I talk sense while Powers channels his inner Mr. Spock. Link.
I talk sense while Powers channels his inner Mr. Spock. Link.
This is a fuzzy shot – taken on my iPhone on the periphery of the craziest pit scene I’ve seen in a while – of Tom Gabel onstage in Kingston last night, as a number of young women accompany him on ‘Thrash Unreal.’ They just climbed up out of the sweaty limbs and the chaos, and started singing along. Against Me! loved it. The crowd loved it. It was a perfect punk rock night.
The Kingston show was at an old Eighties-style disco venue called Stages, on Princess Street. For the past few days, Against Me! – who, as you all know by now, is my favorite band on Earth, the one for which I’d throw it all away and travel with as their geriatric roadie – has been on a cross-Canada stadium tour with Billy Tallent.
Being a punk purist, I do not believe punk rock should ever be experienced in a stadium. It’s Satanism. (I also have never quite gotten the Billy Tallent thing.)
So the Kingston show was special. AM were going to be showcasing some of the new songs on their yet-to-be-released album, White Crosses. And no American audience has heard those songs. And they were going to be there with the Cancer Bats, Canada’s best hardcore band ever. (And no Billy Tallent.)
So I had to get to Kingston. I had to.
My brother-of-another-mother Richard Warman – a ska and punk enthusiast of long standing – joined me there. We were easily old enough to be fathers to more half the crowd, a motley crew of mohawked punks, anarchists, peaceable skins and Queen’s jock types. It was wonderful.
What a show! What a night! The Cancer Bats again reminded the locals why they are the heaviest live act in the country – screeching through some tunes from their new record, due out in a couple weeks – and kicking off with a howling take on ‘Hail Destroyer,’ my unofficial Liberal war room anthem. Their version of the Beastie Boys’ ‘Saboutage’ literally took the roof off the place. Amazing.
Against Me!, meanwhile, came on at about 8:30 – it was an all-ages show, which made me regret I did not have my Cancer Bats-loving daughter with me – and proceeded to kick out the jams like you never get to see a band do anymore, and certainly not in a big aircraft hanger-style hall. They sweated, they danced, they pulled kids up onstage wih them to dance and sing.
Everyone there was close enough to know, to feel, that something special was taking place. It had a sense of community and joy about it that you only get at the once-in-a-lifetime gigs. It was like that.
You had to be there, I think, to capture the singularity of the show. The only words that capture it, truly, are the stylings of The Great One – Lester Bangs, writing in the NME about seeing the Clash live for the first time, almost thirty years ago. This is what it was like. I wish you had been with us.
“The politics of rock ‘n’ roll, in England or America or anywhere else, is that a whole lot of kids want to be fried out of their skins by the most scalding propulsion they can find, for a night they can pretend is the rest of their lives, and whether the next day they go back to work in shops or boredom on the dole or American TV doldrums in Mom ‘n’ Daddy’s living room nothing can cancel the reality of that night in the revivifying flames when for once if only then in your life you were blasted out of yourself and the monotony which defines most life anywhere at any time, when you supped on lightning and nothing else in the realms of the living or dead mattered at all.”
UPDATE: “Thank you for whoever took this picture! .. I was the chick with the short blonde hair beside Tom .. and I can’t explain how much of an amazing experience that was!! I was kind of bummed that I didn’t have anything to commemorate that amazing moment in life, but now I do! Thank you so so so much! Alexina”
I’ll be on the road, shortly, so I can’t get to the link to the new C&E mag, which made its debut today. Here’s my first stab at a column – which anticipated the Ann Coulter flapdoodle, but not the magnitude of it. Hope you like it.
Right about now – right about the time you are squinting at the inaugural offering From the War Room! – American political pundit Ann Coulter is somewhere in Canada, shrieking about something or the other.
We’re not quite sure how she got in. But one thing is for certain: we must make a collective effort to ensure that she never, ever enters Canuckistan again. Ever. We have anti-banshee importation laws up here, you know.
The presence of such a, er, famous U.S. pundit presents us with a timely opportunity to answer a few questions that I, as a charter member of the commentariat, am often asked: what is a pundit, exactly? Who gets to be one? Do the media decide, or the political parties? Do pundits get paid vast sums for their scintillating insights and witty repartee? If so, how does one get invited back? What makes for effective punditry, and what will serve to embarrass your family members and closest friends, for generations to come?
That – that little thing right there – is something that a pundit (on TV or radio political panels, at least) should never say “um.” Also: “er.” Equally unhelpful: “you know.”
To be effective, to rhetorically slay all partisan opponents within the immediate vicinity, it is essential that a pundit sounds like he or she knows what he or she is opining about. (Even when, often, you don’t.) Gaps in your banter suggest to your adversaries – and, worse, the panel’s host, and Joe and Jane Frontporch, suspiciously eyeballing the on-air shenanigans at home – that you are making it up as you go along.
Which, as mentioned, pundits often do.
The simple fact of on-air punditry is this: there is not enough time in the day to prepare for a five-minute-long TV appearance, on which any number of verbal curveballs may be tossed your way. Some hosts, in fact – like CTV’s Tom Clark, who is an expert at this – delight in surprising his Conservative, Liberal and New Democrat panelists with an unexpected question or factoid. When in receipt of same, and the fire alarm is too far away to be pulled, I simply say: “Speaking for myself only…” In that way, your political party of choice is not compelled to disown you. Which happens, believe me.
So what, you query, is a pundit anyway? Mostly, it’s a gal or guy who editorializes about an issue. He or she attacks the other side, and defends their own. That’s it: attack and defend, attack and defend.
One of the best TV and radio pundits around is the guy I spar with most often: the Conservative Party’s Tim Powers. Tim, a Newfoundland-born rugby player with a ready grin, knows one of the cardinal rules of punditry: never take the punditocracy stuff too seriously.
On air, Powers is self-deprecating when the circumstances demand it – and he also knows when to concede a point, and laugh at himself and his team. Also easy-going is his fellow Tory, former Stephen Harper comms boss, Kory Teneycke. Kory, who looks about twelve years old, never lets an opponent get under his skin, and never loses his cool. But he gets his point across, in a viewer/listener-friendly way.
TV punditry in particular, you see, is mostly about entertainment. That’s not to say there isn’t room for serious, sober reflection when on-air – and the New Democrat’s highly-respected Anne McGrath, is one of the best in the business at relating useful information in a manner that doesn’t sound like a three-hour political science lecture – but, generally, TV punditry isn’t about information. It’s about emotion.
Long, long ago – when dinosaurs still roamed the Earth, and Treasury Board president Stockwell Day was there to witness them with his own eyes (sorry, I sometimes just can’t help myself) – my approach to punditry was to treat it like an exam: study, study, study, and cram as much information as possible into my tiny cranium. I would then show up at the studio, crib notes clutched in my sweaty hands, and use the minutes-long segment to recite as many statistics and facts as the schedule permitted. Dead pan.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
The best approach to punditry – and, for that matter, speech-writing and scrums and legislative work – is to do what The Great Communicator himself, Ronald Reagan, used to do. Have one main theme, and no more than two or three supportive related themes. Stick to them religiously. Keep it simple, keep it relevant, keep it as upbeat as the circumstances permit. That’s winning political communications. That’s punditry that works.
What doesn’t work, in my opinion, is becoming the story – which the aforementioned Ms. Coulter, now jetting to and fro in Canada on her broom, does on a regular basis. What doesn’t work is indulging in rhetoric that is so extreme, so hysterical, that the only people who end up paying attention to you are other hysterical, extremist red-necked mouth-breathers (like, well, Ms. Coulter). What doesn’t work is becoming a circus sideshow. Like Ann Coulter is.
Political punditry is fun and often funny. It is no way to get rich, but your mother may be happy to see you (occasionally) on her TV screen.
And the best pundit rule of all? Watch Ann Coulter, then say and do the reverse.
Works every time.
Coulter represents ‘darkest side’ of American character, says Kennedy
Source: The Canadian Press
Mar 25, 2010 5:52
LONDON, Ont. _ American politician Robert F. Kennedy Jr. says the U.S. has spent decades lost on a dark path that Canadians are in danger of following.
But he told an audience in London, Ont., Wednesday there’s hope for both countries if they end their reliance on information and energy from the large corporations threatening to take power from government.
Kennedy spoke at the University of Western Ontario three days after far-right pundit Ann Coulter spoke there as well.
He drew applause when he said “Ann Coulter really represents the darkest side of American character.”
Kennedy said Coulter and others in the far right don’t understand that without government, the country would be run by “unrestrained corporate power.”
That corporate power, he said, has made a mess of the economy and environment by converting natural resource into cash as quickly as possible. (London Free Press)
INDEX: NATIONAL POLITICS
Hmm. A somewhat different take on the Venomous, Vile Vituperator’s Visit©* to Ottawa:
Prior to the cancellation, Hamamdjian said only a small number of students were tasked with verifying the names of the people who had signed up to attend Coulter’s talk.
“It was a disaster in terms of just organization, which is probably one of the reasons why it was cancelled,” Hamamdjian told CTV News Channel from Ottawa on Wednesday morning.
Police eventually showed up to the scene and blocked the door to the building, but Hamamdjian said she doubted whether the combination of protesters and disorganization actually constituted “a physical risk to Ann Coulter.”
(*I love alliterations. Guilty as charged.)
O’MALLEY-GRAM: The plot thickens. And, perhaps, sickens. Anyone ever see Bob Roberts?
Driving my youngest and oldest to school.
Youngest: “Daddy, can I get the new Nerf gun?”
Me: “Maybe. What’s new about it, buddy?”
Him: “Daddy. [Sober voice.] It has a flashlight on it. It’s not just an ordinary Nerf gun.”
[Suppressed laughter by me and daughter. He pauses.]
Me: “Yes, buddy?”
Him: “Can I be home schooled?”
[More suppressed laughter.]
Me: “Hmmm. How would that work, buddy?”
Him: “I could just stay home and watch lots of educational TV.”
Me: “Well, that’s an interesting idea. We’ll have to think about that, buddy.”
Man oh man, we’re going to be hearing about this for years.
I haven’t been much interested in getting involved in the predictable debate about this bilious harridan because, well, it’s all so predictable. (Threatening her with the Criminal Code, as a University of Ottawa appartatchik did, is really dumb, by the way. It diminishes the legal significance of real expressions of hate, things like promoting genocide.)
Anyway. I’ve noticed a few commentators – many Jewish – who have defended her, her rights, blah blah blah. In my opinion, these commentators should eyeball this YouTube clip, below; it’s quite revealing. As I tell my Jewish friends all the time: evangelical types don’t profess to support Israel, and Jews, because they respect your beliefs. They do those things because they want to get close enough to you to convert you to Christianity. It’s Scripturally-ordained, even.
Check it out:
In today’s New York Times.
Opening line: “How does one react to the death of one’s mentor?”
This morning’s show, wherein Tim attempts to rationalize whiplash-inducing Reformatory flip-flops on Ten Percenters, Internet in libraries, O Canada and womens’ reproductive choice. Strap on your seat belts for this one.