BordoLines Election Watch Week 3

The impeccable political instincts of Kamala Harris, Tim Walz as Staffordshire Terrier, The problem with political labels, and kudos to Lawrence O’Donnell.

Kamala’s Smart Rally Moves of the Week

Kamala Harris’ instincts are impeccable. And she keeps it fresh. This was the first time that any speaker reminded protestors and the audience that threatening to not vote Democratic meant, in effect, voting for Donald Trump. It should be a “duh,” right? You want a POTUS who will care about Palestinian women and children? Just keep it up. Donald Trump has shown such great compassion for the Gaza cause, right? Or maybe be smarter and wait until Kamala is actually the one making decisions and do your chanting then?

This disruption was particularly irritating, because the group (from “Uncommitted”—a truly absurd position to take in this election) had met with Harris and Walz before the rally, and she’d listened respectfully and promised to consider what they’d had to say. And then they went ahead and behaved like spoiled children throwing a tantrum in the candy aisle. Kamala, who is a woman who doesn’t respond well to threats in any case, scolded them appropriately.

My note on that moment attracted dozens of new subscribers (WELCOME!) and lots of great comments. Here’s a small sample:

First the extended stare, then the pissed-off look-away, with a final direct stare to say “we’re done now.” They were schooled. It brought back the memory of Nancy Pelosi standing behind Trump in a SOTU, extending her arms in the exaggerated clap that her daughter recognized instantly, having been on the receiving end as a child. Women have an impressive array of nonverbals that are unambiguous speech.

Yeah, the second I saw that look, my inner child went, “uh oh!” 😨

I showed the clip to my 20 year-old grandson, and after he saw “The Stinkeye” he said “Okay, I’m going to go clean my room now.”

Love this. Mama is the first heartbeat a child hears and feels. Time to claim the power of this first relationship. How is it that this has gotten owned by the state since way too long ago…

What a classic Black mom look. Wonder if her step kids have seen it 😹?

As a retired teacher, I too had that stare when a student acted up for attention or to distract me from my job of teaching. It works. That is the look of authority. And it certainly is more powerful than Orangeman’s smirk.

Oh yeah!!! The “teacher” look says it all. Aka “are you shitting me? Or do you think I’m as stupid as you are?” Works every time and I bet Tim knows how to do it too!

It was the head tilt that really sent me. Loved the entire response. Like, look, protesting is all fine and good, but we can’t have chaos all the time and you’re just keeping thousands of people from hearing what they came for.

From a lawyer: I would call it the prosecutor stare. Her fortitude was fired in the same kiln as mine. It takes a certain kind of aggressive nature to stand up in a court room, look a criminal in the face and successfully lock them up. She has that and it's awesome. She's made of platinum. She won't wilt under pressure and her mind has been trained to analyze facts and then go forward. Trump should be very afraid as well as Putin and the rest of those bastards. I can guarantee you, because I am cut from that same bolt of cloth, there is no way Trump could stalk her without consequence. She is the real deal. She was born for this moment in history.

If Maya Rudolph doesn't use this when she plays Kamala on SNL this fall, I will be very disappointed.

During a later rally, sensing that a more substantive response was going to be needed, she jettisoned the look and “spoke to the topic”:

“We’re here to fight for democracy which includes respecting the voices that I think we are hearing over there. Let me just speak to that for a moment and then I’m going to get back to the business in hand. So let me say I have been clear: Now is the time to get a ceasefire deal and get the hostage deal done. Now is the time and the president and I are working around the clock every day to get that ceasefire done and bring the hostages home. So I respect your voices but we are here now to talk about this race in 2024.”

Kamala’s response was perfectly calibrated, both discursively and emotionally. As a fighter for democracy, she respects the protestor’s “voices”—and so, will take “a moment” for a sidebar to “speak” to their concerns. But let’s not forget what the “business at hand” actually is. What she then went on to make “clear” did not differ in the slightest from Biden’s agenda. Yet, the audience erupted in thunderous applause. It was as though she had actually announced a ceasefire. And then, she reminded us again that the main topic of the evening was not the war in the Middle East but “this race.” And let’s get back to business.

Kamala Harris may be the greatest politician of my lifetime (which goes alarmingly far back.) She demonstrated her smarts as well in her damping down of audience chants of “Lock Him Up!”

The chants came organically, as Kamala had just finished her stump speech recitation of the crimes she’s prosecuted and Trump has committed. But no way was Kamala going to allow her supporters to identify themselves in any way with that signature MAGA attack (first on Hillary, then on both Hunter and Joe—“the Biden crime family.”) It carried with it the stink of unjust accusation, for one thing. And it substituted respect for the law with a vengeful crowd taking things in its own hands. It resonated with the lyncher’s cries of “hang him up!” And, more pragmatically:

Any comments or signs of approval she makes could further delay or complicate the pending federal criminal charges Trump is facing. That includes the Jan. 6 and 2020 election interference case brought by special counsel Jack Smith.

If Harris wins the election in November, Trump’s Jan. 6 case will continue to move toward trial. As sitting vice president in the administration that appointed the attorney general with oversight of the case, any comments Harris makes related to the trial could be fodder for the former president’s lawyers to argue in court that her comments interfered with Trump’s due process rights. That includes any suggestion that locking up Trump would be an explicit goal (as Trump repeatedly said about Hillary Clinton during the 2016 campaign).

A close read of Harris’ references — to predators who abuse women, to fraudsters who ripped off consumers, and to cheaters who broke the rules for their own gain — appear to be nods to other civil or criminal cases Trump has faced, not the Jan. 6 case he is currently facing….Harris, who herself came within feet of a pipe bomb that had been left at the Democratic National Committee headquarters on the eve of Jan. 6, 2021, will face a complex task at any debates when it comes to discussions of the Capitol attack and Trump’s efforts to stay in office after his 2020 loss.¹

….“Her campaign position is complicated by the fact that she’s a member of the administration, the same way that it would have been complicated for” President Joe Biden, said Bill Shipley, a former federal prosecutor who now represents numerous Jan. 6 defendants. Add on top of that, noted Shipley, Harris herself is a lawyer, which would create possible ethical issues if she spoke about pending cases.

There are Justice Department rules about communicating with the media about ongoing cases, and there’s a DOJ tradition of seeking to speak within the “four corners,” meaning information about ongoing cases comes from court filings, not through media pronouncements. While those rules are binding only on the Justice Department, part of Harris’ pitch to voters is that she would respect the lines between the Justice Department and the White House that have existed for decades, since the Watergate scandal.

Kamala Picks A Staffordshire Terrier For Veep

In my Election Watch Week 2, I wrote that I’d be happy with any of the then-remaining candidates for Vice-President. But actually, I knew very little about Tim Walz beyond the fact that he was said to be the “progressive’s” darling. And it was only after the news broke about Walz that I realized how much I’d actually wanted Josh Shapiro to be picked. I’d researched Shapiro and was impressed by him and what he would bring to the ticket. I was also disgusted by the way the “left” (I’m sorry, you’re never going to see me write “left” or “progressive” without scare quotes, because I consider myself both but don’t identify with what they have come to be) was campaigning against him, misrepresenting his views when it served their purposes, foraging for any past scandals they could find, and leaking anti-Semitic buzzwords. (See last week’s stack for my elaboration.)

I’m still furious about the trashing of Shapiro. Don’t come on my Facebook page slinging disinformation about him unless you’re ready to be told off and unfriended.

That said:

After I heard Shapiro speak at Kamala’s rally in Philadelphia I realized she’d probably made the right choice. Shapiro was breathtaking, dazzling, heart-pounding in his opening speech—with a presence that emanated “President” (not “Vice”.) Shapiro beside Kamala on the campaign trail would be a double-dose of dynamism, “organic” power, and brilliance with words. Prosecutors, you know. And each of them having polished their skills in a world that wasn’t the friendliest to a Black woman or a Jew. A world in which just being good at the job wasn’t enough. You had to be tougher, smarter, more resilient, more disarming. Side-by-side, their personal power might have been too much. “Balance” isn’t only about geography or gender or race, it’s also about style. Especially in our optics-dominated culture. Speeches would matter. Visual presentation would matter. The ineffable je ne sais quoi would matter.

Maybe, some day—frankly hard to imagine, in the current climate—Josh Shapiro may be POTUS. But as Kamala Harris’s VEEP, Walz is a more winning choice. Actually, he’s kind of an inspired choice, one in which the chemistry of a particular relationship (which appears to have been Kamala’s chief criterion) and that mysterious “balance” of personality, experience, style, and background appear to be working hand-in-hand.

Walz is a Pit Bull. I know—that word! You’re likely imagining mean, growling rippers of flesh. But—as I devoted a stack to months ago—that reputation as breed-specific (as opposed to factors like training and environment) is undeserved. I’m not going to go through my arguments here (read my stack if you’re interested.) So why am I invoking the breed in connection with our cuddly, homespun VP-to-be?

Among the canine members of our family are a Pit Bull Mix (a rescue named Piper) and an American Staffordshire Terrier named Scout (a “staffie,” as lovers of the breed call them.) They are the most affectionate, loyal, funny, joyful and huggable doggies I’ve lived with. The kind of dogs who after a trying day will know just what I need. Kisses, a belly that yields when the world won’t—or maybe just a wagging tail and voiceless sympathy. They’re intuitive, goofy and loaded with energy—Scout is, anyway; Piper is getting up there—and above all else, they are there for me. ²

Believe it or not, for some time in America, the PB was associated with the pluck, courage, and tenacity of the “average working-class Joe.” As such the PB was a frequent mascot for sports teams and soldiers, “a symbol of the resilience of the American people,” and a popular family dog for working-class families who couldn’t afford fancy pedigreed dogs. (After Hurricane Katrina, the flooded New Orleans streets were full of Pit Bulls, paddling through the water and stranded on rooftops with their owners, many of whom refused to be rescued without their dogs.)³

I first saw a picture of our pit bull mix Piper on a website listing rescue dogs for adoption. At that time, she was called “Susie Q”—despite which my daughter immediately singled her out. “A pit bull?” I questioned. “YES,” Cassie answered emphatically. When “Susie Q” was led from her cage to the backyard of the shelter, she immediately bounded over to us, tail wagging and butt wiggling, ran to Edward and sat down as if awaiting instruction. “I know you’re thinking about taking me home,” she seemed to be saying, “just tell me what to do next, and I’m yours.”

Tim Walz seems to have communicated the same to Kamala Harris. The data showed that she could win the election with any of the three finalists. So in the end, it came down to a feeling of “connection” and Walz’s demonstrated understanding of the supportive role of the Vice-President. (“I know you’re thinking of taking me home. Just tell me what to do and I’m yours.”) And, although I haven’t seen it mentioned in any of the descriptions of the selection process, he embodies the “joyful warrior” that Kamala was for those of us who fell in love with her during the 2019 primary. That synergy of joy has become a hallmark of their campaign, and a major reason for the wild enthusiasm of the crowds at their rallies:

“The one thing I will not forgive them for is they try to steal the joy from this country,” Walz said about the GOP at their Detroit rally “But you know what? Our next president brings the joy. She emanates the joy.”

Tim Walz has variously been described by journalists as “comfort food,” “a walking bear hug,” and “Mac and Cheese and a trip to the hardware store” (my doggies’ idea of heaven, by the way.) After the past nine years, we all could use some comfort food, and it will be especially helpful to Kamala Harris. A hug and a bowl of mac and cheese—and a VP to lend her some joy when she’s exhausted by the fight.

Kamala Harris and Tim Walz: Taking Us Beyond Labels

Ever since 2015, when Bernie Sanders declared that Hillary Clinton wasn’t a “true progressive,” I’ve argued that the term “progressive” is more a political badge than a useful indication of policy. Was it “progressive” for Sanders to argue that the issue of reproductive choice was a “distraction” and that Planned Parenthood is an “establishment” organization? It was infuriating (and wrong and destructive) for a woman to be defined by a white guy whose concept of “true progressive” (not to mention “working class issues”) was so gender-biased.

We’re past that now. Bernie has been schooled. But the term “progressive” remains a problem. That seems especially clear now. If Tim Walz and Rashida Tlaib are both “progressives,” the term has absolutely outlived its usefulness, except as a badge of honor for some and a weapon to be deployed by others.

It’s always a bad sign when the Right and the Left agree. Within minutes of news breaking that Walz was Harris’s choice, the Trump campaign issued a statement saying that, by selecting Walz, Harris “bent the knee” to the left. Joseph Geevarghese, executive director of “Our Revolution” pretty much agrees—he said in a statement that Walz’s selection was “a clear indication that the Harris campaign is listening to the voices of progressives across the country.”

The mainstream media has echoed the idea:

“Walz has pushed a strikingly progressive agenda, from guaranteed abortion rights to universal free meals for schoolchildren.”

“The Walz selection is being seen, predominantly, as a big victory for progressives—and for good reason. As the New Republic’s Grace Segers noted his gubernatorial resume includes abortion protections, paid family and medical leave, a new child tax credit for low income parents, affordable housing, legalized recreational marijuana, universal school meals, and more.”

Talk about extreme. Talk about the “radical left” in ascendancy!

Progressive. It’s a term with a long, twisty history. In the nineteenth century, it was associated with those who argued for the moral “cleansing” of the nation. A century ago, both racist Southern Democrats and the founders of the NAACP claimed it for their purposes. The Communist Party has described itself as “progressive.” For Sanders supporters during his contest with Hillary Clinton, however, “progressive” stopped being an ill-defined, historically malleable label, and became a magical talisman for those who considered themselves “anti-establishment.” When he denied that badge of honor to Clinton he wasn’t distinguishing his agenda from hers (their positions on most issues were, in reality, pretty similar), he was excluding her from the company of the good and pure. (Nowadays, the test of inclusion seems to be whether or not one is “pro-Palestine,” a designation that’s as fuzzy as “progressive” itself, and sometimes perversely includes those who celebrate Hamas.)

After Bernie turned “establishment” into a bad smell and despite all the talk of needing to “unify” the party, the branding of Democrats into “progressive” and “establishment” (or more often, “centrist”—which is only slightly less smelly) has come to dominate how candidates are identified.

I think it’s time to seriously ask ourselves: just what good is this relic of a disastrous election doing? Not only doesn’t it accurately represent the diversity among Democrats, but it feeds the Right the meat it loves to chomp on—which then gets served up to the mainstream media.

Speaking of the mainstream media:

A plug for Lawrence O’Donnell, who is the ONLY broadcaster to actually—gasp—criticize the network coverage of the news. And he’s doing it now in stronger terms than I’ve ever heard him use. Bravo Lawrence!! They better not fire him. (Click on

Marlon Weems

’ note to get a short clip from O’Donnell’s show)

1. She is also likely to avoid much discussion of Trump’s handling of classified documents. While a Trump-appointed federal judge dismissed a federal case involving his alleged mishandling of classified documents, the Justice Department has appealed and the case could ultimately survive.

2. Pit Bull families are full of stories about their dog’s intuitively caretaking nature. My own favorite story is about Piper. Whenever I had my writing class over my house, all my dogs would hang around, hoping for dropped bits of pita bread and empty laps. In one such class, the students were reading aloud from their memoirs. There were several stories of abuse—actually many, far, far too many—but most of the students offered them without visible emotion. One student, however, perched on an armchair way across the room from Piper, who was semi-dozing in front of the fireplace, had started to tremble while reading her story. It was barely noticeable, but Piper’s head shot up, her attention suddenly focused. Then, seconds before my student’s tears actually started to flow, that sweet dog had galloped across several bodies sitting on the floor (leaving bruises I’m sure) and jumped up the arm of the chair to lick my student’s face. What had she sensed from way across the room? And why did she feel her services were needed? (My other dogs were oblivious, their attention riveted on the food that had been jarred loose from paper plates during Piper’s run.)

3. I discuss how that changed in my stack: