Because I am superstitious and because I mistrust anyone who is paid, quite well I’d imagine, to sit in front of a camera and explain the workings of the world to the masses, I shivered a bit when Rachel Maddow declared the labor dispute in Wisconsin over. The Republicans, said she, who, led by their governor, were trying to strip unions of state employees of their right to bargain collectively, had lost. The moment of victory, according to Rachel Maddow, was the legislator being wrestled to the ground by security guards as he tried to enter the state capitol building to retrieve personal belongings from his office, all of which was caught, of course, on video. Furthermore, according to Rachel Maddow, this loss in Wisconsin is but the beginning: The Republicans bit off more than they could chew in the 2010 mid-term elections, and for that they will pay dearly in 2012.
I’d never watched Rachel Maddow until this week, when I had access to hundreds of cable television channels, and I was completely underwhelmed by her. She struck me as quite similar to conservative commentators in that her priority does not seem to be getting it right: She seems to be more interested in getting it first.
I don’t know if she declared the dispute over first or not, but I do know that she was wrong. Quite wrong, in fact. Because by the middle of the week, the Republicans got resourceful with the rules and regulations. They scrubbed the bill upheld by the absence of Democratic legislators clean of its numerical content – which, conveniently, nullified the quorum requirement – and then voted to strip the state unions of their right to collective bargaining. In less than 20 minutes, decades of small victories won by people who are niether wealthy nor powerful were thrown right out the window. So much for Rachel Maddow’s smug “game over.”
So I guess I didn’t get off to a great start with Rachel Maddow. Small loss, because regardless of the political slant, regardless of whether or not I’ve ever seen the person in question, I think there’s something fundamentally suspect about the television crowd. They make too much money, and their focus, understandably, seems to be on the delivery rather than the substance. For the sake of comparison, I watched Bill O’Reilly for the first time last week as well. In terms of tone and the general willingness to muddy key aspects of opposing arguments with glib generalities, I don’t think there’s a lot of difference between the two.
Anyhow, speaking of off-base predictions, another aspect of the news from Wisconsin that made me really nervous was the arrival of Michael Moore, a phenomenon that is never subtle. Personally, I have never been asked by the leaders of a dispute to coordinate the summoning to town of national figures, but if I were, there are two individuals who would never make it onto my short list. The first is Al Sharpton.
As for the second, I don’t know if Michael Moore’s denying that there is a financial crisis in the U.S., and in Wisconsin, could have been more lethal if he’d loaded the rifles himself and then handed them to anti-union Republicans right before next year’s election. What’s funny about that is that I am convinced that the recession is in large part a PR stunt orchestrated and executed by the financial industry. But saying that in the midst of the Wisconsin dispute is just plain stupid. I can already hear how Michael Moore’s words will be used to win the votes of people who are truly struggling: Look at these liberals. They don’t care about your situation. You don’t matter to them. They’re ignoring your plight because they think they’re better than you.
And Rachel Maddow is announcing to her millions of viewers that Republicans will “pay dearly” in 2012? Please.
Michael Moore sucked up a lot of time on Democracy Now, a radio program on which he made one breathy, emotionally amped statement after another. One thing that caught my attention, and not in a good way, was his assertion that the Republicans will “get their comeuppance” for this vote. I wondered if he and Rachel Maddow had compared notes before opening their mouths, or if they were feeding off one another. Or maybe they just have access to data that I don’t, because as far as I can see we cannot grasp the concept that if everyone cancelled a credit card or two, the bankers and other assorted thieves who put a pretty decent dent in the worldwide economy would be brought to their knees, and quickly, so why anyone would think that what happened in Wisconsin will influence voters at any point further into the future than next month is beyond me.
He was just getting warmed up: This, Michael Moore said urgently, right here and right now, in Wisconsin, is … the … moment. I sipped my coffee and turned the page in my magazine. The moment for what? As if reading my mind, he went on: It’s time for us to rush out of our houses and join in solidarity with the people in Wisconsin and show everyone that we’re not going to take it anymore. Personally, I’m not holding my breath. There are far too many celebrity meltdowns running simultaneously at the moment. Plus, gas prices are on the rise. As far as I can tell, the only thing going anywhere is the story itself, which has rushed right off of page one and was, as of yesterday, stuck in the middle of the front section.
Anyhow, the strangest thing I heard Michael Moore say involved the couch. Actually, it wasn’t what he said that was strange, it was the way I reacted to it. In the midst of all the talk about the importance of the moment, the comeuppance that’s on the way and many other things, Michael Moore – Michael Moore – said, “It’s time to get up off the couch.” I cannot listen to him say that and take it seriously. I know I’m being petty, and catty and a few other things, but the image of Michael Moore getting up off my couch to rush anywhere is a picture that makes it difficult for me to stop laughing.