Just Make Sure You Find Out What That is Before It's Too Late

"The son wishes to remember what the father wishes to forget."
--Yiddish proverb

Great Moments in Cleveland History. Read it and weep...And for those of you among my overeducated, overcaffeinated, endlessly inquisitive readers who are looking for some sublime link between these two items today, be advised that they have not a damn thing in common. Except that I felt like sharing them both with you today. So sue me if you must. Just don't stop reading...

Our Witness in Iraq

My friend, writing colleague and childhood neighbor Ayad Rahim leaves tomorrow for what will no doubt be an emotional, sensory-overload trip back to his native Iraq, in order to be there for the one-year anniversary of the war. He plans to be in the country for at least a month, and possibly two, reporting and, we hope, safely observing the changes at work in the country. You may recall from an entry I wrote here last July (also reprinted by another old friend, upstate NY psychology prof/gaming entrepreneur Tommy Filsinger) that he has written widely for papers all around the world about his take on Iraq, most notably in two brilliant pieces he did for the Wall Street Journal, one celebrating the death of Saddam's two brutal sons. Ayad has subsequently spoken to SPJ's Cleveland chapter, to students at Hathaway Brown School and elsewhere. And now he even has his own booking agent as well as a blog, which he will be using to post impressions from abroad. He's gotten into the swing of things by already posting several interesting entries from stateside.

On this morning's WCPN After Nine program, he explained to news director David P. in his signature lucid and passionate way how the Arab/Muslim world's "lack of introspection" has bred a toxic culture of passivity and blame-shifting for a thousand years. "Part of the tribal culture is passivity, and oil (revenues) make that worse," he said, refering to a study of the top 19 oil-producing countries, only one of which is a democracy. These problems are so deep, he noted, as to prompt a sense of hopelessness. "But you have to do something, or else you look into the abyss, and they will then become the serfs of the world."

Ayad is impossibly feisty (bordering on pugilistic) and sure of himself about these subjects, but he's earned it, having done his homework thoroughly. Over lunch a couple weeks ago at a deli near the Cleveland Clinic, I noticed that he forgot all about his food for quite some time as he energetically sought to convince me that Al Queda and other strains of Muslim extremism represent an even more dangerous threat to Western democracy than the Cold War. Some would call him a hard-right conservative on these issues; he merely makes the case (not unpersuasively, I'd say) that he's simply following the evidence where it leads. And interestingly enough, a caller from Cleveland Heights zeroed in on that this morning. "You seem to see the Americans as complete saviors," she said, before ticking off a familiar list of perceived Bush administration sins. He didn't back down, curtly telling the woman that he had his views, as she had hers. "This is not about oil, this is about terrorism," he concluded. You could hear the steel in his voice.

Ayad's itinerary calls for him to fly from Detroit to Amman, Jordan, and then travel from there by taxi for several hours to Baghdad. And he says he'll be on high alert, vigilant about being in a war zone. He admitted to "the fear of real crazed hotheads, who won't hesitate a moment to slash someone's neck for saying something about religion or politics that they don't like." And earlier, he told me that as a naturalized American, he'll have to be careful about being robbed or even kidnapped for ransom. We wish you a safe journey, my friend. Come back safely, and keep witnessing to these crucial events.

Think About Being At Case on Friday. After a year on the web--more about which soon--Working With Words is proud to report that it's received its first p.r. pitch to mention an event. And it's a no-brainer, because the note comes from a trusted old friend--Jeff Bendix, himself a pretty mean worker with words--about an event well worth your while: CWRU's second-annual research showcase (click here to learn more and to register). I caught some of it last year and found it interesting. And I also note that John Carroll has since mounted a similar annual spring event, showcasing the best of its humanities and arts and sciences work. Copy-catting is of course the most sincere form of flattery...

And Speaking of Case: You may recall that author Kurt Vonnegut was recently there, speaking in his patented style. What you may not have seen was this wild rant on Cleveland that he shared with readers of the Chicago-based progressive/lefty journal In These Times. I'm fairly certain that Bendix had nothing to do with that one...

This Made Me a Dylan Fan

An interviewer once asked singer Bob Dylan if he was happy. "These are yuppie words, happiness and unhappiness," he responded. "It's not happiness or unhappiness, it's either blessed or unblessed."

Quickies

Not sure whether to be singing an aria or the blues today. On the one hand, Old Faithful himself, NPR Morning Edition host Bob Edwards, is apparently too old (at 56) to keep reeling them in at the new and improved, Golden-Arches-Endowed NPR. It kind of leaves some of us dazed. How is it, one wonders, that those old geezers--the trio of TV network anchors--can smoothly keep going well into their '70s even as their faces grow less than telegenically ideal? And yet the dulcet-voiced Bobby E., on the other hand, a decade and a half younger, and with no need for a facial, gets tossed aside. Perhaps his pipes are slipping in some fashion perceptible only at canine frequency ranges, but I don't think us humans have any problems with it. But I take heart in his reaction: I love how he's been a truth-teller to the bitter end, refusing to play along with the standard corporate bullshit protocol, which calls for all parties to pretend that the sacking is a mutually agreed upon move. Instead, he plaintively noted to every interviewer who asked that none of this was his idea, taking care to be as well-modulated in his reaction as his voice is over the air. And this has sparked something of a budding national outrage which I think has a decent chance of getting this overturned. This whole thing may just move me to sign my first-ever online petition. Check out the empty Aeron chair here.

I'd Really Rather Be in Prague. I'm also just a tad bummed to have missed this, a writers' festival in the world's most beautiful city. It's beautiful not in the sunny American ideal sense, but rather in the tragic, ancient, gothic manner that my European lineage/son-of-an-architect DNA has endowed me with. But there's always next year. Hope springs eternal. Perhaps I'll roust my dad and take him there next spring as part of one last European tour for a 76-year-young fellow.

Standing Up to Abuse. And yes, there's so very much more to be happy about today, things that would prompt an operatic trill, if only I could sing a note. Each day brings us more encouragement that courageous citizens are standing up one by one to tell the truth even in the face of a furious onslaught of lies and abuse from our paranoid right-wing cabal in Washington. And this will culminate later this year, one hopes, in our winning back our country. Yesterday it was the steady, heroic truthtelling of former White House antiterrorism chief Richard Clarke, braving the organized smears to tell millions of his countrymen what most intelligent people already have discerned: that our president and his top aides are outrageous liars. And today comes breaking word from the generally authoritative Capitol Hill paper Roll Call that the man who has a chokehold on the Congress, Rep. Tom "The Hammer" DeLay, is discussing contingency plans in the event that he is indicted for a range of alleged campaign-finance abuses back in his native Texas. And if it happens, it will be because of the heroics of another quietly courageous American, a formerly obscure county D.A., Ronnie Earle, who has stood up to every manner of obstacle being thrown in his path by frantic Republicans intent on protecting DeLay (for the best background on this case, be sure to read this Salon story from a couple of weeks ago. Just click on the free day pass in the upper right corner for access). When the Texas legislature raised the possibility of stripping Earle of his budget, he still didn't relent. He simply responded that even if he were rendered staffless, he would simply issue subpoenas based on newspaper investigations of the funny-money trail. May the next president award these two fellows the Medal of Honor.

Truer Today Than Ever (Especially That Last Sentence)

'There is more than one way to burn a book. And the world is full of people running about with lit matches. Every minority, be it Baptist/Unitarian, Irish/Italian/Octagenarian/Zen Buddhist, Zionist/ Seventh-day Adventist, Women's Lib/Republican, Mattachine/FourSquareGospel feels it has the will, the right, the duty to douse the kerosene, light the fuse. Every dimwit editor who sees himself as the source of all dreary blanc-mange plain porridge unleavened literature, licks his guillotine and eyes the neck of any author who dares to speak above a whisper or write above a nursery rhyme.'--Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Catch-Up Day

Okay, strap on your helmet. We have lots to catch up on today. So very much going on, and only perhaps an hour to catch you up (perhaps more later today)...

No More Melting Pot. I don't often assign homework here at WWW, but I do hope you'll find a way to get your hands on a long and insightful piece in the current issue of Foreign Policy Magazine (March/April). Written by Samuel P. Huntingon, the same emeritus Harvard professor who a decade ago wrote what turned out to be the prophetic book Clash of Civilizations (about the imminent war between Islam and the West), this piece is about the challenges that lay ahead for the U.S. in absorbing unprecedented inflows of Mexican immigrants. It's unprecedented immigration not so much for the numbers, but for their lack of interest in even the slightest assimilation. Many of these Hispanics "will be in the United States but not of it," he says. Huntington also quotes a Cuban-born sociologist who observes that "In Miami, there is no pressure to be American," and notes that Mexican President Vicente Fox coyly describes himself as president of 123 million Mexicans, 100 million in Mexico and another 23 million in the U.S. This is homework not because it's hard slogging--quite the contrary, in fact--but because the piece is no longer online. But I think it'll be well worth your while to go find it at the library...

Best Line Heard Last Week. Hans Blix, chief U.N. weapons inspector, asked on NPR about reports that the U.N. might well have been bugged by the Americans and British in the run-up to war last year, responded with a well-chosen zinger: While it's unpleasant to assume you're being bugged, he said, he didn't worry much because he wasn't saying anything very different in private than he was saying in public. Besides, "it's one thing to be bugged. But I wish they'd listened more attentively."

The New Yorker Cleans Up--Again. Any wonder why the New Yorker magazine continues to clean up each spring when it comes time for the National Magazine Awards? Some longtime readers think the mag, now under the direction of editor David Remnick, may be as good as it's ever been in its illustrious history. I happen to be among them, though I can't pretend to have read it for most of its 80 years of life. But just try out this first paragraph from a piece by William Finnegan entitled "The Cuban Strategy" in the March 15th edition: "Last summer, out in the sunlit seas of the Florida Straits, the U.S. Coast Guard came upon a green 1951 Chevrolet flatbed truck motoring north from Cuba. The vehicle was being kept afloat by pontoons made from 55-gallon drums; there was a propeller attached to its driveshaft. With 12 people aboard, the truck had already made it more than halfway to the U.S.--it was only 40 miles south of Key West when it was intercepted. the Coast Guard took the passengers into custody then machine-gunned the truck until it sank. A few days later, the refugees were dumped on a beach back in Cuba." Now, if you can read that paragraph and stop there, you're a stronger person than I...

Catholic Blog Survey. No wonder much of the traditional media seems threatened almost to the point of panic by the rise of citizen publishing, a.k.a. blogging. Even magazines such as Commonweal, a wonderful old-line independent journal for intellectual Catholics (not at at all a mutually exclusive category, contrary to what the NYT might suggest), are giving it close attention. In this splendid little piece, a literate and attentive Boston librarian gives a nice overview of the best of the blogs with Catholic themes. Unfortunately, there are no links to the blogs she mentions, so if you want to follow up and read some of them, you'll have to let your fingers do the Googling...

And Speaking of Google. Local publishers and Yellow Pages directories beware: Google Local , percolating for eight months in the lab at Mountain View and now live, has its sights set on the $12-billion local advertising market. Once the kinks are worked out, it will surely at least fundamentally change your business models, and you ignore it at your peril. Give it a test drive and tell us how it turned out.

Finally, See if You Agree With This List. This fascinating little list of opinions about blogging, from Terry Teachout in the Wall Street Journal's excellent Arts Journal, could keep a table of serious bloggers in conversation for a couple of hours. But I especially like #s 10 and 13. And at its best, blogging is, indeed, beginning to have the kind of wide influence that small magazines have always had, because they're so closely read by writers and others who in turn influence a much larger population. And excellent examples of this dynamic are all around us. I'll be bringing you lots more in coming weeks, but try this one on for size: the Washington Monthly, which I've talked about in this space before, is famous in journalism for having been the proving ground for literally dozens of future journalism stars, including Slate founder Michael Kinsley, Newsweek's Jonathan Alter and New Yorker writer (and now Columbia Journalism School Dean) Nick Lemann, among many others. Its tiny offices in a second-floor walk-up at Washington's Dupont Circle are legendary for their spartan appearance. But in a telling development that hasn't yet been widely noted, but will, the magazine has just converted its website into a blog, after recruiting to its staff the popular developer of the blog Calpundit. Look for lots of magazines to follow suit...

A New Site Goes Live

And you thought I only wrote lowly paid (like this) and no-ly paid (what you're reading) journalism? Not a chance. While I haven't talked much about it here--mostly only alluded to other things I'm doing--I actually do an impossibly wide range of writing in just about every imaginable medium, and for all kinds of clients and publications. As we speak, I'm now finishing up a long piece on innovations in surgery for the Cleveland Clinic's splashy new magazine and I've just received a hard copy of my first article for a refereed academic journal--on the subject of hospital billing, no less--which was a kick. In just a few days, I'll put the wraps on my second ghostwritten book, which will be a relief, because I can then turn my attention to another.

But I could do no other: after all, I have to take my own advice, and I've been telling other writers for years that they need to keep the door open to all kinds of projects in order to fund their independent pen. Besides, for those of us with unquenchable curiosity and short attention spans, this is ideal: you get variety and learn something from every assignment which allows you to be better, sharper and more creative for the next project. And probably do it far more quickly than you might have without all that other experience.

When finally I get around to upgrading this blog (perhaps shortly after its first anniversary, just days away), it will have links to lots more of my other work, which you can check out if you have an interest. The idea of wading through some of that vast archive--growing all the time--in order to put it online has been pretty daunting to imagine. But I've been taking stabs at it slowly, and eventually it'll be available. You'll also have the chance to support Working With Words, which has been a labor of love over many hundreds of hours in its first year, but which will soon begin inviting its growing readership to support it as you would your favorite public radio or TV station (only without those annoyingly syrupy broadcast versions of Senate filibusters).

Meanwhile, I thought I'd share with you the newest site whose copy I prepared: the Gates Group, an interesting new venture fund devoted to the parking industry. It follows these other sites (click here, here and here) for which I've been pleased to be the prime word architect. (Plus this massive relaunched site, for which I served more of an editing role).

I thank all these folks--and let's not forget some of the splendid web designers I've been honored to work with lately--for their support. They play a crucial role in fortifying my independence in these times of increasing media blandness and inability to connect with their communities. And they allow me to continue sharing some stubbornly independent news, insights and information with a flock of readers who day by day grow virally in ways that are humbling. I say a round of drinks for all of you on this St. Patty's day.

Kucinich the Kingmaker

This Associated Press story, picked up in Miami and lots of other markets, probably won't appear in our PD. But we thought you'd still like to know that Dennis K., who's finally conceding the race for the nomination is over, nevertheless finds himself sitting in the cat bird seat, in a position to be courted by JFK II (John Kerry, of course), who really needs Ohio (and if you're a Dem who needs Ohio, you really need Cuyahoga County). Perhaps he can negotiate a deal for his endorsement, in exchange for a promise to become Secretary of Defense in a Kerry administration, after which he can rename it the Department of Peace...

Could You Pass This Math Test? Do spend a moment and test yourself. Heck, if you do poorly, who'll know?

Ever-Evocative Fresh Air. Last night on Fresh Air, NPR's Terry Gross once again elicited a wonderfully vivid literary riff from a soft-spoken fellow who has written a new memoir about his time studying at the foot of a couple of famous beat poets. The book title, "When I Was Cool: My Life at the Jack Kerouac School," speaks for itself. The author recounted how one of the faculty members, poet Alan Ginsberg, had an "almost Proustian sense of observation" about the world, and taught the young guy that "you should write as you think--a sort of shapeliness of the mind." We'll soon be taking up a collection to send our three favorite Cleveland coolio beat poets, George, Steve and Niko, to this school...

There's a Hole In My Heart Today

Why? Because I couldn't break away, as I had planned, to motor down to North Carolina to be on hand for my pal Anton Zuiker's stupendously cool and stimulating blog conference, which he masterminded and brought to life, and which had to be rescheduled due to weather. So all today and tomorrow, I'll be there in spirit if not body, while I tend to some unfortunately timed but nevertheless crucial project deadlines. I know the formidable Z-man--a veritable one-man life force, a human Atlantic seaboard weather pattern--will forgive me, but will I be able to forgive myself? Oh, well, this thing called living is such an imperfect, fragile thing. And when duty calls, we must answer. And who knows, maybe someone is capturing it digitally, and I'll be able to later join that way. Hope springs eternal, especially in the spring season. May god be with you, Anton, as you share your passion and genius for online writing with yet another flock of eager students, who'll join your ever-growing cohort of alums...

Anton Even Arranges Timely WSJ Coverage. I told you he was a human weather pattern: I found it interesting that on the very day that Henry Copeland, the man behind BlogAds and now a fellow transplanted Tar Heel, is set to speak at Anton's event, the Wall Street Journal carries a remarkable breakthrough story about the increasing interest in blogs, featuring Henry himself. Here's the payoff passage (unfortunately, it's only available online for subscribers): "The Chandler campaign is evidence of the latest step in the evolution of the Internet. Blogs, once derided as solipsistic exercises by self-important nobodies, are starting to go commercial as their readership grows. The trend is in its early stages; big advertisers like Coke and Procter & Gamble aren't yet hawking their wares on blogs. Indeed, much of the advertising is found on politically oriented blogs, which are experiencing a spike in readership from the presidential election. Many people wonder if the blog ad boomlet will outlast the election. But other Internet institutions have had similarly modest origins; recall that eBay started out as a place to trade Beanie Babies and Pez dispensers. And it's no surprise that as blogs grow in popularity, they are beginning to attract advertisers."

Valdis' Server Should Get a Workout

Cleveland-based social-network theorist/guru Valdis Krebs continues to expand the reach of his interesting ideas on networks, and the national media is increasingly helping him reach more people. Today's Times carries an interesting little piece about his analysis of the kinds of people who buy politically themed books. Do check it out when you get a moment (and please do register for online access to the NYT if you already haven't). And then head over to his site to make a quick bookmark for a return trip, when you have some time to dive into some of his thought-provoking white papers. Like a lot of smart, influential people, Valdis is better known around the country than he is in his own backyard. But that, too, is beginning to change.

Like Eating Potato Chips, Only Far Healthier for the Spirit

We read Don Iannone because we can't help it. It's like eating potato chips. Pay special attention to #'s 14, 47 & 50, by the way...And when you've digested those 100 potato chips, do check this out as well...

Iambic Pentameter in Your Wallet

'Money is a kind of poetry.'
--Wallace Stevens, insurance man by day, poet by night

This week's Free Times contains an entertaining ramble of a cover story, by author Tom Kelly, something of a minor legend among local writers and raconteurs of old Cleveland. He's not known for--how shall we put this?--being the most exhaustive reporter, researcher or fact-checker. But he is a mean storyteller, with an Irish blarney kind of flair for dramatic tales well-told. One small but important correction: contrary to his assertion, the Plain Dealer has indeed won a Pulitzer. It just happens to have been for something less easily remembered (an editorial cartoon) and before most of us were born: 1953. Which prompts another thought: how could Working With Words have been so remiss as to have overlooked the chance to note this half-century anniversary last year? Mea culpa...

Blogs/Bloggers We Like III. In past weeks, we've touched our scepter upon the heads of Hotel Bruce's Marc and Jim Kukral, dubbing them the Chosen Ones (of the non-hoops variety, at least). Round three goes to a guy I've never met, but whom I'm increasingly enjoying as a reader. A native of Halifax, Nova Scotia, and a self-described "post-Zapruder film" George Carlin-memorizing trombone player who now lives in Cleveland, by the name of Jerry. He's almost single-handedly threatening to subvert our lazy generalizations about geeks not being literate and well-rounded. We love him for his wide interests and seeming inability to write a dull sentence, for his deft sense of humor and light touch with the pen--or at least keyboard. And we especially enjoy the fresh, unexpected ways in which he invariably puts things. An example? Try this one on, for instance. While a lot of pundits have complained about conservatives' opposition to gay marriage/civil unions, he finds a far more forceful, persuasive argument that they're wrong. To wit: "My old-school, heterosexual marriage doesn't seem to be collapsing due to gays getting married so far. Go figure. Other things not affecting it include last night's Jay Leno monologue, the migration of crabs in the Pacific Ocean, poorly maintained turnstiles in the New York City subway system, Paris Hilton's reading list, Liza Minneli's dating pool, and the Counter-Reformation."

If that's not enough to get your heart racing just a bit, try this stirring post from last September 12th, a poetic explanation for why this Canuck came to and remains in Cleveland. With writing like that, we think Jerry-mania is alive and well, and building momentum all the time...

Quick Hits

Worried About an Internet Meltdown? Then by all means, plan to attend this conference in LA later this year. And if you do learn that it's going to go poof, please send the rest of us an email ASAP, so that we can plan accordingly...

GWB's Sorry Scorecard. These sobering stats come courtesy of political science prof Martha Joynt Kumar, who's writing a book on White House communications. It compares the number of solo press conferences that recent presidents have submitted themselves to at the same point in their first term that George W. now finds himself: Eisenhower 78, LBJ 79, Nixon 23, Carter 53, Reagan 21, Bush I 72, and Clinton 40. And our current prez? Just 11, or about half as many as the press-hating Nixon and the overscripted Reagan. Yet another reason that it's time for a change...But don't take my word for it. Check out what Slate's splendid chief political correspondent, William Saletan, has to say about Bush in this fine piece. It includes one of the most ringing paragraphs ever written about our Bumbler-in-Chief: "From foreign to economic to social policy, Bush's record is a lesson in the limits and perils of conviction. He's too confident to consult a map. He's too strong to heed warnings and too steady to turn the wheel when the road bends. He's too certain to admit error, even after plowing through ditches and telephone poles. He's too preoccupied with principle to understand that principle isn't enough. Watching the stars instead of the road, he has wrecked the budget and the war on terror. Now he's heading for the Constitution. It's time to pull him over and take away the keys."

Is CNN's Lou Dobbs Channeling Jim Kukral? You may know him as a pompous, rightward-leaning cable newsreader, the ethically challenged guy who loudly campaigned about the unfairness of Enron criticism after he took thousands from the company for a private speaking gig. But now we have the new and improved Lou, who seems to have undergone a total makeover that would do the Queer Eye guys proud. Now Lou is a crusading populist, ranting about how major U.S. companies are outsourcing all our jobs. His website even lists about 350 of them. But we know who started that momentum: our own Jim Kukral, who got on this kick almost a year ago, before it was considered hip to complain about outsourcing, with this site...

Watching Porn in Robes. Finally, we can't help noting our favorite detail in the river of coverage surrounding the release of the late Supreme Court Justice Harry Blackmun's papers. You've no doubt come across the famous quote from another justice to the effect that he couldn't define pornography, but that he knew it when he saw it. But what about when you can't really see it? Buried in a Washington Post team report was this little jewel of an anecdote: "Blackmun recounted how, when the justices watched films to determine if they were pornographic, Justice John M. Harlan, who was nearly blind, kept asking his clerk, 'What are they doing now?' Upon being told, Harlan would exclaim, 'You don't say."

Judge Strikes a Blow for Careful Writing

I hereby nominate as our person of the week (actually for last week) a once-obscure district-court judge in Philly named Jacob Hart. In a story that quickly spread around the globe (including this piece in a Taiwanese paper), the judge spoke up on behalf of the English language and admonished a lawyer for his clumsy legalese as well as his even sloppier typos (including one in the judge's name!). Judge Hart lashed out at what he called a lawyer's "vague, ambiguous, unintelligible, verbose and repetitive" prose. He later told NPR that "even for trial lawyers, 90% of your work is going to occur outside a courtroom. So most of your reputation rests on what you write. Unfortunately, people think they can just hit spell-check and that takes care of it all." A hearty round of applause for the judge. Next, we suggest he turn his attention to the similarly obfuscatory strain of writing known as academese. Much of that rises above the level of misdemeanors and well into the felony range...

He'll Put Up With a Lot for the First Amendment. The British literary pub Granta occasionally rises to heights of excellence while also tending toward the highbrow obscure (it also gave us New Yorker fiction editor Bill Buford, no small patrimony). I like their current package of takes on America, which allows writers on both sides of the Atlantic to have a go at the subject. But what really stood out for me was a comment by the quite elderly American writer Paul Fussell, who despite his age (around 80, I believe) still wields a savage pen that at times summons comparisons to the uniquely bracing prose of the late H.L. Mencken. He observes: "...I cannot avoid saying that my experience of abroad has in the long run deepened my fondness for America, with its nice toilets and showers and its precious First Amendment, encouraging writers to praise and damn without fear of arrest. For that, I'm willing to bear any amount of national ignorance and stupidity." Amen...The only other real competitor for the mantle of our contemporary Mencken is Chris Hitchens, but I would suggest that, while still an astonishing prose stylist and an interesting thinker (much of the time), he also seems to be coming a bit unhinged more than occasionally, as he furiously attacks once-sacred cows (Mother Theresa, Lady Di and lots of others) and tries his best to explain his own move from one-time Marxist agitator to apologist for Bush and his cronies. And his growing hostility to all forms of faith (as evidenced in this dyspeptic piece, in which he refers to Catholicism as a "cult") leaves him completely unequipped, I'm afraid, to really understand much of the world around him, which is a form of death (I almost wrote 'spiritual death') for any writer. A pity...

The Next Big Thing in Online Search/Contextual Ads: Radius-Based Keywords? We report, you decide...

Those Car Talk Bros Rule! I've somehow never gotten around to tipping the Working With Words cap at those Brilliant Boston Brothers who each week brighten our Saturday mornings with NPR's Car Talk show. It's one-part contemporary Boston Borscht Belt and one part killer car advice from a pair of MIT-trained mechanics, with some of the best pure humor anywhere in America (check out this tongue-in-cheek list of staff creditsfor the show). I'm not sure I've gotten more belly laughs over the years from any other source in any other medium--no radio or TV program, no comedian, no written pub has given me more laughs and enjoyment (with the possible exception of Seinfeld). But this last Saturday, the effervescent brothers topped even themselves with a hilarious riff they called "Tech Support." Not sure I've ever heard a segment by that name before, but so what? The beauty of the show is its complete originality. Anyway, the segment went like this: the brothers read a letter from a female listener who purported to ask for advice on her marriage after she upgraded from Boyfriend 5.0 to Husband 1.0. She complained that, to her surprise, the new version came with some newly installed programs such as NFL 6.3 and MLB (for Major League Baseball) 1.0, which prevented other applications such as Flowers 3.0 and Chocolates 2.0 from working flawlessly, as they once did. Their advice: first, remember that that old boyfriend version "was an entertainment package," while the new husband version "is an operating system." And they cautioned her against overreacting by installing Mother-in-Law 2.0 or New Boyfriend 1.0, "because that will cause the system to crash." Keep it coming, Click & Clack...

No Time To Write. But Soon...

Too much going on today for me to take the many moments of considered reflection required for writing. So what the heck, I'll just blog a bit in the conventional fashion...

Somebody's Got Their Eyes on My Boy. I've bragged like the proud pop in the past about my two boys, Michael and Patrick, though I've tried to avoid doing it too often. But every now and again something so cool happens to, by or about them that I feel the need to relate here. Another occurred this week, when Michael's pals were buzzing a bit over some online rankings of the top high school hoops players in the region that someone puts together (we know not whom). I'm immediately just a bit dubious, because of some misspellings and wrong height measurements (they've added two inches to my 6'-3" son), still it's a bit of harmless fun to see your kid ranked in the top 20 freshmen hoops players in the Northeastern Ohio area (along with his Iggy teammate Brian Sylvester, a wizard with the ball), no matter how accurate such a subjective ranking might inevitably be. Still, it was kind of nice to see.

Couric vs. Blair. No surprise that the obnoxiously lightweight Katie Couric was the one to nab the first on-camera interview with the far more obnoxious pint-sized, troubled fiction writer Jayson Blair, tonight on NBC's Dateline. I'm afraid I'll be forced to watch it, like the car wreck from which no curious human can avert their eyes. The best line of the day, perhaps the week, goes to the incomparable "Book Slut," a bookish 20-something Chicago woman, who notes today that Couric "ask Blair the tough (but perky) questions." Nicely done, Divine Ms. S...

Now That's Method Acting. I was glad to learn that I'm apparently not the only one to have formed a close personal attachment to the work of actress Laura Linney, a 40-year-old beauty whose brains, smarts and careful role selection are even more impressive than her pretty face. This well-done Boston Globe Magazine profile of the lovely one is filled with great touches. But my two favorites: her observation that Mystic River co-star Sean Penn prepares for his roles "on a cellular level." And at the end of the piece, she again proves her idiosyncratic smarts, by giving the interviewer an unexpected answer to the stock Hollywood interview question about whose career she would like to have as she ages. "'Mine,' she says quietly. 'I really like mine.'" We do too, Laura...

Dennis Can't Get No Respect

Poor Dennis. He barely registered a pulse even in his home state in yesterday's Democratic primary. And it'll only get worse for him, now that the nomination contest is over, with Edwards dropping out. There'll be no more reason for Kerry to even pretend to engage the two remaining challengers, Kucinich and Sharpton. Now he can put all his attention where it belongs, on beating the dreadful Bush.

The Free Times' David Eden got another 15 minutes of national fame (the last came when his thoughts were sought out after the infamous attempted closing of the paper by its then-owner, the Village Voice), with a quote in yesterday's Times story about Kucinich's lack of respect even in his hometown. Times readers can't be faulted for thinking that all things Cleveland are just a bit dreary, if Kucinich and Harvey Pekar are their only guides. Neither seems to have mustered even a weak smile since the Truman administration. In fact, the game of media pile-on has begun in earnest. The Washington Post's stylish feature writer Hank Stuever poked fun yesterday at the "Nobody's Listening to Dennis Kucinich Show," noting the "increase in snackage" among members of the media while its Kucinich's turn to talk in the debates.

I know I should probably be upset about this, but I can't pretend that I am. As you probably know if you've been a reader for awhile, I'm no big Dennis fan. I find him a little too (actually a lot too) humorless and just plain lacking in some form of recognizable human warmth, rather on the order of Ralph Nader. And a small but illuminating scene which just unfolded a few hours ago on the Case campus reminded me once again of what I don't like about the guy.

A ponytailed militant in a Kucinich campaign T-shirt tried his best this afternoon to disrupt an otherwise interesting informal author appearance by Nation columnist Katha Pollitt. Now, to most of the world, she's a conventionally doctrinaire liberal, a useful tool in throwing stones against the establishment. But she apparently wasn't militant enough in her political critique for this fool, who embarrassed himself with a series of outbursts, reading paranoid rants against the media and the political order from his notebook, interrupting her at every chance. When the audience piped up and insisted that he let her speak, he responded: "Now, don't get nasty!" Then he began muttering under his breath.

I became an instant Katha Pollitt fan after watching how she handled it all. Rather than cut him off or use her quick wit to make him seem the fool, she engaged him as best she could for as long as she could. But--and this was the real surprise for me--she reached a point after awhile where she decided not to be cowed by some unrealistic PC notion of freedom of speech, which might have called for her and the entire audience to just put up with this idiot no matter what. After awhile, sensing that the room had had enough, and that the guy was clearly abusing his privileges, she lit into him in a measured way, just enough to put him in his place without being too severe. Knowing that he was beat, he shut up. And the event came to a close soon thereafter.

Chalk one up for common sense. But as a representative of Kucinich supporters, this boorish dolt will be a hard image to erase from my memory in this lifetime.

Two Headlines Say It All. As a relatively new convert/reader, I've found Poets & Writers Magazine an increasingly tasty treat, full of much food for thought. This story, about the Portland, Oregon-based writer Chuck P., who has built something of a cult following of late, certainly got me thinking. But mostly, I just appreciate all the care and thought that goes into the pub. Among my favorite things in the new issue are two especially apt article titles, neither of which I think needs any additional comment: "Talent as Persistence" and "Talking on Paper." That's what it's all about...

Take This List With You. Planning any one-tank trips in the Great Lakes region this spring. The ever-bookish Ms. Suzanne D. of Coventry's Mac's Backs points out a group to which she belongs, the Great Lakes Booksellers Association. On its website, you'll find this comprehensive list of all the independent bookstores in the region. My goal is to visit each at least once before I die. It's a long list, but hell, I've got years, right?...

Tell Me a Story. A friend and reader of Working With Words recently pointed out something that I'd never thought of. He noted that mine is one of the few "narrative blogs," which for some, perhaps, is an oxmoron. Generally, to blog is to write in bursts of bite-sized, quick-read thoughts. But heck, I've always figured this is just plain old writing, carried to a new medium, and just left it at that. Besides, my friend may only have been calling attention to my wordiness.

But narrative is crucial, I think. And it arises from an elemental human hunger, to hear a story. I'm not generally a big fan of the conservative American Spectator Magazine, whose founder Emmett Tyrell, Jr., has been resourceful enough to keep it afloat since founding it as an undergrad at the University of Indiana more than 30 years ago. He's recently found a new sugar daddy to fund his magazine, millionaire publisher Alfred Regnery, whose publishing house as something of the vanity press of the hard right in America.

Anyway, I digress. What caught my eye in the current issue was a dazzling lead paragraph in an otherwise workmanlike piece by U.S. News & World Report's Michael Barone. It went like this: "Tell me a story. That is what a child asks at bedtime, and what voters ask at election time. The power of a story, a narrative, is compelling in politics. Votes want to know how we got where we are, and where we are heading in the future: narrative supplies answers, makes sense of the messiness of everyday life and events. A political party which has a convincing and compelling narrative has a great advantage over the competition." Well said, and utterly true. Isn't that what really set Bill Clinton apart as the class of his generation of pols, his dazzling abilities as the most polished and compelling crafter of political narrative perhaps since FDR? They tended to compensate for all of his other, well-documented shortcomings.

And now comes NYU law professor Stephen Gillers, normally a sober, go-to commentator in national reporters' Rolodexes when the subject is the law. In this morning's Times editorial page, he makes a simple, eye-opening suggestion: with Clinton barred from ever again seeking election as president, but with the Dems dead-set on retaking the White House whatever it takes, why not consider Clinton as a VP running mate for Kerry? It summons memories of the almost tag team of Reagan and former Prez Gerald Ford, who came close to teaming up for a run in 1980 before Ford chickened out. I think the piece opened many eyes to an interesting idea that has more than a little merit, if only Kerry is secure enough to take on a #2 who might well overshadow him, and Clinton is egoless enough not to be worried about taking a back seat in order to win a larger cause. In the end, though, what would probably prevent that dream team pairing is money: Clinton would have to foresake all the millions he's now making on the lecture circuit. But we can dream, can't we?

Some Stuff to Get Your Week Started

Yes, it's pre-dawn on a winter Monday, at least according to the calendar. But I'm feeling rather spring-like today, since yesterday's thaw in the temperatures allowed me to give my car a thorough spring cleaning. And that's no small job, since I tend to have a rolling office in there: dozens of files on things half-gathered and perhaps one-quarter-written. Piles of clipped magazine articles and newspapers, set aside for later use. Stacks of articles printed out from the web, with notes and underlines appended. And of course various scribblings on various sheets of paper. But now it's all organized, much of it is back in the house where it belongs, filed away for easier access when I need it. So life is good, even if my sturdy, beloved Honda Accord has just passed 100,000 miles...

Not even Ralph Nader can break my good mood today. The horse's ass will pretty well damage his place in history with his latest bit of obstructionist purist insistence on running no matter what. But this interesting piece in The New Republic makes a reasonably good case that, contrary to much of the media commentary of late, Ralph is merely doing what he's always done: "The qualities that liberals have observed in him of late--the monomania, the vindictiveness, the rage against pragmatic liberalism--have been present all along." TNR can occasionally be a bit predictable in its contrarianism, but just as often it hits the mark in reconsidering received wisdom of the chattering classes. Perhaps at some later date I'll recount the fascinating tale of having waited on Nader more than 20 years ago when I worked at a restaurant (perhaps there's a movie in there somewhere?). Anyway, do read this piece when you get a moment and make your own judgment. And that especially means you, RB...

Chas Continues to Score Direct Hits. The Sardonic One, local blogger Chas Rich, continues to do a yeoman's job of closely reading PD coverage of selected issues and shrewdly calling the paper to task. His latest bit of surgery is among his most interesting, watching the battle of the Tims for Cuyahoga County commissioner. He happens to note an especially interesting dynamic which had given me some pause too: editorial writer Joe Frolik, a good Cleveland Heights progressive intellectual (whom I've known socially for some years), unfortunately seems to have been picking up just a bit of the Alex Machaskee/Brent Larkin crony Cleveland politics contagion of late. Suppose it can't be helped, working in that environment every day for many years. Still, I hope he eventually comes to his senses on that count...

A Useful Tool? I, for one, plan to find out...

March Dad's Column Now Online. Click here for it.

Literary Cleveland. Okay, I know that might strike you as something of an oxymoron. But we're working on it. A few of us underground activists have been plotting a regional literary festival for sometime this year, and that's still the hope. More about which later. In the meantime, I want to keep highlighting those far-too-infrequent chances we have to call attention to all things literary here. One highlight has been the Gray & Co. kickoff parties, launching new books. I attended one about three weeks ago for a new book, Cleveland Couples, and David Gray and his incomparable diva of publicity, Jane Lassar, did it up right. It was at Vivo in the old Arcade, most of whose life has been sucked out by the sad rehab into a hotel. But Vivo has some of the Arcade's old buzz, and that night perhaps half of literary Cleveland was on hand to toast the newest addition to the fold. As always, hats off to David Gray for ignoring naysayers who have been saying for years that there's no way to make a business of publishing books on regional themes. He's coming up on his 50th such book--each one a testament to the power of smart contrarianism. Anyway, an equally heartening local literary development, pushing up from the permafrost like a particularly hardy variety of flower, has been CWRU's endowed journalism lectureship series. A couple of weeks ago, as I've written, that brought us the New Yorker's Susan Orlean. This week, Katha Pollitt of the Nation will be on hand to speak. I've never been a fan of her work in the Nation--she seems forever stuck in a dreary, post-Stalinist Upper West Side of Manhattan ideology to which I can't much relate. But as she's aged, as a person and a writer, I've also noticed some interesting signs of a deeper kind of self-engagement she seems to be having with her more rigid views. At least that's how I interpreted a much-clucked-about piece she did two or three months ago in the New Yorker, in which she confesses (with some mildly astonishing detail) to having done some webstalking of a former lover who suddenly left her. Perhaps it's merely natural to feel sympathy for anyone who so nakedly puts their own dirty laundry out for public inspection, but I found it really remarkable that someone who's always seemed to be so sure about so many things was suddenly confessing to millions of readers that she was lost, hurt and confused. I think I'll go hear her on Wednesday and help add to the sympathetic noise that will no doubt await her at University Circle. If she ever decides to blog, this interesting little advice column will nicely prepare her for the possible pitfalls of mixing blogging with one's love life...

And speaking of Case: I know my friend Anton and his wife Erin, a couple of the best walking advertisements for the benefits of a Peace Corps stint, will enjoy this: CWRU bragging about its strong rankings among universities for the number of its students who serve in the Corps. Ask not what your country can do for you, but....