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Confessions of an RNC security guard

“‘There’s a lot of hot chicks here,’ he tells me in a failed attempt at a whisper. He reeks of chardonnay. ‘You cannot spring a woody here, dude. Your pants got no give, know what I mean? It’d be totally obvious. Gov. Palin is staying here — you gotta be careful. You get what I’m saying? You can’t get wood on the job.’

‘Thanks. I got it,’ I say.

One of his pals chimes in.

‘Gov. Palin is hot, dude,’ he says, collapsing onto a bench in front of the hotel entrance.

Even in their lusty, alcohol-fueled swoons, these young politicos still call Palin ‘governor.’ In a way, this reverential horniness is sort of endearing. But mostly it’s just creepy. Sitting on the bench, the young man leans his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, trying, and failing, to stave off vertigo. ‘Total MILF.’

‘All right, gentlemen,’ I say, wielding the word ‘gentlemen’ like a prison guard. ‘Get out of here. Time to go to sleep.’

The right-wing youth resurgence is taking shape here before my eyes and it has a strong erotic undercurrent. For the first time in American politics there is a strong alpha woman with whom mothers identify, and after whom sons lust. The GOP is playing the Oedipal card. And it could mean bloody war, fought house to house.

…I’m developing a purely anecdotal theory about Republican drunkenness: that it’s related to ideology. The less ideological arrive back at the headquarters earlier in the evening, between midnight and 1 a.m. These are, in chronological order, the Romney and the Giuliani supporters. Both are East Coast, urban college grad, corporate types. They like to drink and reminisce about the Harvard-Yale game, but they also like to wake up early, shave and not smell like booze at committee meetings. The Giuliani people are secular and more openly lecherous. So they tend to drink a bit harder and stay out closer to 1 a.m. The Ron Paul people party past 1 a.m., but not much. And they shave but they don’t showboat.

The ones who stay out the latest and come back the drunkest, I notice, are the Huckabee folks, the party’s rural conservatives. They believe in Jesus, in the hard-bitten way of the true alcoholic. If they ever sober up, it’ll be by the grace of the Lord; and if they intend to stay on the sauce and continue living, then they’ll really need His loving kindness. If you intend to be drinking heavily until closing time — 4 a.m. in the Twin Cities during the RNC — you had better walk home with Jesus.

I can’t place true McCainites on the alcohol-ideology matrix. I think they were all asleep by 9:30 p.m.” (Salon)

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For the Brain, Remembering Is Like Reliving

Experts say the study has all but closed the case: “Scientists have for the first time recorded individual brain cells in the act of summoning a spontaneous memory, revealing not only where a remembered experience is registered but also, in part, how the brain is able to recreate it.

The recordings, taken from the brains of epilepsy patients being prepared for surgery, demonstrate that these spontaneous memories reside in some of the same neurons that fired most furiously when the recalled event had been experienced. Researchers had long theorized as much but until now had only indirect evidence.” (New York Times)

Uncategorized

Confessions of an RNC security guard

“‘There’s a lot of hot chicks here,’ he tells me in a failed attempt at a whisper. He reeks of chardonnay. ‘You cannot spring a woody here, dude. Your pants got no give, know what I mean? It’d be totally obvious. Gov. Palin is staying here — you gotta be careful. You get what I’m saying? You can’t get wood on the job.’

‘Thanks. I got it,’ I say.

One of his pals chimes in.

‘Gov. Palin is hot, dude,’ he says, collapsing onto a bench in front of the hotel entrance.

Even in their lusty, alcohol-fueled swoons, these young politicos still call Palin ‘governor.’ In a way, this reverential horniness is sort of endearing. But mostly it’s just creepy. Sitting on the bench, the young man leans his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, trying, and failing, to stave off vertigo. ‘Total MILF.’

‘All right, gentlemen,’ I say, wielding the word ‘gentlemen’ like a prison guard. ‘Get out of here. Time to go to sleep.’

The right-wing youth resurgence is taking shape here before my eyes and it has a strong erotic undercurrent. For the first time in American politics there is a strong alpha woman with whom mothers identify, and after whom sons lust. The GOP is playing the Oedipal card. And it could mean bloody war, fought house to house.

…I’m developing a purely anecdotal theory about Republican drunkenness: that it’s related to ideology. The less ideological arrive back at the headquarters earlier in the evening, between midnight and 1 a.m. These are, in chronological order, the Romney and the Giuliani supporters. Both are East Coast, urban college grad, corporate types. They like to drink and reminisce about the Harvard-Yale game, but they also like to wake up early, shave and not smell like booze at committee meetings. The Giuliani people are secular and more openly lecherous. So they tend to drink a bit harder and stay out closer to 1 a.m. The Ron Paul people party past 1 a.m., but not much. And they shave but they don’t showboat.

The ones who stay out the latest and come back the drunkest, I notice, are the Huckabee folks, the party’s rural conservatives. They believe in Jesus, in the hard-bitten way of the true alcoholic. If they ever sober up, it’ll be by the grace of the Lord; and if they intend to stay on the sauce and continue living, then they’ll really need His loving kindness. If you intend to be drinking heavily until closing time — 4 a.m. in the Twin Cities during the RNC — you had better walk home with Jesus.

I can’t place true McCainites on the alcohol-ideology matrix. I think they were all asleep by 9:30 p.m.” (Salon)