Capitalism: A Love Story

It's a pretty big stretch to try and take on capitalism in an era of history when the alternative methods of organizing an economy have been so thoroughly discredited. But Michael Moore has never been one to avoid stretch goals ever since I first got to know him as an underground newspaper editor in our mutual homeland of Flint, Michigan.

Okay, so Flint wasn't exactly my homeland, though my parents did live and work there after I left home, plus I grew up, first down the road a ways, and then, up the road a ways, in very similar environments to Flint's all during my formative years.

My people were autoworkers just as his people were. Only difference: Mine were first-gen immigrants.

I liked Michael from the first because of his spirit. I'd already heard of the controversy he'd been causing back home, and it resonated with me due to my own past efforts trying to forge coalitions in the 1960s between antiwar and civil rights activists on campus with striking autoworkers and welfare Moms in and around Detroit.

Later, during a more problematic period for Michael, when he was trying to live and work here in San Francisco, I tried to help him manage the cultural transition from the Midwest to the Left Coast.

That one didn't work out at all. And, in my view, he drew all of the wrong conclusions as a result.

Then, as a fellow journalist, I also couldn't help but notice certain methodological flaws, to put it kindly, in his work. Over the years, as his career as the most successful documentary film maker in history has progressed, I often took deep issue with his work.

He cut corners I wouldn't cut, edited in ways I'm not sure were ethical, and fell back on more of a propaganda-type style than I could ever feel comfortable with, among other things.

But I share a lot of common values with Michael, and his last two documentaries, Sicko and this one, have re-opened my eyes to the true brilliance of the man. His art of connecting with the mainstream of America is truly inspiring.

This new film has an additional component: It is moving. What has happened to ordinary people in our time is criminal. There have not been many willing to stand up for the common person. Many politicians voice concern but in reality they are on the take.

Not Michael Moore.

The only question I will have for him, should we run into one another anytime soon, is why he lets Obama off the hook in this documentary. After all, the same wolves are still guarding the hen house when it comes to the Wall Street criminals he so accurately denounces, no?

That, sadly, is the key question now. Reagan, Bush Sr.(not mentioned in the film), Clinton, and Bush Jr. presided over this dismantling of an effective regulatory system over the banks, it is true.

Obama inherited it. You've done a great job of going back to FDR's final analysis of what needed to be done 60 years ago to avoid our present fate, which of course never was done, because it came perilously close to what right-wing freaks call "socialism."

Is Obama the leader who will have the guts to return to FDR's "Second Bill of Rights?" That is the question your film raises, but never in any explicit way asks nor answers.

I think that, from a journalistic and an ethical perspective, this an error, a flaw in your new film, Michael. It is also an indication of some hard work that still needs to be done.

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Central Issues

It's autumn now here in the Mission. The air is cooler, the sun has settled into a different angle that no longer blinds us in evenings from the west, and the kids are well into their school years.

This brief period with my older daughters and their sons on-hand continues, bringing a lot of creative chaos to the flat. Their friends show up as well, introducing new things to our lives.

The little kids are ecstatic, of course. My oldest son tends to find a way to show up on weekends.

The photo above is from our very first time together this calendar year. I've upgraded my Google account, so this is the first of my photos to return.

To those users who reacted with anger and disappointment at my musings of whether to continue this blog, I have definitely decided to continue writing here.

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Photos To Return Soon

So I bit the bullet and upgraded. Now I have much more storage space for the photos displayed here that so many visitors have told me they like. Whenever I'm being obscure with my intentions, which is often, or messing around with double entendres, some readers may find the photos much more useful than my purposefully provocative wordplay.

It's only a twenty-spot a year for this increased capacity, and I have to admit, I like the photos better than the words much of the time myself.

As for the idea of deleting any posts or photos, I am disinclined to do so.

If I did, that material would be lost forever. And this is a memoir-in-process.

What I need to figure out (suggestions are welcome) is how to preserve all of this work in some form less fleeting than that provided by Google servers, however robust and universal they may now appear to be.

And not by having to cut and paste all of this content onto a disk or something primitive like that. I want a cookie-cutter solution.

Google, get working on that!

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The Politics of Race

It was a day of events in the City -- Love Fest, and a bluegrass festival, for starters. It was also the rarest of days for our Weir clan -- all six of my children and all three of my grandchildren in the same place at the same time.

It was the third day of the tenth month of this year and the very first time that has happened in 2009.

Two of the kids did not feel well at various times in the day, creating concern, since this is flu season. They both got better as the day went on.

It also was clean-up day at the high school, soccer for the little girls, and a chance for me to BBQ chicken and pork ribs.

Tonight a gathering involving all of us plus various friends of all ages came together, despite the minor illnesses, the fierce winds, and my shopping malfunctions.

I've been thinking a lot about racism lately. And by racism I mean discriminatory behavior and attitudes toward black people by white people. There are plenty of other racist syndromes in this society but this one is the base for all of the rest. As a friend put it tonight: "How can we point to a founding document that defines black people as property and that assigned them 3/5ths the value of a white person?"

Strict constructionists and conservatives of many stripes do not necessarily have a problem with that part of the Constitution, I have concluded. What we as Americans in the 21st Century ought to do is denounce all of the crap that our "Founding Fathers" believed, keep only what is useful and hold up the rest to public ridicule.

Those elitists were hardly the know-all, be-all wise men so celebrated by the political rhetoric employed by all government leaders to this day. They had some extraordinary men among them, it is true, and they established some revolutionary progress in the structure of government.

But they also institutionalized racism and set this society on a collision course with decency, equality, and fairness. We've been at war with ourselves ever since, and racism of the kind discussed here will be with us far into the future.

It is residual racism that fuels the "birthers," "truthers," and other extremists of the Christian right. These people are the most dangerous people in the world -- far more than al-Qaeda, to cite another despicable movement.

The American right wing is more dangerous because it has resources and it numbers and it thrives on hate. It is determined to disrupt the Obama Presidency, not based on ideas or ideals but simply because he is black.

They will never admit this, but I am making the accusation. I've watched and listened closely enough to comprehend that what they are seeking is the overthrow of an elected President by any means possible, including violence.

Fortunately, the great majority of them are soft, fat wimps without the courage to do anything of significance, let alone undertake the heinous actions implied by their words.

They are cowards.

So in all likelihood, their flatulent spouting of hate will die away as it becomes ever more clear they have no place in leadership in this society going forward. They and their bitterness will go to their graves, but racism, even then, will still be with us.

When the evils of the past are so great, and so deeply ingrained, there is no possible way to transcend them until many more generations have come and gone. I had wished I would see a better day in my lifetime, and in some way I have, with the election of the brightest President in history.

But so much more remains to be done, and it is a long, long way from here to where we need to get to.

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Capacity Exceeded

I've posted so many photos to my blogs that Google won't allow me any more free storage space. I'm going to have to purchase more space to keep showing photos in the future.

This has been a luxury I didn't fully appreciate until it went away. There were photos I would have put up last night & tonight, but they'll have to wait until I fork over some money to the richest company in the world.

Don't get me wrong; I don't resent the limitation. Server space is expensive, and nothing of value is free. It's just that so much of the blogging experience is free (Blogger hasn't charged for having too many words -- yet) that one forgets that unless this can be built into a business, it will eventually become a cost center.

I've been struggling with AdSense trying to make this an ad-supported space, but I currently make around twenty cents off of each one of these posts. If you wonder why print journalists have struggled to survive in online media, it's because if this were published in print, I'd make more like $3-500 per post.

It's a new world, one that confuses us as much as it inspires us. Of course, this blog, as more of a journal, or personal exploration, is not really intended to be a money-maker.

It just would be nice, that's all.

As we approach our 1,500th post here at Hotweir, I'm reminded that I almost hung up my cleats when I reached 1,000. I'm surprised to be approaching another milestone so soon; it doesn't seem very long ago.

I'm uncertain about the future of this blog, frankly. I love posting here, but the audience is fairly small (though much larger than in the old days) and I never settle into a pattern with the content.

It's personal but not very revealing. It's political but not doctrinaire. It's about family but only at a high level. The writing is not very emotional because I am not in a mood to go there these days.

It is not about business or my profession because I write about that stuff elsewhere. It just is what it is, and I have no idea whether it is serving a useful purpose for anyone other than me.

I'll commit to getting to 1,500 and then reconsider. That should be in about a week...

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Losing Battles, Winning Wars

The kids played hard but lost another difficult game today. Their record is now 4-3-1.

Meanwhile, it was Back to School Night in San Francisco.



This school is officially the most diverse in San Francisco, a very diverse city. It is a school with a tough background, but one that over the past few years, has transformed itself into what is now the most requested high school in town.



Like every freshman parent, I was a bit disoriented about where to go, what to do, and what the place is really about.

But my initial impressions are extremely positive. My young athlete-scholar is doing well in his classes; his teachers seem to like him and think he is trying hard.

That's all I ever ask for -- trying hard. The results are another matter. You don't always get an "A" and you don't always get a "W."

But there soon will be another test or another game. And at his age, that is all that matters.

At my age, what matters is that I was here today, not across the country. If Woody Allen is right, and what matters most is showing up, I want to show up for my kids -- at games, at school, and anywhere else that matters to them.

It's the least a parent can do, and yet so many don't. They have their reasons -- jobs, business trips, other commitments.

I understand. It happens to me too. But the beauty of a second time around (two families separated by 13 years) is you get to choose the "show up" button a bit more frequently, because by my age, fewer people have a piece of you.

So, I pick up my kids at school, I sit in the stands at soccer games, I pick organic tomatoes in my garden for my one-year-old grandson, who inexplicably loves tomatoes.

Actually, he loves all food, and I'm convinced he will be a giant some day.

With my two grown daughters, one son-in-law (the other is at work in Kenya), three grandsons, and my three little children plus various friends, this flat is a hub of activity this month.

Good times...

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