is heading home for tacos at x speed, and a 20-something guy student is heading to his dorm (girlfriend waiting?) at y speed, at what point – in time, in history, in consciousness – do their paths cross?
Twenty feet, 10 feet. He is talking at top cellphone volume, but my mind is on Clive Owen, so I register sound but not words. At 5 feet from each other, our eyes meet and in the second I offer a big pleasant smile (I adore my students, isn't the world lovely?) I hear what he is saying, has been saying, is continuing to say:
“Those fucking girls are too stupid to be bitches. They’re too fucking stupid to be cunts.”
There is a flash of recognition between us: We are student and professor; we are kid and adult; we are male and female. But which is it we are recognizing each other as?
I don’t know what happens to my smile-formed face, but in that second I see a flicker to his eyes, as if some calculation of gender or age or role in life is happening in his brain but not happening quite fast enough to lower his voice or change his words or even stop mid-word in whatever word -- cunts? -- he is on.
I am startled, I feel a clutch in my gut, my face go hot. But neither of us misses a step. We each continue on our algebraic way. The moment is over. Go home, I think. Wine and a hot cable TV doctor await you. Just roll your eyes, laugh it off. Chill. Oh, kids today. You do not have to solve for x or y. Boys will be boys. Shrug.
But I am disturbed. The moment sticks with me for days, creeps under my skin, and I am not entirely sure why. I am puzzled to be so disturbed. When I mention it to a younger (30ish) female colleague a few weeks later, she does indeed shrug. So what? That kind of thing would not bother her. I try to explain my unease. Well, maybe it’s a generational thing, she says. The word stings a bit, but she is right, of course; there is now a full generational divide between my students and me on what is or is not appropriate language and behavior.
For god’s sake: “Appropriate?” I actually think that way, now? What’s the big deal? His words were not directed at me. He didn’t spit at me. He didn’t assault me, or mug me, grab the weathered-leather bookbag from my professorial shoulder, abscond with my lecture notes and wallet. He didn't throw acid. A few years ago, a student was shot dead on the street three blocks from where this kid and I passed each other. So, why am I upset?
Perhaps I am simply offended, yes. I am a bit prudish about language. There are five or six words I avoid saying aloud; they either feel linguistically impoverished, or too juvenile and sniggly schoolyard, or too harsh to my ears. Cunt. The first time I typed “cunt” into a short story (and I have, my fiction does tend, ironically, toward the explicitly sexual), my hands froze above the keyboard. It made me cringe just to type the letters. In telling my colleague about the incident with the student (no, it didn’t rise to the level of incident, not even an anecdote, it was merely a moment), I said “cunt” aloud for probably the first time in my life.
But it's just a word, right? I trade in words, I respect and am fascinated by them, by their exhilarating range and infinite variety, and so I want them used mindfully. I want their power respected. I want honest words – I cannot stand cutesy euphemisms for body parts or bodily functions. And context matters. In my short story, “cunt” was the right word, the only word, the exact word the character would say. Early in every school term I casually drop a well-placed “fuck” into my lectures, or read aloud an excerpt from Palahniuk or Johnson, to assure students This Is Literature and We Are All Adults, Here. That I am a Cool Professor. A word is a word is a word; we can both honor and deconstruct its power. Cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt, all right? No biggie. I am shrugging, see?
Maybe we’re getting somewhere. I am a teacher of creative writing and literature; let’s attempt an exegesis of the text:
“Those fucking girls are too stupid to be bitches. They’re too fucking stupid to be cunts.”
So, if those “fucking girls” are too stupid to be bitches, then “bitch” becomes honorific, doesn’t it? “Bitch,” therefore, implies a superior intelligence, a keen, Machiavellian power, deserving of respect. Those poor fucking girls, the fucking girls in question, will never rise to the elevated level of "bitch." Poor girls.
No, wait – perhaps it is because these are girls who are fucking? And that is what makes them stupid? So, problem solved: If the girls cease to be fucking girls, then they perhaps, someday, can become smart enough to be bitches. There is hope for these girls, then, the possibility of a bright future! If they stop fucking then they will no longer be fucking stupid, and then they just maybe...can become cunts? Intelligent, clever, brainiac cunts?
That doesn’t seem right, though, this slut-shaming theory. Maybe I should study the subtext, the character's underlying agenda that fuels every good line of dialogue. The kid was impassioned. Wounded, perhaps? Perhaps his girlfriend had just dumped him, and what he said was an agonized expression of pain. He is a complex and disaffected youth, and she was the only girl who ever understood him. Who got him. He gave her his heart, and she pulverized the tender thing to mulch. She probably laughed, doing so. Probably belittled and humiliated him. What a bitch. What a cunt, yes. That his pain would alchemize to coarse anger, to profane rage, is so understandable, his words so appropriate, honest and heartfelt. Give this kid an A.
But I replay the moment; I reexamine his manner, I rehear what he said and how he said it. He was not impassioned, or enraged. Not at all. The heightened volume of his voice was more attributable to cellphone-speak, or the focus on hurrying home (girlfriend waiting?). There was no pain in his voice, no cry to the universe for understanding and support. He was casual, actually. Impersonal. These were casual, impersonal words to him, casual thoughts. He has thought this before. He has already formed these sentences in his mind, perhaps said them multiple times, and that is why they flew so lightly and easily from his mouth, like the well-practiced tourist-phrases and questions one memorizes from a guidebook to ease travel: Where can I find a bathroom? These fucking girls are too stupid to be bitches. I am an American tourist and do not speak your language. These fucking girls are too stupid to be cunts. Where can I find an ATM?
And there were other students strolling around, plenty of them girls, and how would they feel if they heard these words from this sweet-faced kid? Maybe the kid actually was hurrying to meet up with his girlfriend for IPAs at some bar, they have been dating awhile, things are going great, he will hold her hand and smile while she talks about her day, and they will go back to her place for sex, and it will be awesome, and how would she feel if she’d heard him say these things? I think of my niece, a recent college graduate -- this guy could be her boyfriend. Her roommate. A kid she sat next to in class, swapped notes with. Would hearing that disturb her?
And I am still puzzled about that moment of recognition between us, when our eyes met. Did this kid recognize me in my role as a professor, as someone with some kind of authority, to whom some kind of respect is, ostensibly, due? He could be one of my students, yes; has he sat there in class or workshop, collegially, respectfully, while I’m blathering about narrative structure and the need for a character’s agenda to fuel dialogue, thinking I’m smart enough to be a bitch? Or that Professor Ison isn't smart enough to be a cunt?
Or was that flicker in his eyes because he recognized me as someone old enough to be his mother, or an aunt? An older woman, an old woman, someone a kid his age might, ostensibly, choose to watch his words around? My friends' teenage sons tease and joke around with me with familiar ease, but they surely don't speak to me the way they speak to their buddies, of course not. So, was it simply too late for this kid to stop saying what he was saying as I passed by, or to lower his voice around this friend-of-his-mother's kind of lady, and that flicker was a kind of abashment?
I do an unscientific survey of millennial women: a bartender, the checker at Trader Joe's, the girl who cuts my hair, my niece. I relate the moment with as little commentary and with as much nonjudgmental impassivity as I can. The consensus: None of them are shocked, or even surprised. A few of them laugh. Yeah, it's not crazy to hear a guy talk that way, they tell me. Well, a guy's never talked to me that way, one says, but my roommate's boyfriend talks that way to her, about other girls, and it's almost a compliment, like he doesn't mean her, it's those other bitchy girls who are cunts, and he can talk that way about them because she's cool. They shrug.
So, this is normal, now, something to be expected, accepted, shrugged off? Maybe I really am an uncool professor, because that is crazy. I still understand the language of dehumanizing hatred, no matter how indifferent the tone. I feel the acidic burn, no matter how casually it is tossed around. There is no generational demographic wherein this is OK -- and shrugging it off bestows impunity, immunity, allows this kid to stroll around spewing at top, indifferent volume.
And now I'm angry.
Because finally, I realize: What I felt in that brief encounter with the young guy was not offense, or discomfort or puzzlement, or the comfortable detachment of sociological or linguistic analysis. It wasn't even that I felt disturbed. What I felt in that moment was fear. I felt vulnerable. Because any protective stature or authority I think I might possess due to my age or professorial rank are still trumped by the fact that I am female. I’m angry that I felt fear. And I'm angry at myself for doing nothing, saying nothing -- the coward's version of "shrugging it off" -- because I felt that fear.
His words were not directed at me, no, but that flicker in his eyes as he oh-so-casually disparaged women, girls, females, still felt assaultive. And this young guy’s casual loathing of women is all the more dangerous due to its seeming detachment; that is what oils the frictionless shift from thought to speech to behavior, to what Toni Morrison might call a “disinterested violence.” I’m angry to have been struck by the simmering threat of that, insidious as radiation. I’m angry it poisons and makes painful the very air.





