LIKE 1968, ONLY BETTER

Forty years ago. The Election of Attrition. A political year of blood and mayhem, with the pitiful survivors of November crawling into an arena frequented only months earlier by the stars of their sport. Lyndon Johnson took a powder. So did Robert Kennedy, literally. Nelson Rockefeller was figuratively killed by his party for being too liberal, too Happy.

Democrats were left to front Hubert Humphrey, the happy-faced, fast-talking vice president. Republicans backed Richard Nixon, a paranoid scowler who'd already blown one bid for the White House. Everyone else got George Wallace, a racist still unaware of the bullet and wheelchair in his future.

We flash forward to four decades later and the circle is closed. The best candidates -- at least on the Democratic bench -- are back to flipping impeachment burgers (Dennis Kucinich) and minding the Senate store (Chris Dodd, Hillary Clinton). The Republicans overlooked an optimist and a Mormon.

Who would have bet six months ago that John McCain might beat Barack Obama? Bill Clinton:

"[H]e has some redeeming qualities for a Republican: he doesn't believe in toture, he supported campaign finance reform and he doesn't think global warming is a myth ... So it is not gonna be all that easy to beat him."

The Obama faithful sniffed and barked at the Big Dog for not snapping a stiff-armed salute at their Leader, but the Dog knows the truth: This is politics, not the debate club. Want to implement the ideas, the ideals? Win. Or at least act like you want to win, and try to keep your nutty fan club (relatives, close associates, pastors, pill-popping spouses) in the basement until the polls close in the general election.

Obama should be 10, maybe 12 points ahead of McCain at this point, getting ready to vet the cabinet. Bill Clinton was beating Bob Dole like Balboa beats beef slabs in August 1996. Because Clinton knew it's all about the lowest common denominator. Save the oration for the inauguration.

We said last January that McCain was off-his-rocker crazy -- a clinical term, not tossed around lightly -- and thus unqualified to be President of the United States. He's still all that, but turns out he's fox crazy, too, cunning and willing to use the WASP knife in battle. Hence the priggish Sarah Palin, a meaty bone to the GOP base that can't stand McCain (McPain is one of the nicer nicknames the far right uses).

McCain knows he's using his base to win. He knows he's using Palin, even if he believes she's unqualified. He's already on record belittling wanna-bes:

"I am prepared. I am prepared. I need no on-the-job training. I wasn't a mayor for a short period of time. I wasn't a governor for a short period of time."

Democrats will try to use McCain's words against him, but it won't work. They're too angry at Republican hypocrisy to think straight. They're baffled by the bullshit, belittling Palin at their peril. Wily Willie Brown, the best political animal ever to set foot in California, hailed the Palin pick as a brilliant political move:

"Republicans are now on offense and Democrats are on defense. And we don't do well on defense."

Joe Biden has been defanged by the choice of Palin. That attack dog won't hunt. Obama is spending too much time talking about the Republicans' veep pick, not enough time keeping it simple. And raising money, given his flip-flop on public financing of his campaign. He's got to raise $100 million a month to meet his fundraising goals, and he's falling short. While Obama begs for bucks, McCain campaigns.

Democrats don't get it. John McCain wants to win. They want to whine.

A MONTH AND FOUR DAYS

That long since we last did any typing that didn't involve a TAKE WXMON or CG command. Look, Ma -- upper and lowercase letters!

Our apologies for the unexpected vacation from Blogistan. A bit of news from up north pushed CHATTER to a back burner. Rest assured, our focus has gone back to being unfocused. Summer reruns are over. A new season is here.

PRIMARY NIGHT

Sarah Steelman tried but failed to topple Missouri's GOP machine and its chosen candidate, Kenny Hulshof.

A Matt Blunt-appointed circuit judge fails to hold onto his seat in Greene County.

And a Springfield sales tax sails to victory, 81-19, despite one tiny corner's loud attempts to bully people into voting "no."

Not quite 20-percent of registered voters in Greene County cast ballots on Tuesday. Pitiful that turnout was seen as OK.

At KSPR, the web served as platform for a nearly hour-long newscast, starting at 9 p.m. The newly installed news ticker digested and spit out results as fast as we could keyboard them into the system.

Did the primaries turn out the way you expected them to?

ALEXANDER SOLZHENITSYN, 89

Death announced late Sunday by his son. He was a Nobel Prize winner.

According to The Associated Press:

Through unflinching accounts of the years he spent in the Soviet gulag, Solzhenitsyn's novels and non-fiction works exposed the secret history of the vast prison system that enslaved millions. The accounts riveted his countrymen and earned him years of bitter exile, but international renown.

And they inspired millions, perhaps, with the knowledge that one person's courage and integrity could, in the end, defeat the totalitarian machinery of an empire.

Ivan Denisovich lives on.

FEAR AND LESBIAN LOATHING

The strokers at Fox News are consistent, give them that. They toe the conservative line and decry the baser parts of the world while filling your phiz with lurid images and stories about sex.

This week's big Fox News push: Why is America tolerating a song about lesbians?

We suspect they're hyping about "I Kissed A Girl" by Katy Perry, a slip of a song with an insanely catchy chorus:

I kissed a girl and I liked it
The taste of her cherry chap stick
I kissed a girl just to try it
I hope my boyfriend don't mind it
It felt so wrong
It felt so right
Don't mean I'm in love tonight

Fox insinuates the song will make straight girls rush off and join the lesbian brigade -- further proof that today's world is debauched beyond belief.

Yep. Thank God the black-and-white days were only filled with songs about straight, missionary-position sex (done in the dark, of course, 'cause with the lights out, it's less dangerous). No one sang about disgusting things like masturbation, right? Just ask Leo Sayer:

Miles and miles of empty space in between us
The telephone can't take the place of your smile.
But you know I won't be travelling for ever.
It's cold out
But hold out
And do like I do.
When I need love
I hold out my hands
And I touch love. I never knew there was so much love
Keeping me warm night and day.

So much love. No one could ever accuse Sayer of being modest. And let's not even get into Devo.

DOWN AND OUT IN JEFF CITY

An interesting op-ed in the Wall Street Journal highlights the difficulties facing Missouri Republicans in November. Selected grafs:

For an insight as to why the GOP is down and out in Washington, take a look at Jefferson City. That's where Sarah Steelman, the state treasurer, is running in an Aug. 5 primary for the Missouri governorship. And it's where her reform campaign against earmarks and self-dealing is threatening the entrenched status quo, causing her own party to rise against her.

So bitter are House Minority Whip Roy Blunt and Sen. Kit Bond at Ms. Steelman's attack on their cherished spending beliefs that last month they rallied the entire Missouri congressional delegation to put out a public statement openly criticizing her campaign against six-term U.S. Rep. Kenny Hulshof. Joining them in their support of Mr. Hulshof has been the vast majority of the state Republican machine. Ms. Steelman is clearly doing something right. ...

Ms. Steelman's Republican colleagues were livid with her attempt to strip them of comfy pensions, annoyed with her "sunshine law" requiring them to be more open in their dealings, furious at her attacks on their ethanol boondoggles, appalled that she criticized GOP state Speaker Rod Jetton for moonlighting as a paid political consultant. The final straw was her temerity to make her primary race about her opponent's Washington earmarking record.

For Mr. Blunt, this is also just a wee bit personal. His son, Matt, is the outgoing governor, and has been on the receiving end of a few Treasurer Steelman blasts. Last year she stopped payment on a $70,000 secret check his administration cut to settle a sexual harassment suit against an official. Her demand for transparency blew the case into the open, infuriating GOP colleagues. ...

Mr. Hulshof has been able to tout his own history as an ethics reformer, though the fervor with which his party's regulars have embraced him has undercut that message. His real weakness is that despite conservative credentials on taxes or social issues, he's run wild with the GOP crowd that just won't relinquish the pork. Which is of course why Mr. Blunt (who pioneered House earmarks) and Mr. Bond (who sits at earmark central, the Senate appropriations committee) love him.

Happy happy joy joy for Jay Nixon, Missouri's attorney general and Democratic candidate for governor. Nixon's a terrible public speaker and uninspiring gubernatorial candidate. But in this campaign cycle, all he needs is a pulse to be competitive.

HOOKALICIOUS

We're suckers for ear candy. Few things in life are as satisfying as a delicious pop song -- jingle-jangle guitars and sharp harmonies, a driving bass beat, a drummer doing more than just keeping time.

And a hook that sinks deep and sticks around for life. A catchy chorus? Nice enough, but it's the hook that survives. Here are 35 for your brain:

Baba O'Riley
The Who

No chorus necessary -- just the words "teenage wasteland."

Copacabana (At The Copa)
Barry Manilow

At the Copa.

The Wurlitzer Prize (I Don't Want to Get Over You)
Waylon Jennings

Catchy chorus overpowered by Jennings' tear-your-heart lament: "I don't want to get over you."

Zombie
The Cranberries

Dolores O'Riordan yelps her way into our brains.

Freddie's Dead
Curtis Mayfield

That's what I said.

Come As You Are
Nirvana

Sometimes the aural delight is a stretched-out word -- in this case, Kurt Cobain's "memory-ah."

Be My Baby
The Ronettes

Whoa-oh-oh-oh.

Perfect Situation
Weezer

Perfect, wordless singalong hook.

Five O'Clock World
The Vogues

Ditto.

Laid
James

Falsetto yelping can be good.

The Break Up Song
Greg Kihn Band

Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.

Runaway
Del Shannon

I wa-wa-wa-wa-wonder.

Flathead
The Fratellis

Boisterous burst of voices making noise.

Crazy In Love
Beyoncé

She owes it all to the blast of horns first heard in The Chi-Lites' "Are You My Woman?"

Material Girl
Madonna

A material ... a material ... a material ...

I Want You Back
Jackson 5

Oh baby, give me one more chance.

Take On Me
A-ha

Slip of a song, but the dude can flit through the octaves.

The Adventure
Angels & Airwaves

I cannot live, I can't breathe, unless you do this with me.

Lullaby
Shawn Mullins

Everything's gonna be all right.

Maps
Yeah Yeah Yeahs

They don't love you like I love you.

I Miss You
Blink-182

Don't waste your time on me you're already a voice inside my head (or is it yed?).

Song 2
Blur

Whoo-hoo!

Baby One More Time
Britney Spears

Oh baby baby.

Lit Up
Buckcherry

I love the cocaine, I love the cocaine.

Le Freak
Chic

Freak out!

Hey Ya
Outkast

Shake it like a Polaroid picture.

Rock On
David Essex

James Dean.

Epic
Faith No More

You want it all but you can't have it.

Mmmbop
Hanson

The worst song, the best killer hook.

Doll Parts
Hole

Someday you will ache like I ache.

Holiday Road
Lindsey Buckingham

Buckingham's stretch on the word "road."

We Will Rock You/We Are The Champions
Queen

Stomp stomp clap. Everyone's done it.

Jessie's Girl
Rick Springfield

Why can't I find a woman like that?

Buddy Holly
Weezer

What's with these homies, dissin' my girl?

Hotel
R. Kelly featuring Cassidy

Checking out six in the morning.

These are our favorites. Yours?

SPEAK IN MANY TONGUES

Sen. Barack Obama said this week that Americans need to make sure their kids know how to speak Spanish. Jingoists reared up and said Obama has it wrong -- Americans need to make sure immigrants know how to speak English.

Pollster Rasmussen has it this way:

A national telephone survey conducted last month by Rasmussen Reports found ... 83% place a higher priority on encouraging immigrants to speak English as their primary language. Just 13% take the opposite view and say it is more important for Americans to learn other languages.

It's not an either/or debate -- it shouldn't be, at least -- but it's startling to see how fury over illegal immigration has created devolution among many formerly high-functioning humans. Their offspring will curse their stubborn bones.

Pissed about immigrants not knowing English? Volunteer in an ESL class. While you're at it, learn Standard Mandarin. It's the skill of the future.

MULLETS FOR MCCAIN

Ozarks definition of a mullet: The driver of a slow-moving RV, usually on a winding highway around Branson, always in front of you.

As RV Business reports, a poll shows mullets love Sen. John McCain:

Fully 67% of the 346 participants cast their ballots for Republican Senator McCain. Democratic Senator Barack Obama was a distant second at 25% while Libertarian Bob Barr carried 2% and another 6% were undecided.

The overwhelming factor among McCain supporters was his level of experience.

"There are several key issues, including national security, taxes and the economy," said a member of the supplier community. "Obama is inexperienced and has no track record to be qualified to lead our country. It's somewhat unbelievable he has gotten this far."

Slow-moving drivers for a slow-moving president.

JESSE HELMS, 86

The former U.S. Senator died early Friday, proving his patriotism by expiring on the Fourth of July.

ARMCHAIR CHIT CHAT

Matt Petcoff gave birth this week to a blog: Armchair Chit Chat, a sports-oriented read with a bastard-cousin relationship to the blog you're reading. The name gives it away.

Give Brother Matt a looksee, watch as his child grows into something that attracts millions of eyeballs. Or so we hope for Mr. Petcoff.

A FILM LIKE NO OTHER

The latest add to the CHATTER Wish List: Peter Greenaway's The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover, the closest thing to an acid trip without gnawing on blotter paper. No tinny aftertaste, and Helen Mirren is sensual.

We remember seeing it during a trip to D.C. and wishing, in vain, for the film to hit Springfield. Time to track down a DVD and add it to the library.

DESTROYED, NOT DEFEATED

Forty-seven years Wednesday since Ernest Hemingway went pop in search of his lost generation. Proof that all men do die equally, and that electroconvulsive therapy is probably not a good thing. There is also the truth that a double-barreled shotgun to the face is an effective way to check out, though it may leave the well-lighted room a little less than clean.

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them," the man once said. We aim to take that advice.

JULY EAR CANDY

Now playing on an iPod near you:

Funk #49
James Gang

Seven Words You Can Never Say On Television
George Carlin

Love Bomb
N.E.R.D.

Navajo Moon
Ana Popovic

Uninvited
Alanis Morissette

Radio Radio
Elvis Costello

I Let a Song Go Out Of My Heart
Thelonious Monk

Rocky Raccoon
The Beatles

21st Century Schizoid Man
King Crimson

Curtis 187
50 Cent

When my name in your mouth / Better watch how you talk ...

CHRISTINE DAUES EXPECTING

The weekday anchor of KSPR is expecting her second child with co-anchor and husband Joe Daues.

Local news from the local newspeople. We're trying to convince Christine to name the new baby "Ronald." Alas, resistance to the idea. Probably for the best. Selah.

BILL DIAL, 66

Smitty passes along an e-mail from Engineer Doug about the June 2 death of actor-turned-producer Bill Dial. Radioheads might remember him for his role as engineer Bucky Dornster in "WKRP in Cincinnati"

Dial appeared in two episodes, including "Turkeys Away," with its famous Les Nessman live report:

"Oh, they're plunging to the earth right in front of our eyes! One just went through the windshield of a parked car! Oh, the humanity! The turkeys are hitting the ground like sacks of wet cement!

As God is our witness.

NOT SO LOST, AFTER ALL

A few weeks ago The Media went with a bad-ass story about a previously undiscovered tribe in a rainforest hugging the Brazilian-Peruvian border. Television gobbled the story because it came with good vid, great vid, of tribesmen shooting arrows at the plane during a looksee.

Too good to be true, of course. As the Guardian explains:

[I]t has now emerged that, far from being unknown, the tribe's existence has been noted since 1910 and the mission to photograph them was undertaken in order to prove that 'uncontacted' tribes still existed in an area endangered by the menace of the logging industry.

The disclosures have been made by the man behind the pictures, José Carlos Meirelles, 61, one of the handful of sertanistas – experts on indigenous tribes – working for the Brazilian Indian Protection Agency, Funai, which is dedicated to searching out remote tribes and protecting them. ...

For two days, Meirelles says, he flew a 150km-radius route over the border region with Peru and saw huts that belonged to isolated tribes. But he did not see people. 'When the women hear the plane above, they run into the forest, thinking it's a big bird,' he said. 'This is such a remote area, planes don't fly over it.'

What he was looking for was not only proof of life, but firm evidence that the tribes in this area were flourishing – proof in his view that the policy of no contact and protection was working. On the last day, with only a couple hours of flight time remaining, Meirelles spotted a large community.

'When I saw them painted red, I was satisfied, I was happy,' he said. 'Because painted red means they are ready for war, which to me says they are happy and healthy defending their territory.' ...

Survival International, the organisation that released the pictures along with Funai, conceded yesterday that Funai had known about this nomadic tribe for around two decades. It defended the disturbance of the tribe saying that, since the images had been released, it had forced neighbouring Peru to re-examine its logging policy in the border area where the tribe lives, as a result of the international media attention. Activist and former Funai president Sydney Possuelo agreed that – amid threats to their environment and doubt over the existence of such tribes – it was necessary to publish them.

Use the tribesmen. Just don't let them know they're being used. As far as they know, you're just a big metal bird in the sky.

HUNTER HATER

Fourth-grade kid in Vermont goes to school, talks turkey with classmate during the break known as snack time. Teacher overhears conversation, goes all freaky.

Jared Harrington is now being home-schooled. His parents are on the hunt for a teacher trophy. As the Times Argus report:

Jared Harrington's mother, Wendy Bordwell, and his father, Martin Harrington, removed their son from school with 10 days left in the school year and home-schooled the 10-year-old boy.

"We are aggressively pursuing Jared's right to free speech," Bordwell said. ...

Bordwell said in a telephone interview that she believed her son was "singled out" by Kathleen Backus, Jared's teacher, while talking about hunting with a schoolmate.

Bordwell said that, during snack time, Jared was discussing the recent spring turkey hunting season with a classmate when Backus interrupted the conversation, insisting that there be no talk of "killing" in her classroom. ...

"Jared's teacher covered her ears, trying to block the conversation, and singing 'la la la la.' When asked by another school employee about her odd behavior, the teacher claimed she did not want to hear about the boys and their 'killing.' The boys were left feeling that they were not legitimate hunters, but 'killers' in the eyes of an important authority figure in their lives," Bordwell said.

After Jared's parents decided to take up the matter with the school board, Backus assigned 137 pages of homework for the boy.

"That led us to believe he was being singled out," Bordwell said.

Does Kathleen Backus enjoy her Thanksgiving bird?

PEACE, LOVE, KNOWLEDGE

Barack Obama campaigned hard to end politics "as we know it" -- a kōan perfect for the picayune American mind obsessed with change. Too many Americans are blissfully ignorant about politics (one in three can't name the governor of their state, and three in 10 can't name the vice president of their country). They want to change politics as they don't know it. Maybe then they'll pay attention.

But then again, no. Attention requires effort requires sacrifice, and we're just not into that. What, we should search for information and actually read it? Exercise the big muscle between the ears? Maybe if you bring it to our (desk)(couch)(bed) and hand it to us with the really important stuff highlighted. So, you know, we don't have to work at it.

And slap a slogan on it. We love slogans. "Change We Can Believe In." "A Leader We Can Believe In." "Ignorance Is Strength."

The men who would lead our country appreciate and rush to the lowest common denominator. They talk good, high-minded games to the faithful in their flocks, but they cater to the people who know Peyton Manning but draw a blank on Vladimir Putin, the folks who can't name the Sunni branch of Islam (to them, probably, all Muslims are sweaty, swarthy terrorists).

They follow another time-honored kōan: Keep it simple. Don't bother with facts. Nugget-sized platitudes and zingers, hold the sauce. Don't discuss the difficulties in the Middle East, the complexities of the U.S. relationship with China, the fact that Americans pay half as much (or less) than Europeans at the pump. Don't make people think. Hurts. Brains.

John McCain comes to Springfield on Wednesday. He's supposed to talk about energy and the economy. Avid Republicans will eat the sweets (even though they don't especially care for the confectioner). Avid Democrats will naysay his offerings as leftovers from the Bush kitchen.

Everyone else will wonder why traffic around Missouri State University is bollixed up, but only if it's inconvenient to them. What they know about John McCain and Barack Obama would fill a bumper sticker but not a brochure. They will decide this election based on the last, best slogan they saw on a 30-second ad, sometime in late October.

"The darkness of insanity," as the immortal poet-philospher Declan Patrick MacManus put it. Don't bother looking for a switch. The strong and the trusted like it better with the lights out.

TONY SCHWARTZ, 84

Media consultant. "Highly reclusive," according to The New York Times. Helped create the seminal moment in modern American politics.

From the Times obit:

“Media consultant” is barely adequate to describe Mr. Schwartz’s portfolio. In a career of more than half a century, he was variously an art director; advertising executive; urban folklorist who captured the cacophony of New York streets on phonograph records; radio host; Broadway sound designer; college professor, media theorist and author who wrote books about the persuasive power of sound and image; and maker of commercials for products, candidates and causes. What was more, Mr. Schwartz, who had suffered from agoraphobia since the age of 13, accomplished most of these things entirely within his Manhattan home.

Of the thousands of television and radio advertisements on which Mr. Schwartz worked, none is as well known, or as controversial, as one that was broadcast exactly once: the so-called “daisy ad,” made for Lyndon B. Johnson’s presidential campaign in 1964.

Produced by the advertising agency Doyle Dane Bernbach in collaboration with Mr. Schwartz, the minute-long spot was broadcast on Sept. 7, 1964, during NBC’s “Monday Night at the Movies.” It showed a little girl in a meadow (in reality a Manhattan park), counting aloud as she plucks the petals from a daisy. Her voice dissolves into a man’s voice counting downward, followed by the image of an atomic blast. President Johnson’s voice is heard on the soundtrack:

“These are the stakes. To make a world in which all of God’s children can live, or to go into the dark. We must either love each other, or we must die.”

His mentor and friend was Marshall McLuhan. Figures.

DEWING IT

We admit our addiction and are powerless to stop it. We're Dew junkies. Especially when it comes to the new flavors of Mountain Dew, tasties as enticing as China White and Black Tar.

There's Revolution, "infused with Wild Berry fruit flavor and Ginseng." Voltage is "charged with Raspberry Citrus flavor." Supernova -- perhaps the least-best of the lot -- has "a Blast of Strawberry Melon Flavor."

None of it is as toothsome as Code Red, the kindest of Dew buds. But Voltage is close, until Mountain Dew Oxy hits the market.

Dew Boy, save us from the madness.

A HONEY OF A HOUSEGUEST

Dateline: Concord, N.H.

Skinny: Homeowner sees sticky stuff on walls, dips a finger, takes a taste. It's honey. In the walls, bees crawled.

WYFF reports:

Mark Jones’ 100-year-old house has more than 60,000 [bees].

Jones and his wife, Amychelle, said they can sum it up in one word: insanity. On Sunday, they found a way to deal with the bees.

Beekeepers removed 60,000 bees from the Joneses' home Sunday morning, leaving about 1,000 still buzzing inside.

No queen, so no lingering infestation. Four bees stung the beekeepers. All good, and the house remains tasty.

DOC SAYS YOU'RE GONNA DIE

Man in Australia squats for a little roadside relief. Deadly brown snake squirms between his legs and lunges at the dangly bits. Man and snake freak.

The Cairns Post has the story:

Emergency workers raced to the scene to treat the man.

The wound was wrapped in plastic in case poison had penetrated the skin but medical staff gave the man the all-clear after conducting tests.

He was taken to Cooktown Hospital where he spent a night recovering.

The ambulance spokesman described him as "lucky", given his near encounter with one of Australia’s most poisonous snakes.

"I think he was a bit shocked and embarrassed," he said.

Life imitates joke.

PAST BLASTS, REVIVED

A couple bullets for your Sunday:

•A reporter has tracked down Adolf Hitler's nephew -- to America. Here's a graf from David Gardner's Telegraph story about Hitler's nephew and his offspring:

I was to discover that the Hitler bloodline was carried on through William Patrick's four sons - one of whom died in a road accident in 1989 - and that the brothers had decided in a remarkable pact not to have children themselves in order that Adolf Hitler's genes would die with them.

•The Daily Mail has the story of Sen. John McCain's first wife, Carol, and how she became a former. Suffice to say it doesn't flatter the GOP presidential candidate. After he returned home from a Vietnamese prison, he kicked her to the curb for a prettier model:

Ross Perot, who paid her medical bills all those years ago, now believes that both Carol McCain and the American people have been taken in by a man who is unusually slick and cruel – even by the standards of modern politics.

"McCain is the classic opportunist. He’s always reaching for attention and glory," he said.

"After he came home, Carol walked with a limp. So he threw her over for a poster girl with big money from Arizona. And the rest is history."

Is John McCain history, too? Not a chance.

BO DIDDLEY, 79

From The Associated Press:

A spokeswoman says Diddley died of heart failure. He had suffered a heart attack in August 2007, three months after suffering a stroke while touring in Iowa.