A Cautionary Tale: President Abbie Hoffman

Imagine, if you will, an alternate reality where counterculture radical Abbie Hoffman was somehow elected president of the United States in 1972. Ridiculed as a lunatic by his opponents and considered a long shot even by ardent supporters, Hoffman lost the popular vote to incumbent Richard Nixon. But, due to a quirk in America's voting system, he squeaked through a narrow victory in the electoral college and, on January 20, 1973, assumed the presidency.

Predictably, sweeping and radical changes came swiftly to the US government. In March, Secretary of Defense Eldridge Cleaver was tasked with withdrawing all troops from Vietnam, followed by a complete dismantling of the military and all police forces. By July, Secretary of the Treasury Jerry Rubin had closed the New York Stock Exchange and eliminated the dollar as the basis of US currency, stating that money would henceforth be "free, because it's yours."

In 1974's infamous War on Sobriety, drug czars Grace Slick and Jerry Garcia oversaw the legalization of all drugs and the introduction of LSD into the country's water supply. 1975 saw Attorney General Allen Ginsberg grant clemency to all state and federal prisoners, in the process converting the country's empty prisons into ashrams and zendos. Ginsberg's other pet project was a month-long attempt to levitate the Pentagon via chanting.

By mid-1976 the United States was in tatters, and with Republican challenger Gerald Ford rising steadily in the polls, Hoffman published Steal This Election, a manifesto warning of the dire consequences of a Ford victory. In it, he insisted that Ford's candidacy was a CIA- and Mafia-backed plot, and indeed a threat to democracy itself. Ford's ascendancy in the polls, Hoffman argued, was nothing but a sure sign that the November election would be rigged. In the book's final chapter, Hoffman urged his supporters—hippies, yippies, anarchists and "lovers of freedom"—to take direct action should the November results be in Ford's favour.

Ford, of course, won the 1976 election handily, but Hoffman refused to concede. Scores of lawsuits alleging voter fraud were summarily tossed, even by such Hoffman-friendly judicial appointees as Bobby Seale and Bernadine Dohrn. As the president's conspiracy-themed rantings grew increasingly shrill and unhinged, Vice-President Huey Newton tried to talk him down from what had become his fixation: a violent revolution that would enshrine him in his rightful role as president ... for life.

One way or another, things had to come to a head. On January 6, 1977, two weeks before Ford's inauguration, thousands of self-styled "patriot freaks," fuelled by speed, cocaine and an early-morning rally with President Hoffman, stormed the US Capitol. Any remnants of a security force were swamped in minutes, as the rioters smashed windows and doors, desecrating the hallowed halls of Congress. "Start the steal!" they shouted as the melee unfolded. "The people's house belongs to the people!"

America, you have just endured four years of Abbie Hoffman's mirror image.

 

Reaction to the US Election

After several nail-biting days, the US presidential election has finally been called in favour of Joe Biden. And though the current occupant can spew all the lawsuits and fury he wants, his case that the election was "rigged" has no merit. Zero. It's over, he's fired, and all that's left is for the authorities to drag him from the White House in handcuffs come inauguration day. (Yes, I'm convinced it'll come to that.)

CNN asked its viewers/readership how we felt about Biden's victory, and here's what I wrote: "On this warm autumn day in downtown Toronto, I look out my front window and see that the house across the street has decorated its front railing in red, white and blue bunting. We're celebrating with you in our understated Canadian way. Your closest neighbours (yes, that's a 'u' in there; trust me, it belongs) are relieved and elated to welcome back the America we once knew: a beacon of freedom, decency and truth. We look forward to working alongside you to create a better, more equitable and sustainable future for all. May God bless, protect and guide Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, elected officials of all stripes, and the American people. Warmest congratulations to the new administration."

Listening to Biden's victory speech, I was struck by his conciliatory tone and how much he sounded like ... a traditional president-elect. How refreshing this is after four years of chaos, childish name-calling and "alternative facts." As CNN commentator Van Jones said in reaction to the speech, "Boring is the new thrilling. Predictable is the new exciting. And normal is the new extraordinary."

Summer Potpourri

This month's post is a bit of a mish-mash, as none of what's on my mind merits a full-blown screed. So, in no particular order:

New Covers. "God's Children" (The Kinks), "Late Night" (Syd Barrett), "Lightning Rose" (Jefferson Starship—ongoing Paul Kantner tribute). Coming soon to an open stage. I'm also working up "Moments of the Soft Persuasion" (Peter, Paul and Mary), but not for live performance. Oh, I can get through it okay but this tune, which has an absolute killer chorus, falls flat without harmonies. If I could find a Paul and Mary to sing it with me, I'd sing the Peter bit. In the meantime, I aim to record a version by overdubbing all three vocals. In trying to work through the changes I kept getting stuck on this one chord. Had no idea what it was. I finally isolated what the singers were doing and figured at the very least, those three notes must be constituent parts of the mystery chord. Those were A, C# and F#, all on the second fret. I then randomly wrapped my thumb around the bottom strings on the same fret and as soon as I strummed, I knew I had hit on it. But what was it called? Since my last "secret chord" post I've discovered a handy chord namer. But if you punch in this chord—a shape that frets everything at the second fret but leaves the D-string open—check out the unwieldy names it generates! That's why I call my chords "Am funny," "Fmould" and so on. That said, "Bm9/F#" was both pithy and accurate, so Bm9/F# it shall be. The magic chord occurs between F#m and G at the start of the killer chorus. Try it, you'll love it.

Brexit. David Cameron will go down in infamy as the British PM who irreparably fractured not one but two long-standing geopolitical alliances—the European Union and the UK itself—all for the sake of quelling internal party squabbles. A bit drastic, no? It's also cost him his job, which may not be a bad thing.

Populism. I've had a couple of people tell me that Donald Trump is eminently qualified for the US presidency because "he's not a politician." You've heard these arguments too, I'm sure. Here's what I find odd: if you wanted someone to train your prize race horse and ride it to victory, would you hire an accountant? Is a jockey your go-to guy when preparing your year-end financials? I'm guessing not. So why does prevailing wisdom tell us that politicians are corrupt, incompetent and unfit to govern simply because they're politicians? And were we to elect a plumber, beautician or snake-oil salesman, would he/she not be tarred with the same brush after a term or two in office anyway? I don't get it.

BMO Field. My tailgating concerns aside, the Argos' new home is a winner even if the team isn't yet. I missed last night's opener but took in the preseason game a couple of weeks back, and I loved it. The seating is cozy, intimate and, for those of us old enough to remember CNE Stadium pre-baseball, a throwback to a golden era of Argonaut football. (Pedantic aside: we football fans never, ever called it "Exhibition Stadium." The Blue Jays brought that moniker in 1977. It was and shall forever remain CNE Stadium. More pedantry: the new place is pronounced BEE-mo, not B-M-O.) I've lately been looking at aerial maps, present and historical, to determine where the CNE's north grandstand was in relation to the new digs. We had season tickets for a few years in the '70s and I recall them being in said grandstand, Section D, Row 33. Seats might have been 3 and 4. As far as I can tell, the old grandstand would cut across the south end of BMO Field on an angle of, oh, 60 degrees or so, meaning my CNE seat would be floating in space somewhere around what's now the 20-yard line, near the west sideline. You see, BMO faces directly north/south; CNE Stadium had a broadly NW/SE orientation. That alone made my first visit to BMO a bit jarring, because there I was, in essentially the same place watching the same team, and the views, the atmosphere, everything is almost-but-not-quite like I remember it. We are, after all, talking 40 years later. It's kind of like looking at an old family portrait on a funny angle with 3D glasses, and there's a blank space where Uncle Ted and Aunt Bertha used to be.

CNE Stadium is now a parking lot, with a cracked marker in the middle of it that says "Exhibition Stadium - Home Plate." Useless if you're trying to locate the grandstand, which was so far from the plate that it may as well have been in the next county. Anyway, I dream that someday the city will create a proper memorial for CNE Stadium, even as revisionist historians decry it as the Mistake by the Lake. (Pedantry, final instalment: whatever its flaws, not a soul called it that during its lifetime. The revisionists have borrowed/appropriated the nickname of Cleveland Municipal Stadium.) In the meantime I'll learn to love BMO, tilted angle, missing persons and all. Whether or not you're all misty-eyed over CNE Stadium, BMO Field is a marked improvement over the Argos' former home, the cavernous and sterile Rogers Centre. Which, by the way, I think is an okay venue for baseball. Not stellar, but serviceable.

By the way, here's a fabulous photo of CNE Stadium in its pre-baseball configuration. This was taken on November 25, 1973 at the Grey Cup, two weeks after my first game there, the Eastern Semi-Final between the Argonauts and Montreal Alouettes. And here's the football field in 1976, during the facility's conversion for baseball. I guarantee I would have been at this game, but am not in the photo. Section D was about 15 yards deep in the near end zone and is cropped out of the shot.

Grammar. In the space of 24 hours I've heard two football commentators say something like "The training staff is going to be very precautious." The adjective is "cautious," guys. Sufficient in and of itself; no need for a prefix. You can be very cautious and take precautions, though.

Toronto Mayoral Race: Vote ABBG

Anybody But the Bald Guys. And Rob Ford's rapidly receding hairline qualifies him as substantively bald. Now, don't get me wrong; it's not their baldness I object to but their policies (or what few leanings I've been able to discern amidst the mudslinging).

Sadly, if current polls hold true we'll be electing a hothead for mayor, one way or the other—bald or substantively bald, should you care about that sort of thing.

Notes on the UK Election

Only the British can transform an electoral circus into a dignified waltz. Witness this BBC headline: "Talks between Labour and the Liberal Democrats appear to have reached no conclusion." I had to read it a few times (and watch the attendant coverage) to suss out the translation: talks broke off.

Equally enjoyable is the manner in which election results are announced. Nothing is revealed until every vote is counted, at which time a well-respected returning officer strides to the podium. He/she is flanked by the candidates, all of whom wear gaudy ribbons to identify their party affiliation, looking for all the world as if they were contestants in a dog show. At last—and with much gravitas—the well-respected returning officer makes a sober announcement:

"I, Whatever Whatever, Returning Officer for the Constituency of Lambeth, hereby declare the results of the 2010 General Election as follows: Hutchison, Christopher James Charles, commonly known as 'Thing,' Monster Raving Loony Party, 78 votes." At which point the frizzy-haired bloke on the officer's left—he of the candy-cane suit, fluorescent green tie and oversize bowler hat—clasps his hands, raises them above his head and breaks into a big grin.

This delightful mix of restraint, decorum and out-and-out lunacy tells me that Britain is where I belong.

PM Prorogues Himself

OTTAWA (KP) - Prime Minister Stephen ("You Call Me Steve, You Die, Socialist Scum") Harper has prorogued himself for an indefinite period, the Kanadian Press has learned.

"Well, look what happened to Mr. Dion and Mr. Rae this past week," Harper told reporters. "I'm no fool. One week you're an Ottawa big shot, the next you're a night clerk at your uncle's motel. Like hockey coaches, politicians are hired to be fired ... but not me. Uh-uh. I'll de-materialize before they boot me out—the GG, Parliament, whoever; if you ask me they're all separatist motherfucking traitors. What's that, François? Oui, oui, quote me, but use the proper translation: 'les jolies souverainistes.' Now if you'll kindly excuse me, I have some urgent Senate appointments to make."

Turf 'Em Out!

Last week's partisan-vitriol-disguised-as-economic-update was, quite simply, a disgrace. Repeat after me, Mr. Harper: M-I-N-O-R-I-T-Y. You cannot govern like a dictator, ramming your ideological whims through Parliament. Further, in order to govern at all, you must maintain the confidence of the House of Commons, which you clearly have lost.

This has nothing to do with "overturning election results" and besides, if you and your minions want to play electoral shell games, let's remember that 62% of Canadians did not vote Conservative.

Pseudo-patriotic babble about "saving Canada" from a "coup" notwithstanding, the sole undemocratic act in the course of this fiasco is about to be committed by the Prime Minister, should the Governor-General allow it: a proroguing of Parliament. Such hijinks serve but one purpose: to enable der Fuhrer to evade certain defeat for another month and a half. Meanwhile, Canada's economy lurches on, eagerly awaiting a leader with actual economic policies to implement.

This government under no circumstances can (or should) continue governing, yet it's pulling out all the stops (rallies, TV and radio ads, fear-mongering) to maintain its grip on power.

Will the coalition refer to itself as "Canada's new government" in its eventual throne speech? I sure hope so.

Update: A Vote, Yes ... for No One

So, last night I trundled up to my local advance poll to vote for none of the above. After a half-hour wait in line that quelled any concerns of participatory democracy losing its sheen, I marked my ballot thus:

BALLOT DELIBERATELY LEFT BLANK.

NONE OF THESE CANDIDATES REPRESENT MY INTERESTS.

PLEASE RECORD AS A PROTEST VOTE.

A Canadian federal ballot contains precious little white space, precisely in order to discourage such shenanigans. I crammed my message into the tiny area surrounding the first name (a Communist, if I recall), knowing full well that my efforts count only as another spoiled ballot.

Why I Will Not Vote

Conservative: Muzzle local candidates because, God forbid, they might shoot off their mouths and tell the truth about the party once known as CRAP. Will drain tax dollars away from infrastructure, housing and arts/culture and funnel them into the military. Determined to continue a senseless, unwinnable war. Utter contempt for artists, the arts, and anything urban. This agenda is nowhere to be found on their sleek, spin-doctored web site, which befits the most tightly controlled campaign in Canadian history.

Liberal: Brought Canada into Afghanistan and fully support the war. Most notable accomplishment: served as Official Opposition that refused to oppose. Much-hyped Green Shift will transfer the tax base from income to pollution and other "bad things." Who gets to decide what's a bad thing? Oops, I forgot: a cadre of health-and-environment lobbyists have decided for us (smoking, global warming, obesity, bisphenol A). No further discussion needed. Leader prone to fear-mongering insistence that we must act now to save (our country, our planet, our children ... insert motherhood-and-apple-pie noun here).

NDP: Marches in lockstep with the toxin witch-hunters. The NDP vows to "take more poisons out of people's homes, consumer products and communities," generously giving us the gift of purity whether we want it or not. With respect to health policy, they promise to ban trans fats. Next they'll tackle "the crisis of childhood obesity." (No, Jack, it was a crisis last month. Now it's an epidemic. No, breaking news: it's been upgraded to a pandemic.)

Green: A one-trick pony and for my money, scarier than Stephen Harper. Alarmist enviro-crazies who view NDP and Liberal environmental policies as half-baked half measures. Web site reveals a take-no-prisoners approach that aims to ban all toxins and confer special rights on those with environmental sensitivities. And who gets to decide what's toxic? Oh, right: our crack team of unbiased zealots.

I vote none of the above. Though each has something to commend them, the good stuff is far outweighed by the negatives. (Yes, even the Greens; if they could run the Ministry of Transport and nothing else, I'd support them.)

For the record, this is the first time I've done this. I've voted in every election (federal, provincial, and municipal) since I turned 18.

Letter to Howard Hampton, Leader, Ontario NDP

Dear Mr. Hampton,

As a lifelong NDP supporter, I regret to inform you that your Cancer Prevention Strategy, as unveiled in the current election campaign, compels me to take my vote elsewhere.

I quote from your web site: "Closely following priorities set by the Canadian Cancer Society, the NDP will build on its reputation as a leader in the fight against tobacco with a strong tobacco reduction strategy to prevent lung and oral cancers. The NDP plan includes cracking down on contraband and an Anti-Smoking Tobacco Tax to increase the cost of cigarettes by 17 per cent, bringing the rate up to British Columbia's, the leader in Canada."

A disproportionate percentage of Ontario's poor are smokers. This regressive, punitive tax hits one of your core constituencies where it hurts them most: in the wallet. It is with shock and dismay that I witness the New Democratic Party, champion of the oppressed, punishing—with pride, no less—a minority group that is among the most persecuted and reviled in Ontario today. The McGuinty government, through its recent series of campaigns, has seen fit to assault Ontario's smokers with ad hominem attacks that border on hate speech (e.g., telling them they "smell like dog crap" in a television ad).

I infer from the quoted material above (and the NDP's endorsement of the Smoke-Free Ontario Act, 2006) that strategies such as these have your full support. Your sole complaint, I would surmise, is that they don't go far enough. To wit: "We know there's a direct link between tobacco, exposure to toxins and cancer. It [sic] we're going to fight cancer, we need to stop exposing our families to cancer-causing agents including tobacco and toxic substances in our homes and backyards."

I remind you that Ontarians are legally entitled to smoke in any realm not specified in the Smoke-Free Ontario Act. This includes, but is not limited to, their "homes and backyards." Does the NDP's toxin search-and-destroy mission know no bounds, even if it means stripping one in six Ontarians of their legal rights as private citizens?

Federally and provincially, I have supported the NDP for nearly twenty-five years. As I stand in the ballot box this October 10th, I will mourn the death of the kinder, gentler New Democratic Party I knew—that of Donald MacDonald, Stephen Lewis, and Bob Rae. I will plaintively recall a party that sought social justice for all and reluctantly cast my vote elsewhere.