Kleefeld on Comics has published a very flattering review of Hereville. Here’s a sample:

The story is very well crafted. […] Indeed, even after Mirka’s competition with the troll begins, her foregone victory (it’s in the title, after all) comes about in a surprising manner. […]

The storytelling itself is very solid. In fact, there are a couple of particularly nice page and panel layouts. I especially liked Mirka’s leaving the town on page 26, and the start of her victory over the troll on page 51 which nicely echoes/bookends an early page in the story. Interestingly, Deutsch’s linework improves markedly over the course of the yarn.

There’s more, so please head over there to read the whole thing. (There aren’t any spoilers, but there are a couple of vague hints.)

(Oh, and remember, you can buy Hereville here.)

At Salon, a Democratic speechwriter discusses post-campaign negotiations (using the example of Chuck Robb vs. Doug Wilder in Virginia, a campaign he was involved with), and speculates over what kind of concessions Clinton may want the Obama campaign to make in exchange for peace. Here’s an interesting speculation:

A Major Platform Win. Namely, healthcare. Hillary needs to be able to make the case that her campaign had a substantive impact on the race. The best way to do that is to get to write the party’s healthcare plank in the platform. If Obama folds on the mandate issue, Hillary walks away with a policy win. Plus, this would please John and Elizabeth Edwards. Choosing Elizabeth to write the healthcare plank of the platform could appease both camps.

Obama’s stand against (some) mandates is fully as embarassing as Clinton’s stand on the gas tax holiday; this is a point that he can, and should, concede to Clinton once the primary is over.

The essay also points out that Democrats have come together after even worse primary-season splits than what we’ve seen this year, and done it surprisingly quickly.

That aside, I hadn’t realized that such post-campaign negotiations were so normal a part of the process; live and learn. Curtsy: Digby.

At some point — I think in Locus? — I read an interview with Gordon Van Gelder in which he described his reaction to elves as being like lactose intolerance. “I’m elf intolerant,” he said.

I am also elf intolerant.

And that extends to fairies. Actually, I don’t bother to distinguish between “under the hill” elf stories and “under the hill” fairy stories; they strike me as basically the same equation.

So, consequently, I wasn’t really expecting to enjoy the anthology The Faery Reel: Tales from the Twilight Realm, despite its excellent editors and dazzling array of author names. And I didn’t.

In my (biased toward giving low ratings) personal rating system, I gave the stories in this anthology the following splay. I didn’t read the poetry.

Five stars: two
Four stars: two
Three stars: three
Two stars: two
One star: eight

There were two stories in this anthology for which I ran out of energy before the author ran out of story, and another that I skimmed heavily.

I certainly can’t blame the authors for this. It was definitely the subject matter. One of the stories I failed to finish reading was “Elvenbrood” by Tanith Lee, who is one of my favorite authors. I devour most of her stories voraciously. Add elves, and I take a nap.

There are problems with writing elf stories — or, rather, there are problems with elves and fairies as those cultural constructs generally appear in modern American fiction. (Western) elves, like vampires, are super-cool. They’re impossibly powerful, impossibly beautiful, impossibly impossible. And also diffident. Worse, the concept of the changeling lends itself too easily to a sort of immature wish-fulfillment, an all-to-easty metaphor for growing up an ugly duckling surrounded by powerful and beautiful swans.

There are intriguing angles from which to approach western-style elves, certainly… but I think it’s fundamentally a challenge. The narratives we draw around them tend to be pretty tired, and I think it’s hard to riff on the concept while still preserving the feel of “elf-ness,” which itself seems to be derived in large part from the tired use of tropes.

The anthology does touch on some non-western creatures that fall into the concept of fairies, such as Japanese kitsune. These stories have a bit more original space in which to work before running into the cloy of elfness.

As with most themed anthologies, I appreciated those stories that went further afield from the subject to draw their material. The most literal and traditional elf stories — like “Elvenbrood” — were significantly less interesting than the riffs that deconstructed and built anew the older tropes.

Although the anthology as a whole left me flat, there are some very nice pieces in it. My favorite was Kelly Link’s The Faery Handbag” which deservedly won a bunch of awards. I first read this piece in Kelly Link’s collection Magic for Beginners. Even among Link’s generally amazing work, “The Faery Handbag” stands out as particularly good. The narrator’s playful voice is compelling; the detail work gorgeous; the non-linear structure intriguingly woven but still sharp by the end. This story doesn’t stir me emotionally the way some of Link’s other work does (”Magic for Beginners” from which her second collection draws its name is my favorite of her stories — unfortunately, I don’t think it’s still available online), but it’s a delightful and original read.

I also really enjoyed Nina Kiriki Hoffman’s “Immersed in Matter” which follows a half-elf boy as he flirts with the edges of human civilization, for subconscious reasons that are only partially clear to him. This story is pretty traditional and the elves in it fit within most of the stereotypes of elves, but the story really worked for me, which I suppose just goes to show that anything can work when done well. I think the keys to this story’s success, at least for me, are the ways in which it slides around the themes of “How do I grow up awkward?” and “What does it mean to be human?” The main character does end up playing out some of the angsty changeling themes, but does so in a way that’s subtle rather than self-pitying. The theme emerges naturally from the story, rather than feeling hammered in or overt. The story benefits greatly from what I felt was nicely rendered and subtle characterization.

Jeffrey Ford’s “The Annals of Eelin-Ok” is a fake sort of academic essay in which a scholar describes the lives of fairies who live their lives in sand castles, ending his essay with the translated text of a memoir by one such fairy. This story — with its classification of fairy types, and concentration on how the fairies interact unseen with human children — seems clearly a riff on the idea of fairies at the bottom of the garden, but Ford’s voice is strikingly clear and compelling, and he uses modern storytelling techniques to create a real sense of emotional involvement with the character. By the end of the piece, a naturally evolving theme of ephemerality has appeared, and despite the fact that fairies often lend themselves to a sort of saccharine tone, Ford doesn’t flinch from his ending, instead pushing to a darker and more ambiguous place.

Hiromi Goto’s “Foxwife” is another of the anthology’s particularly interesting pieces. My favorite thing about the piece is that it seems to take on a fictionalized Japan similar to the way most western authors take on a Defaulty McBland fictionalized England. It doesn’t cater to western assumptions about society, or western assumptions about Japan — which disoriented me a bit early on, in all the best ways. The imagery here is vivid, and the scenes unexpected. The piece doesn’t quite tie together for me, and the ending was weak, but I enjoyed taking the journey of reading it.

I also enjoyed Emma Bull’s “De La Tierra” and Bruce Glassco’s “Never, Never,” although neither is the kind of fiction I usually seek on my own. “De La Tierra” is urban fantasy, following a biologically modified sort of private security agent for the fairy population of LA. This story reminds me of Greg Van Eekhout’s “Osteomancer’s Son,” which will be appearing on PodCastle next Tuesday: action centered around a very shiny idea with lots of eyeball kicks. There’s also a strong political subtext to “De La Tierra” which I went back and forth about as a reader… I wasn’t sure if the message was a little reductive of the complexities involved, or on the contrary a fairly brilliant way of expressing the political ideas. In the end, I settled on a bit of both, and I liked that the story had room enough for me to sustain that ambiguity.

“Never, Never” is an engagement with Peter Pan, told from the perspective of Captain Hook. The story relies heavily on the reader’s sense of nostalgia for the Peter Pan books… which I have to say I don’t have nostalgia for. Still. I don’t think I’ve ever read anything quite like it, and I like the way the piece stretched my imagination. And the tender, slightly melancholic scene between Captain Hook and Tiger Lily enchanted me. Besides, there’s something all too true about the idea that an omnipotent, ever-young Peter Pan would act like an enfant terrible, filling his island at turns with vicious pirates, gigantic war robots, ninjas, and aliens.

I’ll also give a shout out to another story: “The Night Market” by Holly Black is a sort of feminist fantasy short for a YA audience that doesn’t break a lot of ground plot-wise, but has some strikingly cool imagery in the night market scene itself. I thought this story was online, but I’m not finding it at a glance. If someone else knows the link, toss it to me, would you?

A number of the stories in this anthology attempt to come up with some original elf feul by using elf and fairy creatures as direct analogues for environmental damage. For me, this ranged from the moderately successful as in Gregory Maguire’s “The Oak Thing” which has an intriguing enough main character that the piece doesn’t feel heavy-handed, to the unsuccessful “Undine” by Patricia McKillip which took its metaphor too seriously and directly. In general, these weren’t pieces that worked for me (except for Emma Bull’s, which had a lot of other political stuff going on as well).

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for environmentalist messages in fiction or otherwise, but I think it’s too easy to make all-perfect all-beautiful elves and fairies a metaphor for voiceless, abused, innocent nature, without really having to examine either the politics of the message or the basis for the metaphor. The prettily written “The Shooter at Heart Rock Waterhole” by Bill Congreve exemplifies this problem for me; the elf who symbollizes nature starts out dead and voiceless. It’s all too unidirectional and easy, all too unconflicted. I’m inclined to support an environmentalist message, but I need more than the metaphorical destruction of a beautiful fairy or elven body to care more than I already do.

This is an image from the Icarus Project, a radical mental health support network. I saw it when it was reprinted in a local zine (more on that later): You can find a larger version here.

[Image description: It’s a poster headed taking care of the basics. It is divided into 5 parts: eating, sleep and rest, exercise, schedule and herbs, meds etc. Each has a cartoon drawing, half with people who are doing things in a way that is portrayed as unhelpful, the other half with people who are doing things in a way that is portrayed as helpful.]

I wish I was disappointed; I wish I expected more of so-called radical organizations. But no, when trying to illustrate unhelpful eating patterns for depression they show a fat person eating a burger and fries, and they contrast this with thin people eating a home cooked meal served by a woman (the headline is my alternative title for the Eating Well illustration).

The illustration is not radical. Fat-hatred is not radical. Food-hatred is not radical. People can pretend that their disgust at a burger and fries* comes from their dislike of multi-national corporations. But their disgust at a fat body is in plain view.

* Which as far as meals when you’re depressed go seems pretty good to me. It has protein, carbohydrates and fat. It will fuel your body.

Wil Wheaton has a post on his blog entitled “Hillary Clinton: the psycho ex-girlfriend of the democratic party,” and there’s really nothing more you need than the title to understand what the post is about.

I’ve seen altogether too much of this from Obama supporters; not just sexism, but also bitter derision and gloating.¹

My message to Obama supporters such as Wheaton: Stop it. If you’re so sure Obama has won, then it’s time to start acting like smart winners. We can’t win in November without the nearly 50% of Democrats who prefer Clinton to Obama, and every unnecessary word you write that dismisses, alienates or otherwise pisses off Clinton’s supporters is a word that helps John McCain win in November.

I’m not saying to keep silent regarding substantive disagreements, but if all you’ve got is sexist jokes and sneering mockery, then do Barack Obama a favor and shut the hell up.

Wheaton ends his post with this:

And allow me to just head something off right now that’s already come up on Twitter: I’m not sexist. This isn’t sexist. That’s a stupid straw man, and if you try to make that claim, I will point and laugh at you.

This so annoyed me I was going to leave a comment — but then I read the comments, and this response from Backpacking Dad had already said it perfectly:

Is it not sexist because it’s mysogynistic instead?

Is it not sexist because it’s funny?

Is it not sexist because it’s a metaphor that speaks to you?

So. Those were all questions. Here is a statement:

“Dude. You don’t get to decide what’s sexist.”

Here’s a reason to think that it MIGHT be sexist. You can g’an and point and laugh, but I’ll take this seriously for a second just to see where it goes:

The metaphor evokes a trope in sexual politics, that of the irrational girl who cannot accept that a relationship is over. Labeling, categorizing, pigeon-holing someone in this way “he’s a geek, she’s a slut, he’s a pig, she’s cow” is at once appealing to a fragment of truth, and also making the target controllable.

If they are controllable, they are marginalizable. And they can be dismissed. The problem with controlling and dismissing Hillary using a trope from sexual politics is that it moves her from the realm of discourse and debate into the realm of sex (as in “getting it on”). And labeling her as batshit crazy in an ex-girlfriend sense means that she is not only sexualized, but her sexuality can be controlled.

And that’s the heart and soul of sexism.

But I can understand if you didn’t really want to engage anyone on this. It is a funny piece, and sometimes maybe we want to hang on to the things we like even though someone else might think they’re inappropriate.

UPDATE:

According to U.S. Rep. Steve Cohen, D-Memphis, she may be starting to more closely resemble another famous movie character: The psycho lady played by Glenn Close in “Fatal Attraction.”

When asked about whether Clinton should drop out of the race on Fox 13’s “Good Morning Memphis” program today, Cohen said: “Glenn Close should have stayed in that tub.”

Rep. Cohen, would you please GET THE FUCK OFF MY SIDE!!!

(Curtsy: Talk Left.)

1. And yes, I’ve seen plenty of bitter derision from Clinton’s supporters for us “Obamabots,” as they charmingly call us, but that’s not the subject of this post. (back)

I have $1000 to donate to charity. I’d like to split it among 3 or 4 charities. Could people please make suggestions?

Obviously, charities that relate to this blog’s themes (anti-racism, feminism, disability rights, cartooning, etc) are of special interest to me, but that’s not a hard and fast rule.

The word ‘Haka’ caught my eye. It’s not one that I’m used to reading on American blogs. It was a headline on Reclusive Leftist Hilary vs the Haka. I clicked on the link, although I assumed she didn’t meant what I would mean if I used the word. Haka, to me and where I live, is the word for traditional Maori dances.

But it turns out that Violet Socks did mean that, sort of, and it was based on a blogger called River Daughter who has been using the word that way for a couple of months. River Dancer explained the metaphor she was making like this:

It’s all advertising and Maori war dancing. It sure looks ugly but it’s not as bad as we think.

River Daughter has continued to use haka as a metaphor for sound and fury from the campaigns that lack substance. In fact she expands what she means by the metaphor here:

What we have here is a Haka. A Haka is a Maori wardance, usually performed by men (figures) to scare and intimidate the enemy. The dancers do a lot of chest pounding and screaming and making truly scary faces complete with bulging eyes and sticking out their tongues. But just like the online world, they aren’t going to hurt you. It’s just to make you feel like they are the most dangerous people on the planet. So what if they scream at you, jostle you or make nasty faces?

To read such an ignorant characterisation of the haka makes me really angry. I have seen haka performed to congratulate and acknowledge achievement. I have been on protests where haka are performed. The racist subtext here isn’t very subtle ‘angry brown men are scary’, but deeper than that is the colonialist attitude towards Maori culture. River Daughter has no idea of Tikanga, she probably doesn’t even know what the word means.

From her posts, I’m guessing the only context River Daughter’s seen the haka is a sporting one. New Zealand’s Rugby team perform a haka before each test. While I think her description of the role of haka in a rugby test, is racist and ignorant, what she wrote was even worse, because there are many more haka than Ka Mate¹ and many more occasions where they are performed than rugby tests. I have seen haka performed as congratulations, as protests, as challenges, as rituals. River Daughter knows very little about the haka, but she is writing as if what she knows is all there is to know.

My point is that the Haka is not River Daughter’s, Violet Socks’s, yours or mine to turn into a metaphor of any sort. It’s worse because this particularly metaphor was ignorant, inaccurate and disrespectful. But I would never use the haka as a metaphor, even an accurate one. That’s one way appropriation works, the idea that you’re entitled to use other people’s culture, even though you know nothing about it.

A note for the comments: There are many threads to discuss the US Presidential elections, this is not one of them.

Edited to add: Sorry I had an incomplete draft and I posted that one rather than this. This is the complete version of my post

1. the name of the haka most often performed before rugby tests (back)

Angela Melick, the cartoonist behind the online dairy / general silliness comic Wasted Talent, has posted a positive review of Hereville.

The author, Barry, was my across-the-way neighbor at Stumptown. Hereville is “Easily in the top 3 comics about troll-fighting orthodox Jewish girls”. But in all sincerity, the book is awesome. I mean, awesome in such a way that I wanted to read it slowly so that I could spend more time reading it… you know? I was genuinely excited for the plot to advance!

The story is the epitome of a fairy tale… except that at every single place where Barry has the opportunity to do something cliche, he surprises you. The plot is so tight, that it’s really a delight to read.

Hereville is painted in a limited pallete of henna-tones that really comes to life in print.

Thanks, Angela!

I barely talked to Angela at Stumptown, because twenty feet of space separated our tables, but we spent the entire two days facing each other and every once in a while we’d wave. :-)

It’s always nice to get positive feedback — but it’s doubly nice coming from other cartoonists. Please check Angela’s comic strip out.

I recently read through Ellen Datlow and Terry Windling’s anthology The Coyote Road, which isn’t a new release or anything. But hey. Since I took notes on the anthology, I thought I’d share them, for whatever they’re worth (probably not much).

I thought this was an excellent anthology. Anything edited by Ellen Datlow has, in my opinion, a high chance of being excellent, but I was especially impressed by this one. I’ve been reading through the Datlow/Windling fairy tale anthologies recently as well (and may blog about them), and I thought Coyote Road shone in comparison. I don’t know why that is. If i had to take a guess, I’d say that the rewritten fairy tale genre represents territory that’s more trod, particularly by the time Datlow and Windling hit book 5 or 6. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy the fairy tale anthologies, and particularly some of the stories — I do very much like the fairy tale anthos. But I thought that the Coyote Road had a higher overall quality.

In my personal rating system (which is not at all a fair; it’s tilted severely toward giving things low ratings), I rated two of these stories with fives (total adoration), one with a four (strong enthusiasm), eight with threes (enjoyment), two with twos (competent stories that didn’t appeal to me personally for whatever reason), and nine with ones (stories I didn’t particularly like for one reason or another).

My favorite piece from the anthology is Kij Johnson’s Nebula nominated novelette, “The evolution of trickster stories among the dogs of North Park after the Change.” Diatryma says she adores the character, and there is nice character development here of both humans and canines, but I was particularly impressed by the weaving of different types of narratives into this story. It’s an extremely well-rendered balance of scene, meta-fictional intrustion, and mythic stories, all of which add up to an extremely moving piece.

The other story I rated a five was Kelly Link’s “Constable of Abal,” the story of a woman and her daughter who keep ghosts on ribbons. This story has all the best hallmarks of Link’s work: extremely vivid imagery, appealing strangeness, a carefully constructed mood. My most common complaint about Link’s stories is that they are sometimes structurally weak, or have trouble finding an ending, but this story is plotted extremely well and ends satisfyingly without losing the imagery or the mood.

I also enjoyed Ellen Kushner’s “Honored Guest” which makes me want to check out her Swordspoint series. For some reason, I’ve never read any Kushner before. I’m missing something.

Many of the stories in this anthology are well-written, engaging, diverting reads. For instance, Pat Murphy’s “One Odd Shoe” and Delia Sherman’s “The Fiddler of Bayou Teche” are both very entertaining stories that play with interesting characters, settings, and voices, even though neither felt totally fresh to me. I enjoyed reading them, and I’d read them again. Barzak gives some gorgoeus details about Tokyo in “Realer Than You” and Caroline Stevermer made me laugh in “Uncle Bob Visits’swith her ghost who hates diagramming sentences.

I adore Elllen Klages’s work, which may be why I was a trifle disappointed in “Friday Night at St. Cecilia’s,” the perfectly nicely written and entertaining story of a private school girl who plays a board game with Queen Mab. The story as a whole is diverting and fun and was a pleasant read, but I missed the feeling of emotional resonance I’ve found in most other Klages stories.

There were two stories in the anthology — Jebediah Barry’s “The Other Labyrinth” and Jeffrey Ford’s “The Dreaming Wind” — that I wanted to like more than I did. Both had absolutely gorgeous imagery. I’m a sucker for labyrinths of roses and mirrors, not to mention winds that can recreate people in the image of goats or parrots in the image of baby dolls. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel either story was able to bring their stories to a conclusion that suited their vivid beginnings. “The Other Labyrinth” seems to set up one kind of story, and then switch tone in the middle. “The Dreaming Wind” establishes a phenomenon so cool that I never quite forgave the author for refusing to let the event actually happen.

Like “The Other Labyrinth” and “The Dreaming Wind,” Nina Kiriki Hoffman’s “The Listeners” had an extremely compelling beginning — though in the case of that story, I was drawn to characterization and world-building rather than imagery. Unfortunately, I also felt this story tapered off at the end.

The stories in Coyote Road are supplemented by author’s notes, which I love. Will Shetterly argues in his author’s note that author’s notes in general reduce a story’s appeal to that of a “show” with its backstage tricks revealed — I absolutely can’t agree. One thing I enjoy about fiction is being able to enjoy it through multiple facets. Seeing a story from a writer’s perspective does not dim my ability to see it as a reader.

In my usual persnickety way, I read through this anthology haphazardly instead of straight through — and as usually happens, there were a few stories left at the end whose first pages I kept glancing at and going “I don’t want to read that” before flipping to the next piece. I always end up reading those stories last, and it’s possible that I was just done with the anthology’s theme by the time I got to them — but, as always, I enjoyed those stories least. There were four stories in this anthology that I had to push myself to skim. I abandoned those four at their halfway points.

There are a number of stories in this anthology that take on trickster myths directly, particularly a number that engage with Coyote. Of these, I thought the best was Pat Murphy’s “One Odd Shoe.”

However, in general, I wasn’t as fond of the stories that took a direct look at the trickster myths rather than finding different ways of engaging with trickster legends. I love coyote stories — but I love them enough that I’d rather read the originals than derivatives. Kim Antieu’s “The Senorita and the Cactus Thorn,” for instance, was perfectly competent and entertaining enough, but it was sufficiently similar to the style of the original legends that I found myself wanting to go back and reread those instead.

The authors in the anthology take on a number of different kinds of tricksters, from Hermes, to a labyrinth maker descended from Daedelus, to Louisiana fiddlers. I think the anthology would have been improved by a little bit more diversity in terms of the tricksters that authors chose to work with. For instance, I was surprised that no one engaged with Odysseus or Anansi (Edited to add: Ellen Datlow has kindly pointed out that while no stories took on Anansi, there is a Jane Yolen poem in the anthology that works with the spider trickster). I was also disappointed in the only piece that worked with the historically complicated Brer Rabbit narrative.

For me, the most successful stories were those that found unique ways to engage with trickster mythology. Kij Johnson’s is the msot obvious example. In her piece, she’s directly engaging with trickster myths — and with Coyote — but she’s doing so in a way that engages with and recontextualizes the trickster myths, deconstructing them to investigate their cultural traction, and then rebuilding them to create new insights.

This was a really cool anthology, and I highly recommend it.

So I find the American political process completely mystifying. At this stage it seems apparent that you guys have reached the baroque stage of elections - a complicated, expensive edifice that references nothing but itself.¹ Both the Democrat candidates would probably be on the right of the National party (our right wing). I read blogs of people who seem to see similar problems with the world than I do, even if they generally have less radical solutions, and I don’t understand the way they view this electoral process. So I’m going to ask a question of liberal/left-wing/progressive commentators, because I really want to know.

Who has said more that you agree with and less you disagree with Obama or Reverend Wright?

PS - the other thing I’ve been wondering is for Americans who are anti-war which is the more pertient question:

“What’s Obama doing meeting with Bill Ayers”

or

“What’s Bill Ayers doing meeting with Obama”

1. unless I’ve got what baroque means wrong, in which case it’s something else (back)

Clinton:

“There was just an AP article posted that found how Sen. Obama’s support among working, hard-working Americans, white Americans, is weakening again, and how whites in both states who had not completed college were supporting me.”

“There’s a pattern emerging here,” she said.

Yes, there is a pattern emerging.

Elrod:

[…] The implication is, of course, that hard-working goes hand-in-hand with white. Never mind that Obama has won hard-working black Americans, or that he’s won whites everywhere outside the South and the Rust Belt.

The “hard-working Americans, white Americans” is a classic Wallace/Helms/Buchanan equation of whiteness with hard work and honesty. The opposite is either effete white intellectuals who don’t work, or lazy blacks who also don’t work. In fact, the Reagan coalition GOP even dropped the word “white,” knowing that “hard-working” and “law-abiding” already implied, in their minds, white people.

I don’t think Hillary Clinton really believes that only white people are hard-working. But she has to know that such phrasing is downright toxic given the racially polarized electorate in the primary.

Jack and Jill Politics:

Hard-working Americans = white Americans. Right. The rest of us sit on our porches eating watermelon and plucking banjos.

For some reason, despite this “broader base” Clinton still seems to be having trouble raising money, and you know, getting more votes than her opponent. But at this point any abstract metric besides votes or delegates that Clinton can use as a rationale for her candidacy becomes the only appropriate one to use.

This kind of comment is less a description than an agitator, it’s meant to give white voters the impression that they would be “disenfranchised” by an Obama win. It’s a not so subtle effort to evoke racial resentment over Obama’s success. […]

J&JP also points out that neither Clinton nor Obama will win a majority of the white vote in November (the majority of whites have always gone to Republicans, in recent decades). What matters isn’t who gets the majority of whites, but who gets the majority of voters.

Pam at Pandagon:

The frame is specific — that’s why Clinton referred to hard working white Americans. What happened to “blue collar Americans?” Oh wait, there are a lot of hard working black and brown blue collar/working class Americans, and many of them they voted for Obama, so she had to slice that demo down to the bottom line. Dog whistles no more.

I want to believe that it wasn’t a purposeful slip of the tongue because it’s too painful to contemplate that the black vote is now perceived as a “problem” because it skews to Obama, and because there are more white voters who have a problem with him based on his race, we have to nail that demo.

Remember, the black vote has been the most reliable Democratic vote, not the Reagan Democrats. Black voters don’t turn out for Obama solely because he is black. I’ve blogged before about this bizarre train of thought — if the affinity vote is so powerful we would have seen a bum rush for Alan Keyes. What Clinton is saying is not inaccurate (polls slice and dice this way), but its use here is inappropriate and inflammatory.

In Matthew Yglesias’ comments, Brendan writes:

The point isn’t that she’s calling non-whites lazy–I didn’t read it that way at all–but that she’s suggesting white votes should carry more weight than black votes in choosing the nominee. That is a blatantly racist claim, no matter the ostensible rationale behind it.

Steve Benen:

Let’s put aside the unfortunate wording of Clinton’s statement in which she equated “hard-working” with “white,” and consider the merits of her broader point.

Clinton has done well with white “hard-working” Americans, especially in states like Pennsylvania. But her argument is premised on the notion that White Joe Six Pack who votes in a Democratic primary would rather support a Republican than Obama. Where’s the proof to bolster this claim? There isn’t any.

By the logic of Clinton’s argument, we should also note that her support among African Americans is quite poor, and the “pattern” is pretty clear. Are we to assume that if she were the nominee, those same voters would back McCain over her? That Clinton couldn’t possibly win because she’d never get the support of African-American Dems? Of course not.

Why, then, characterize the race in this illogical, race-based way?

The Politico’s Ben Smith:

Now, the press has talked about the race in these terms constantly, so I won’t feign shock. But it’s a bit strange to hear it so bluntly from the candidate’s mouth, and probably not a great way to endear herself to African-American voter.

And it’s also noteworthy that the blunt talk on appealing to whites surfaces the day after the last round of primaries in which there’s a substantial number of black voters.

More blogging on this: Stereohyped, All About Race, The Angry Black Woman, Comments From Left Field, Jeff at Blog Of The Moderate Left (but unless I missed it, not cross-posted to Shakesville), Fables of the Reconstruction, The Roland Report. The American Street.

Did you know that Dorothea Lange, famed Depression-era photographer, had polio and that her experience with disability informed her work?

Ms. CripChick presents the latest Disability Blog Carnival on Disability Culture and Identity: “Here They Come!”

“I think it was perhaps the most important thing that happened to me. It formed me, guided me, instructed me, helped me, humiliated me, all those things at once. I’ve never gotten over it, and I am aware of the force and power of it.”
—Dorothea Lange on disability

Over 40 bloggers weigh in on how the shared history, struggle, and culture of disability inform personal and group identity. This is an impressive collection of varied explanations on how what is viewed as a deficit by mainstream culture can be a binding force and a cause for celebration. Go and read.

Image description: The icon above, provided by CripChick, is a color image of a self-portrait by Frida Kahlo with the words “DISABILITY BLOG CARNIVAL” in bold black type across the painting. The image is a close-up of Frida in her wheelchair from the 1951 painting “Self-Portrait with Portrait of Dr. Farill” described in detail in both English and Spanish here.

Cross-posted at The Gimp Parade

The Terminator TV show (all nine episodes that exist so far) is an extremely pleasant surprise — who would have expected it to be good? Heron61 deduces some implications of time travel in the Terminator show and movies (some spoilers):

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