2020 Candidate Roundup, Part I: The Great Democratic Party Primary & Other Excursions

Well folks, the clown car keeps getting bigger over at the 2020 Democratic Primary. If this trend continues, pretty soon there will be more Democrats running for President than will be running for the Senate. Good job, Chuck Schumer! It shows you that running for Senate has now become harder than President, otherwise O’Rourke would be trying to take out Cornyn instead of Trump. Running for President means you get to travel! You get to see the country! You get to go to Iowa! You are invited onto CNN for town halls! You get to live on a bus! When you lose you’re considered for a cabinet post, or ambassadorship! You might even get a gig on TV or a chance to sell another book! Lose a senate election though and what do you get? Obscurity.

Although maybe that’s changing with O’Rourke…

Anyway, there’s 24 candidates running with any real shot of winning. By “shot” I think it’s helpful to visualize a basketball court. There’s the candidates standing on a ladder next to the hoop and those right under the next. Then there are candidates aiming from the free throw line, as well as those shooting for a three-pointer. Finally you have people in the stands, who could in theory still make the shot. In total, there are 24 of these candidates in the primary so far. There are of course people running who have no name recognition at all, no money, no presence, no experience, and lack a decent website to boot. These candidates are too numerous to bother with.  They are beyond the court and outside the arena. There’s no chance of them getting the ball inside the net.

I’m going with 24 because it seems Steve Bullock and Bill DeBlasio are running. There’s also people have said they are forming exploratory committees but haven’t filled out that final ream of paperwork to “officially” say they are in the race. Regardless I’m putting the number at 24. That’s who I’m going to deal with in this blog post.

24 candidates, sounds crazy, no? Well, yes, this is a rather large batch. What’s surprising is how little separates most of the people running. The number of White moderates (Dr. King’s favorite people) is extremely high. I guess that’s par for the course. That’s who the party treasures and nurtures, telling them they represent “the real America” (wherever that is). So why not run for president then, since you represent the heartland and you bleed apple pie?

However we can’t let these MWGs (mediocre/moderate White guys) make us too cynical about this field. It does include the most diverse crowd of candidates for either party to date. Several minorities are represented for sure: African American, Hispanic Americans, LGBT Americans, Asian Americans, and Jewish Americans (and no, I’m not going to include Native Americans for Warren). We also have a record number of women running, who in fact, are not a minority. I know that may surprise some people, given how women have been historically excluded and oppressed, but rest assured it wasn’t because of a lack of numbers.

In terms of experience, there’s diversity too. We have gurus and governors, senators and Silicon Valley tycoons, and Congress critters and Mayors. I think that’s good. You don’t want just a bunch of senators, or a group of governors on the stage, because the problems facing this country require action at all levels. So feedback from a local state, house and cabinet perspective is good. Now, that doesn’t mean all that experience is the same and that everyone on the stage should be president if they’ve been in government for years. Only that a little perspective could be welcome.

That said, the debates probably won’t provide us much discussion, or any real debate. It’s not that I’m bemoaning the end of some golden age of public discourse, only that there’s too many people on stage for anyone to say anything of note. If everyone running manages to qualify, there will be 24 people up on the dais, and how much time realistically will each one of them get? Realistically how much have anything to say too? Perhaps we’ll get the first Twitter-style debate. Each candidate will only get to make statements and respond to questions and attacks using 280 characters or less. The jabs and jests might be worth it.

One thing that will have to go is the audience. First, because they’ll have to make room for all the candidates. Second, the candidates will just end up playing for an audience reaction. That’s how the lower-tier ones will try to get to the front of the pack. The Trump strategy. If we have to have a debate (personally I think the Town Halls should just be enough) then let it be someplace without obnoxious hooting and hollering.  Part of the reason Trump was able to dominate in the debate was ability to manipulate the audience and their reaction, even when it didn’t agree with him. That and his ability to use an air horn .

Will the debates be a make or break moment for the candidates? Undoubtedly, they have to be. If a candidate wants to break out from the lower tear of no–names and has-beens (and those who have never-been) they have to speak out and say something, or forever hold their peace. That should make for a little entertainment. The real interesting thing to see is who has already given up on the White House and is trying to position themselves for a VP slot, or a spot in the cabinet. There will be candidates who go after Sanders in order to endear themselves to Biden and the DNC. Watch out for them. Bernie will turn the Blue Dogs into snakes on that stage. Whether he’ll be able to drive them out of the party is another matter.

Then there will be those candidates who realize they have to go after Biden, since there’s no chance of them winning over Sanders voters, and because there’s no chance they’ll be on the ticket with him. Beto, Warren, and Gillibrand are part of this group. To a lesser extent, Gabbard is too. It’s highly unlikely Biden would want any of them as VP. Beto is too male and too White (and his youthful Punk cross-dressing notwithstanding, too straight). Meanwhile, Warren has feuded with Biden over the banks. Gillibrand could be selected, since she balances out the male at the top of the ticket. However, she represents a solidly blue state, can’t win over progressives, and burned her bridges with Hillary Clinton at the height of #MeToo. Her treatment of Franken also makes her a liability in getting the support of party loyalists.

Of course who ends up becoming VP might not have anything to do with the desires of the candidates. If Biden’s current lead collapses (a guy can dream, right?) and nobody has a majority of the pledged delegates, then some serious horse-trading will have to commence. Everyone wants to avoid a contested convention. It makes for great television and a terrible campaign. We haven’t had one since 1976, and the party who had it lost (although maybe shots of Tony Orlando dancing with Betty Ford were what really sank the Ford’s chances of reelection). At that stage it’s quite likely that one of the two front-runners will try to convince one of the mid-tier candidates to come on board and bring their delegates over. Otherwise, the superdelegates will get involved and when they do, that will further split the party.

That’s why if I had to bet on who will be VP, it’s going to be someone like Kamala Harris. Now it’s possible she’ll break out from her position in the current polling and start winning primaries. She’s relying on California’s early start to try and propel her forward with a homefield advantage. If that falls through, she could still end up with a decent pool of delegates that will be necessary to get a majority.  She will provide generational, racial, and gender balance against either Biden or Bernie, who seem to be the likely front-runners at this point. She would also provide a balance with Warren too, if she takes the lead. Harris provides a regional angle as well. The Democrats haven’t had a Westerner on the ticket since…well…really ever. The farthest west candidates have been from Texas or South Dakota.

It’s still too early to see who will be at the top of the ticket. Biden is certainly polling in the lead but the debates could cut that down, especially as people realize what he was actually doing before Obama nominated him for Vice President. Remember, Biden ran twice for president on his own merits in 1988 (before AOC was even born) and 2008. Each time his campaign went nowhere. The only person who likes the real Biden is Biden. For everyone else, it’s either misplaced nostalgia for Obama, a desperate desire for normalcy, mistaking Biden for a meme, or thinking he’s in the middle of the party when in reality he’s on its right. By himself, he’s completely unappealing. Who knows how long his campaign can keep up the illusion that hides the real candidate?

There’s also no telling what will happen in the news between now and the primaries, or what will happen during the primaries as well. Party shenanigans could cause issues with delegate allotment. Plus the instability of Trump means a foreign intervention or a recession that throw a wrench into things. It’s hard to say who benefits from that sort of situation. If we invade Iran, Venezuela, North Korea, or all three, it could make an explicitly anti-war candidate look better by comparison. It might also entice voters to try and put someone more stable in office for its own sake. A recession might lead the party to support someone with a business background, then again, our current president has such experience and look at Trump’s legacy of unnecessary tax cuts, feuding with the Federal Reserve, trade wars, and subsidizing coal plants.

On the other hand, a recession could make the party faithful see red, in a good way. Not in a let's bail out the banks one more time kind of way. Again, a boy can dream.

Going to the Dogs

Dear readers, I will give you a fair warning. This short story is technically a reprint. However, it was published several years ago, so it's probably new to most of you, right? It was published in Clever Magazine then, and it's published in Clever Magazine now. Of course, back then it was called Apex Prey, now it's called Cat and Mouse Games. It also says I live in Montclair, New Jersey. of course that's not been the case for many years now.

Happy National Poetry Month

Celebrate with poems by me, to you, courtesy of The Green Light, and the Remington Review (page 54)

I Got the Best Poetry Folks

I got the best poetry. The best. That's why they all come to me. The editors. They say, Ben, we just have to have your poems. They're the best. People want them. People are reading. People, they say things, things about me! Folks, Best Poetry published me, so it has to be true. They have my works, three of my works folks, Compositions Without Gloves, Human Perfectibility, and Hyperbolic Times.

Also, there's poems of  mine at River Poets Journal, part of their napkin poems series in honor of national poetry month.

Three Poems in Two Journals

Three poems to add to the collection of published works by yours truly. One is in Cacti Fur and is about a view in Harlem I haven't seen in nearly a year. Two more are in Local Nomad. The recent issue is themed around the concept of temp work and the precariat experience. 

Objection, Warning, Acceptance

There's a poem out there. A poem called Objection, Warning, Acceptance. A fine little work, in a fine little journal that comes out right before the trees begin to bud. That publication? Orson's Review. Its issues have a crisp, crumb coating. Wait...that's terrible. How does an online journal have a crumb coating? I mean, the crisp is fine. I wouldn't direct any living actor in Shakespeare this way. This is not the finest French champagne...I'll be in my trailer.

Part of the Conglomerate

A poem of mine "Cher Sunny" is in THE CONGLOMERATE. You'll have to search or scroll down to find it. Come on, you can use the online exercise. You've been spoiled all these years by direct links. On the way you can enjoy art that features ravens, or crows. I can't tell the difference. Believe it or not, ravens don't actually shout "Nevermore!"

Entitled to a Presentation of My Works

Happy Sunday morning. Are you feeling disoriented from Daylight Savings Time? Put that to good use by reading some poems of mine in the McKinley Review to put your world back together.

Short Story Time

Bored with too much time on your hands this weekend? Go over to the Potato Soup Journal and read a short story I wrote. It's called "I Mustache You a Question."

I'm Big in Malawi

Pictured: Not the current flag of Malawi

Three poems of mine are on a Malawi-based literary site: Nthanda Review.It case you've never heard of the country before, here are some facts about Malawi to share.

Brooklyn Is Berning, Bernie Sanders’ First Campaign Rally: A Review

He's above the blue hoodie

Of course it had to snow. As Bernie Sanders would put it, we got Vermont weather in honor of his visit to Brooklyn. Of course, it’s not that strange to get snow in March. Oregon Trail taught me that, which is why it’s better to leave Independence, Missouri in April. We think somehow because there’s been a change in the page of the calendar, spring is suddenly supposed to be here. March is as good as May, just as early September should be exactly like late November. Nevertheless, I went to the rally this Saturday at Brooklyn College.

Authentic Brooklyn snow

I couldn’t trust the sidewalks. Otherwise I would’ve walked there. Many of them were slushy and icy, while every intersection seemed to have the kind of puddles made famous by Groundhog Day. That meant using the buses or trains to get to the rally. I opted for the train since taking buses involved transfers, and I would be above ground, dealing with the cold and snow all over again. But using a train wasn’t’ a quick fix either. Thanks to the legacy of Manhattan’s imperialism over Brooklyn, there wasn’t a direct way to get there. All lines lead into the city, instead of crisscrossing the borough. I had to take the Q north, then get on the 2, and using Atlantic Avenue as a slingshot to get down to the campus.

The weather gave me mixed feelings. I’m not sure if there’s a name for it. The snow was a disappointment on one hand, and a blessing for me on the other. I wanted there to be a big turnout so the event would be a success and get coverage. On the other hand, I wanted fewer people there so I could get a good view. It’s like how you want everyone in the world to use public transportation, just not when you want to get on the train or the bus. When I reached the end of the 2 line and got off, I saw lots of people moving with me. That was the first time I got a sense of how many people were going to the rally. It was a lot.

Of course, none of us knew exactly where to go or how to get in. As I left the Flatbush Avenue Station, I headed into the part of Brooklyn I call Little America. Traffic was coming in all directions and Berniecrats stumbled around looking for the college. Eventually, I got my bearings and found a side street that took me to the entrance. That was not enough though, there was a line to get in, and it snaked around the block and then some. I’d never seen anything like it before. It just went on and on with no end in sight. At one point I thought maybe I would end up all the way in Canarsie, or Dead Horse Bay, freezing and hardly feeling the Bern.

I didn’t have to travel that far, but it was still a good distance. Good for Bernie, I thought, good for America, bad for me, but then again, I too am America or something like that. It was hard not to be in a Whitmanesque mood. Everyone was upbeat, including the campaign volunteers. Even the people selling buttons stuck to umbrellas seemed happier than normal, as well as the cranks shoving newspapers and poorly xeroxed manifestos in our faces. Sure it was cold and wet, with snow clinging to the branches. Nevertheless there was a sense of excitement and anticipation.

It only grew as the line inched closer to the East Quad, the site of the rally. The path to the event was lined with campaign volunteers who thanked us all for coming, then high-fived us. I admit I was a little restrained at first. What was I getting myself into here? So many genuine people, what was the catch? As a Millennial, I’m not used to such displays without a catch. I remember plenty of occasions of forced fun throughout my years in school, college, work retreats, and summer camp bondings. Energy and enthusiasm for the lamest of things like new regulation coasters, corporate sponsored trust falls, and cheers about how one particular student government association was going to kick the ass of another particular student government association.

In my head I went through the possibilities. Was I being led into a cult? I know a thing or two about them and I couldn’t say this was one. There were no matching uniforms or rhetoric. I heard no code words and twisted forms of grammar. I had a clear example of a cult outside of the event too. In addition to the members of other Leftwing groups, there were LaRouche supporters. I saw them while I was waiting in line to get in. One of them had a sign that read: THE GREEN NEW DEAL IS SUICIDE. Another had a shirt that asked WHO IS LYNDON H. LAROUCHE? “A dead man!” I wanted to yell at him, but I didn’t. (Don’t engage with LaRouche supporters folks, just blast music at a non-scientific pitch at them).

The other possibility? My mind went to Disney. That’s the only other example I had to go with. All these smiling people, excited, and welcoming me forward, they were leading me to Bernieland. Or maybe Sandersworld. On the other side of the gate would be rides and games. I could play whack-a-Bezos and go on the equality-coaster, which would just go in a circle on a level track. Of course, this idea was nonsense. As soon as I reached the East Quad, I saw nothing but signs, bleachers, flags, and a crowd of people nervously waiting for Bernie to take the stage. This is what faith in democracy looks like, I guess.

It was a diverse group, though it was younger and Whiter than Brooklyn as a whole. It was still a far cry from the stereotypes from 2016. College-aged Berniebros were there for sure but their voices didn’t dominate or drown out anyone else during the event. I saw people from all walks of life from the borough, including people too young to vote. There was also a snowman covered in merchandise for the campaign. Bernie Snowmanders, if you will.

The Whitest Berniebro 

The event opened with the Star-Spangled Banner. It reminded me how much I hate the Star-Spangled Banner. It’s a terrible tune about a mostly forgotten war that expresses nothing of value about America. We fought, the flag was still there, we’re great. Don’t ask any questions about the people in chains living in the shacks next to the home of the brave. Plus it just leads to people showing off when they can manage to sing it. I wasn’t sure why Bernie needed to open with it or who would be convinced by it. I mean, who is on the fence thinking he’s the incarnation of Lenin but would support him now because of that song? From now on it’s going to be This Land Is Your Land (including the verse about private property), and nothing else.

A series of speakers went before Bernie. I understand why they were there and they all said good things. However, it was cold and I wish the introductions were a little bit shorter. I’m sure everybody prepared their remarks for warmer weather. Jane Sanders went on and talked about Bernie’s roots in Brooklyn. I learned about Bernie’s support for a strike in Pennsylvania from a union official, and received pep talks from Nina Turner and Terry Alexander. Shaun King spoke about Bernie’s history in the Civil Rights movement in the 1960s. I learned about his protests against the Willis Wagons, which were substandard trailers used to house Black students in overcrowded redlined schools in Chicago.

Waiting for Bernie

Throughout the whole time, any mention of Brooklyn led to massive cheers from everyone, because it’s the law that when somebody says Brooklyn, people from there have to make noise. None of the other boroughs do this, I think. Anyway, this habit backfired at least for one person in the crowd. Shaun said that Bernie was “born in Brooklyn, the year the Holocaust started.” He paused after saying Brooklyn, and somebody cheered right after, which made it sound they were happy about the Holocaust. Who knows if that will be used for fodder to claim Sanders or his supporters are anti-Semites?

Then it was finally time for Bernie. I was losing feeling in my fingers, but I soldiered on. I had a rolled-up copy of the Independent and used it to make noise by rapping against my hands. That kept the frostbite at bay. I didn’t have a sign and I don’t know where they came from. They were everywhere though, and they came out to welcome the candidate. I was fortunate to have a good view of Bernie and saw him embrace his wife while surrounded by a sea of signs. They were white or blue, and the blue was either, sky, navy, or Dodger. It was a nice image. Sometimes you come across them in real life and wonder if you’re in a movie.

Bernie looked energetic, although I could see the pink in his face all the way from the back of the East Quad. At one point we began chanting his name and he shushed us. It was not about him, he said, it was about us and what we were going to do together. He pulled no punches and went after Trump directly. However, he didn’t just go on and on about norms and how the Orange man was bad. He made his attacks and then pivoted to the kind of campaign he wanted to run and what he was running for. He mentioned Medicare for All, college for everyone, a reduction in American intervention abroad, criminal justice reform, a $15 minimum wage, ending the Drug War,  and making it easier for workers to join a union.

We were all enthused, cheering, shouting, clapping, and pumping fists. I never thought I would ever get to hear a major party candidate say these things, and use this kind of rhetoric. Of course, he did in 2016 as well, but here I was in public, hearing it directly from Bernie Sanders. Talking about labor rights, and the struggle against the oligarchy in particular. Plus the military industrial complex. Who was the last to sue that phrase? Kucinich in 2008?  No vague platitudes and bromides about “opportunity” and the “American Dream.” A real vision and a road map to getting us to the kind of hope we need and real change we can use. Did he whip out charts and crunch the numbers in front of us? Certainly not.

This was no TED Talk. This was no corporate presentation. This was something more. It was a rally, in the sense that it gathered us together and boosted our beleaguered spirits. But it also needs to be pointed out that it was all about the ideas. Sanders had no slick production behind him (there were no Bernie Babe Dancers). He wasn’t young and bouncing around the stage, his hair was white, thin, and disheveled in the wind. There were no pithy or memorable turns of phrase. Just as in 2016, we were for Bernie because of the vision, not the man. It’s something a lot of pundits and commentators still fail to understand. He has charisma through his ideas, not apart from them.

After Sanders left the stage, we shuffled out through the campus. The Doobie Brothers’ “Takin It to the Streets” played overhead. Perhaps it was a nod to Sanders call for decriminalization of marijuana. It was followed by Jon Lennon’s “Power to the People” and Neil Young’s “Rockin’ in the Free World.” All of these superior to the Star-Spangled Banner. It was jarring to leave the collective warmth of the Brooklyn College campus for the hustle and bustle of Little America (i.e. Flatbush Junction). I watched as people carried their Sanders signs through the neighborhood and did their best to disburse. Some people waved the signs at the cars and buses, others held them close.

Since all the places to eat were packed by Berniecrats, I started walking back to Ditmas Park. The snow had started to melt, and I thought I could make it smoothly along the sidewalks. But it hadn’t melted enough. There were plenty of patches that remained, along with piles blocking the intersections. People hadn’t shoveled and it left glistening hazards behind. I guess it was evidence against the twin pillars of today’s Left. The snow was proof Global Warming is a hoax, and the fact nobody wanted to remove it showed Bernie Sanders’ socialism can’t work. Checkmate liberals...

...nevertheless the specter of Communism still haunts us

Call Me Brackets. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely, having little or no money...

I have two poems in the "Heroes" themed issue of Call Me [ ] (that's the way the title of the journal is structured that's why it's called Call Me Brackets in official correspondence, no, I won't explain it further). Not only that, there's an interview with me. So if you were wondering what the process is behind my writing, you can read about it!

The Conclusion

To this blog? To writing poetry? To writing in general? Hell no! It's the name of the place that published my poem Dry Conditions.

One Last Poem for January

The poem is called "Parted" and it's here, at Our Day's Encounter. Now, onward to February!

Jars of Wine and Angelical Ravings

Pictured: a seducer

Read a poem and try to find the philosophical allusions. Where? In Jars of Wine, an offshoot of Angelical Ravings, of course.