Hang on, Vermonters, it will all be over tomorrow. The primary, that is. Which means we will no longer be privy to some of the most asinine political commentary since my high school newspaper interviewed the possible prom queens. Good grief.
The entirety of the Vermont media scene – including the so-called alternative side – has been basically shrugging its collective shoulders at the five-way contest in the Democratic gubernatorial primary from the beginning. For months, the reporting on this race has been something akin to: “Yawn.” And media yawning is just as contagious as regular yawning.
Sure, a good portion of the boredom from this race is because of the super-boring-pact between the super-boring-candidates to be, well, super boring and all. But that doesn’t mean the media has to play along. In fact, it should be just the opposite: The media should be working in overdrive to try and dig for the news, facts and tidbits that could spice up this otherwise boring race.
But that’s apparently too much to ask for from the Vermont media, where “the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.” When you think of the relationship between the Vermont political elite and the media elite, think: High school. Think: Popularity contest. But with much higher stakes because most of the Vermont media types are looking for that coveted opportunity to get the hell out of the Vermont media and into the better-paying laps of those they’re covering. Chris Graff, formerly of the Vermont Press Bureau, still holds the unofficial record for media-to-corporate vaulting by landing the vice-presidency gig at National Life Insurance Corp.
Which brings me back to the boring race for governor. The race is boring because the candidates consist of a nice group of insider politicians and is being covered by an even nicer group of insider media members. And they’re all agreeing to the rules of the game: Don’t rock the boat.
Trust me, members of the Vermont media have plenty of material to make this race interesting. They just don’t want to rock the boat and risk their standing in the club. It’s a small club. In a small state. With very few alternatives for those who slip up and dare to declare that the emperor has no clothes.
This morning I heard parts of the interview that Mark Johnson did with three Vermont media leaders. They were, of course, discussing the primary, with a good bit of it dedicated to that “oh-so-hard” to cover gubernatorial race. And guess what? They all agreed! I heart Vermont, for sure.
Twice during the live radio interview, Anne Galloway of Vermont Digger made reference to insider fights amongst the candidates that were not being reported. My paraphrase of Galloway: “Publicly, the candidates have all been nice but we’ve all been privy to the back biting behind the scenes.”
And to that, I must ask: Why has it been kept behind the scenes? Why, again, does the Vermont media apparently feel a need to play along with this boredom pact between the candidates?
It’s a real shame.
But tomorrow it will be over. And then we can brace ourselves for the general election version of the same. Is anyone else getting dizzy in here?
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As for me, I will be voting in the Progressive Primary for the OBVIOUS REASONS.
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I am an American.
I am free.
And I am a slave.
— Dennis Darrah
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The new generation (via Sam Lipsyte’s “The Ask.”):
“There are no slackers anymore. Your generation murdered the dream. You guys were lazy pigs. We’re more like highly efficient pleasurebots.”
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Vermont Stories: Mom sits inside smoking marijuana cigarettes, watching the traffic go by, while her children sell corn on a table by the road.
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Vermont Stories: Marvin greets the men he knows at the general store. They know he knows, too. And so it goes. They drink coffee and nod a lot. Because agreeing is a big part of knowing in these parts.
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Vermont Stories: In walks a flatlander, and the local men go silent – staring into their over-milked coffees. It’s a thick silence. The flatlander wanders the store, searching for something familiar. He gathers his goods, pays cheerfully and nods to the silent men as the wooden-screened door slams behind him.
“You know,” says the first man to break the silence as the flatlander drives away, “he’s the fella who can’t keep his pigs in.”
“I know. I know,” they all agreed.
“And you know what?” says another. “It’s not his fence he needs to be fixing. It’s his feed. Because if they’ve got good feed they won’t be breaking no fences.”
“I know, I know,” they all agreed again.
Let that be a lesson. All of it.
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Vermont Stories: There’s been a man around here creating suspicion. Or so that’s what I’ve been told. And that makes me suspicious.
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Vermont Stories: It is true that many people drive by signs that read: Hereford for sale, and they have no idea what a Hereford is. Worse, they’re not even sure how to pronounce it. So they say it fast and with an absolutely terrible Vermont accent to cover up the near-entire wrongness of their knowledge of the word, Hereford. It’s no matter, because they have no interest in buying a Hereford. They just want to buy all the Hereford’s land.
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Just Paranoia: They soon will be able to scan your mind upon your entrance to a website, thus determining your knowledge level. The site will be instantly adapted to more fluidly communicate with your specific knowledge level.
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Straight Shooting: Somewhere along the line, America opted for convenience over quality. And we’ve been fucked ever since.
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Now, please, get out of here. I’ve got work to do.
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