Here is the video of the Feb. 1, 2025, legislative forum. It says a lot about our state and our legislators.

Here

Here

Here is one way to understand it.

I wrote my first opinion column when I was in high school, fifty years ago. Guest columns have been part of my career from collegiate days at Penn State, Syracuse, and Ohio University to teaching jobs in Cincinnati, Texas, and Knoxville, Tennessee.

Along the way I’ve picked up several honors for column writing, including two prestigious Sigma Delta Chi awards. I write this not to brag, but to establish credentials for evaluating the state of opinion writing.

It’s not good. The practitioners at some of our largest newspapers are as good as ever, but the bench of opinion writers at other publications dwindles daily. Newspaper chains have dropped many paid local columnists—relying instead on handout material and letting it linger on the front directory pages of news sites for days or even weeks.

You may have heard that last month Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson made her Broadway debut in a specially created one-night-only walk-on role in the jukebox musical & Juliet.
I have it on good authority that another Supreme Court judicial musical is in the works. It borrows very heavily from Evita, and is called Alito.
It culminates with the extremist right-wing jurist Samuel Alito singing as follows:

Don't cry for me, Federalist Society
The truth is, I do Trump’s bidding
These are my wild days, my mad existence
I take his phone calls
And fly my freak flags

Don't cry for me, Tangerine Man
The truth is, I always help you
These are my wild days, my mad existence
Make me Chief Justice
Not that wimp Roberts

Don't cry for me, pregnant women
The truth is, I took your rights, gals
These are my wild days, my mad existence
I need protection
Please keep your distance

In early 1981, just months into the new Reagan Administration, I published a guest column in the Daily Orange, the Syracuse University student paper. Here is a condensed and updated version of JC and the Plains Blues Band.

It was cold and rainy when I slipped into the Eldorado Cafe. The waitress asked if I was staying for the stage show. A small platform sat in one corner. Shortly after I finished the blue plate special, the band came out.

"Hi, I'm Jimmy," said the lead singer, flashing a toothy grin and pressing the microphone stand close to his frayed cardigan. "And we are the Plains Blues Band. Jody on tenor sax. Bad Bert on drums, and Ham on spoons and guitar."

The band struck up a blues riff and Jimmy went straight to work, his blue eyes staring at the audience as he crooned.

"I told you I loved you baby, but you took me far too seriously. Yes, I told you I loved you baby, but you dumped me for expediency. Now when things get bad baby, don't look to me for sympathy."

The crowd swayed and clapped, sometimes joining in on the chorus as he sang blues standards like Stand by Me, Hoochie Coochie Man, The Sky is Crying, and Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out. He did an original number Won't Someone Pass the SALT?

Then, just as quickly as he took to the stage, JC was gone. I heard some rumors he was busy building homes, eradicating guinea worms, and supervising elections. I suppose that's good, but that night of imagined music sticks with me. God rest good servant, Jimmy Carter.

I thought some of you might enjoy my Christmas column in the Tennessee Lookout.

Humbug

For those who can get beyond the paywall, I have this KNS column.

Trump Bashing is Patriotic

Congressman Tim Burchett's recent event where George Santos played Santa (no, I can't make up this stuff), indirectly reminded me of a Christmas gift I am making available to all. My book, The Professor on the (Online) Campaign Trail, is a free download. Share the epub or pdf with friends.

Link to book

The book helps answer these questions:
* Why did Tommy Jones' face turn purple?
* How did my campaign get more TV news attention in Bulgaria than on two Knoxville stations?
* How does one campaign joyously?

These matters once were limited to awkward moments at Tennessee Thanksgiving tables, but the explosion of social media (and lies perpetuated via those platforms) means that every day is Thanksgiving in terms of encountering a distant right-wing family member at your Tennessee table spouting Donald Trump cultist nonsense. The ubiquity of the form also means we can have awkward and possible tense exchanges with complete strangers. This problem only has been exacerbated recently as Trump devotees take to all forms of media to bloviate about his recent win, securing the greater share of popular votes for the first time and a second term in the presidency.

I generally fall into the camp relying on the advice attributed to George Bernard Shaw, “Never wrestle with pigs. You both get dirty and the pig likes it.” I understand the impulse, however, to not let inaccurate (verging on insane) comments go unanswered. So let me offer some descriptive advice about how these exchanges typically proceed. Remember that fact-driven messages have little appeal to Trump-oriented relatives who gleefully voted for Tennessee’s senior U.S. Sen. Marsha Blackburn. Some likely believe that the moon landing was faked, but televised wrestling extravaganzas are real.

Well, we don't really have Front Page Follies anymore, so I thought I'd share this old Frank Sinatra ditty updated for modern political fund raising.

In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the texts
And never, ever think of counting tweets
When a desperate campaign is calling
We can win if only you give
In the wee small hours of the morning
That's the time you hate these most of all

From today's Knoxville News Sentinel at 8:45am, in a profile of the U.S. Senate race in Tennessee:

"Johnson, 62, is a current member of the U.S. House of Representatives and has been representing part of Knoxville in the House since 2012."

I tried it but apparently she did it!

Two major newspapers, the Los Angeles Times and Washington Post, recently were forced by their owners not to publish already-drafted endorsements of Kamala Harris for president. If you were to put this news to some of my students, at least some would respond: Wait, there still are newspapers? They segregate news and opinion? They endorse?

News has changed so much in the past few decades, so the question is not the effect of newspaper endorsements. They never were that influential; most research suggested something less than a percentage point difference, mostly in bottom-of-the-ballot races or propositions. They can be more influential when a surprise endorsement (eg. conservative paper endorses liberal candidate) pops up in heavy rotation television and social media ads.

The notable worry is what these yanked endorsements tell us about the fading vitality and independence of news organizations.

As we rapidly tumble toward the 2024 election, I thought it might be best to frame the presidential choice in terms of two figures who did not live to see the 21st century but who are key to understanding Donald Trump’s approach to life, and Kamala Harris’ approach to democracy. They respectively are the malicious lawyer Roy Cohn, and the anti-blacklisting hero John Henry Faulk.

The Supreme Court begins a new term, and resumes its trashing of American legal traditions, the first Monday in October. That should remind us of the stakes in the upcoming election, but it’s also a time to recall how we got to our Clarence Thomas problem. He has been a Supreme Court justice for nearly 33 years, longer than the two dozen years of service from the man he was nominated to replace, Thurgood Marshall. The late justice Marshall was a pillar of judicial integrity, a champion for civil rights, and an accomplished jurist. Thomas does not measure up on those criteria—and over time has become what many of us feared at the time of his nomination, a bitter advocate for ill-informed retrograde policies and an embarrassment to the court.

The Supreme Court session has just ended with very bad decisions that endanger law, common sense, democracy, the republic itself, and faith in the Court and the rule of law.

There were several bad decisions, but three stand out:

* The Court overruled 40 years of precedent that courts should defer to administrative expertise when specific interpretations of murky law are needed. Polluters, monopolists, and other nefarious interests had been pushing for this change. Justice Gorsuch in a related opinion accidentally demonstrated how ill-prepared courts are for this new role by several times confusing nitrogen oxide (smog) with nitrous oxide (laughing gas).

* The Court decided a bribe is not a bribe if it is given after the official action sought, only before. So if mega-corporation gives a "gratuity" to a mayor for a new policy, or a legislator with a wink and a nod about a vote, or even a judge for a favorable ruling, no problem. Perhaps some of our Supreme Court "justices" already are on their way to luxurious summer vacations thanks to benefactor gratuities.

* Three days before we celebrate our declaring independence from a king, the Court effectively gave monarchical powers to presidents--immunity for any broadly defined extension of their official powers even if done clearly as a criminal act. No previous presidents have been extended this nonsensical claim, and none has needed it so badly as Donald Trump. The three justices appointed by him did not recuse, neither did the two justices whose spouses took acts in support of insurrectionists who attacked our Capitol.

The Chief Justice wonders why public support for the Court has dropped to very low levels. It may require looking in the mirror to answer that question.

Don't cry for us, Sam Alito
The truth is, we never liked you
All through your flag days, your mad existence
You kept no promise
So keep your distance…

That's a start. Next verses would have to get into the Dobbs decision and his bizarre citations of a 13th century British jurist with some really weird ideas.

If you are looking for a summer read on your i-pad, you could download my multimedia book, The Professor on the (Online) Campaign Trail. It has text, plus photos, photo albums, videos, and audio files. It's free and available from the TRACE system and Newfound Press.

Here it is.

Earlier this month we learned that Chuck E. Cheese will be phasing out its animatronic musicians, Munch's Make Believe Band, at all but two of more than 400 locations.

They will be replaced by giant TV screens, digital dance floors, and trampoline gyms, but what is next for these performers who have been part of childhood birthday parties for decades?

I have the sad feeling that the vocalists, rodent Chuck E. Cheese and chicken Helen Henny, may be popping up at karaoke bars. Keyboardist Mr. Munch, the purple monster, seems destined for strip clubs. Italian stereotype and drummer Pasqually may find work in Italian restaurants, while hound dog guitarist Jasper Tennessee Jowls may become a studio musician in Nashville.

Newfound Press is out with my multimedia book about the 2022 campaign. It features text, photos, and lots of cool videos. Here's where you can get the free download.

Link to Trace @UT

It's Groundhog Day. What, again?