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My thong nightmare


I have noticed recently the decline of the thong. It emerged in my high school about three years ago. I cannot forget the first one I saw. A red, lacy number, not just peeking, more like gaping, out of the back of one of my star student’s jeans. I will call this girl Maxine to protect her “innocence.” Maxine studied fastidiously and consistently received As on her chemistry tests and quizzes. I could always count on her to be the top grade earner in my classes. Then, one day, I saw the thong. I was shocked. Maxine was so modest in every other way. She was shy, and she never bragged about her intelligence, success, and popularity. Unlike other girls, she never exposed her décolletage to the extent that to look at her chest was like looking down the grand canyon. I thought she would be so embarrassed if I told her, but I had to — it was part of the job. I found a moment when the rest of the class was engrossed in their assigned problems. I whispered next to her ear, “Maxine, your underwear is showing!” She looked at me, shrugged, and said, “Oh. Oh, well.” She turned around and went back to work, making no move to cover herself. I gave up the whispering, clearly more embarrassed than she, and said, “Pull up your pants, Maxine.” She did but still didn’t seem to care if anyone caught her in the act of adjusting her undergarments.

After the Maxine incident, I started to notice them everywhere. I couldn’t turn around without being faced with cotton, satin, patterned, plain, even one with a smiley face looking up at me as if to say, “That’s right, I’m on display.”

Many teenage girls today lack the modesty of girls of the near past. I have to blame the media on this one. I am generally loathe to pin it all on TV, movies, and celebrities, but really it has become quite acceptable to expose what would make many women blush.

Fortunately, the preppy fashion trend is finally trickling down to us here in the Midwest. I am seeing higher-wasted pants and more demure polo shirts. I love it. In fact, I haven’t seen a thong in at least a week. A new, disturbing trend, however, has appeared now in the other sex. It’s become so prevalent that our principal actually made an announcement stating an amendment to the dress code: boys may not wear girls pants! Yes teenage boys are now wearing girl’s skinny jeans. They don’t fit properly around the hips, so they end up halfway down their butts. Now the boys are exposing their underwear. At least they wear boxers.

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Mrs. Cleaver and the fountain of youth


I do worry about our society’s addiction to the fountain of youth and am concerned that my two daughters will fall victim to that myth. Every television show, commercial, movie, and magazine ad depicts Utopian models of women. The average teenage girl isn’t going to see the army of stylists, hairdressers, and makeup artists that arranged that “natural look.” They are blissfully unaware that these photos are retouched by photographers and that there are lighting experts schooled in all the deceptive tricks of the trade.

This is not to say that I am not vain and narcissistic. I find myself studying ads for plastic surgeons and wondering if I should take this old girl in for a tune-up. As I watch my breasts go south for the winter, I sometimes wistfully wish there was a remedy for gravity — sooner or later everything falls victim to it. Gravity is akin to death, taxes, and prison — it’s inevitable and incurable. Then I shake it off and am once again grateful for Victoria’s Secret’s Miracle Bras (aptly named I must say). Coming to my senses, resisting plastic surgery’s siren song, I do a reality check of all my blessings (which are many). My mom always says she’d “go back for the body but not for the head.” I don’t agree. It’s so easy to try and erase time’s handiwork. I think it’s much more important to work on the interior; the exterior is only so much window dressing.

How many of us have given in and spent an exorbitant amount of money on a new outfit, hoping against hope that it will give us the ability to conquer the world (not too mention make us look ten pounds thinner and ten years younger)? It’s our belief in ourselves that gives us the necessary self-confidence to achieve our dreams, not a brand new pair of Jimmy Choo shoes.

When we are born, we have the face of an angel; when we die, however, we have the face we earned. What are these Hollywood plastic surgery survivors going to do when they meet St. Peter at the pearly gates? Their faces have no expression, no individuality, and no life. They bear a rather unfortunate resemblance to those cardboard cutouts at Hollywood Video.

What message are we sending our daughters by our tacit approval of this behavior? I’m not surprised that eating disorders plague today’s young girls and that many of them are opting for surgical intervention before they are mature enough to make that choice. I too was that young, spending a large portion of my life looking for a quick fix only to find that I had those solutions inside me all along. That journey seems to have become a rite of passage for all women.

In life, it really isn’t the destination that molds you; it’s the little things that happen along that serpentine path. Those lines on my face are literally a map of my life. I have learned to love myself, warts and all. I hope my two daughters come to that realization without too much heartache or drama.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned on my quest is that life is too short and time is much too precious to waste on the superficial. But I must confess I do still love a good pair of Jimmy Choo shoes. I occasionally allow temptation to win (especially if it involves 6-inch stiletto heels and sensual Italian leather).

I like that woman I see in the mirror, lines and all. These are hard-earned and I would not trade them for the world. Outsiders think the lines are from sorrow and despair (because of that whole prison/convicted felon thing). Others know the truth. My family and friends see a woman quick to laugh and tell a joke, that has opinions and some admittedly bizarre stories to tell.

In my opinion, my face has become a barometer which tells the story of a woman who has been through tragedy with grace and fortitude. To me, those lines equal courage, wisdom and, most of all, humor. This is my daughters' legacy. Don’t take so long to fall in love with yourself. Believe me — I know from experience — it’s worth it.

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Deadlier of the species


I’ll admit to being very jaundiced about that particular subject. A prison term will do that. As an inmate, I was an eyewitness to so many concrete examples of violent behavior that cynicism has become my constant companion. There were mass beatings, torture, stabbings, and rapes, just to name a few things. There is certain stillness in a room before a fight breaks out. It’s almost as if the oxygen is sucked out of the room and time virtually stands still. In the dining hall one evening, an inmate threw homemade acid on someone who had made critical comments about her girlfriend. Unfortunately, that woman will be disfigured for life and forever damaged for some idle gossip.

There were the zombie inmates; at least that’s what I called them. I made the mistake of looking one of them in the eye. “Now I know what they mean by "soul-less." I shuddered as if someone walked across my grave. Literally, there was nothing human about those zombie inmates; the humanity was seared out of them long ago. If one met such a person on the street, most of us would cross to the other side, feeling a vague nameless foreboding; our fight-or-flight instinct would kick in immediately.

I am no longer surprised when I see violent women depicted in the media. Meeting these women in person is sobering. They kill, maim, and abuse their children, but they are always innocent, blaming a spouse, drugs, or an abusive background. One woman I met shot her husband 25 times in the face with a shotgun, tried to get acquitted, and repeatedly appealed her conviction because of unproven allegations of spousal abuse, which I feel is the modern-day equivalent of the “Twinkie” defense. The court rightfully decided that the re-loading of the shotgun indicated some sort of intent and, as far as I know, she‘s still there still exhibiting no remorse.

There are many such stories. One of my old roommates attempted to kill her husband by putting Drain-O in his soda can. Obviously, she wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box because the Drain-O melted the tin can. She tried to blame her actions on being abused also. It turns out that she was angry because the poor man cut off her access to his accounts because she was spending all of their money on methamphetamine. Again, no remorse for almost killing the poor man, not to mention the psychological damage she caused their children.

It is unfortunate that the domestic violence defense is so abused because there are many women who suffer daily from this epidemic, living almost a concentration camp existence. The prison term opened my eyes as there are many who would take something that has validity and twist it to suit their own advantage.

The soldier mentioned in my first paragraph also had “zombie” eyes as she turned her grinning face to the camera leaning over some tortured soul’s corpse and, even after being punished, still exhibits no remorse.

Video games, television, rap music, advertising has all contributed to our becoming the deadlier of the species. There is a new Quentin Tarantino movie being advertised that shows a comely woman in a short skirt with a machine gun for a leg. Typical movie — random violence, carnage, and death ensue; violence for violence's sake. I know I don’t want my children to see that garbage.

I spent almost two years of my life in a dog-eat-dog environment. I am saddened at my own battle with desensitization and am in constant mourning for my lost innocence. I hope one day to lose “my prison face” and regain my Pollyanna attitude.

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Daycare: it’s more than just chatter


 

This morning's broadcast of the Today Show focused on a recently released study regarding the effects of daycare attendance on children's later behavior.  According to the study, which is documented in the current issue of Child Development, there is a correlation between the amount of time a child spent in daycare and the same child's behavior in sixth grade.  As reported by sixth-grade teachers, the children who spent more time in center-based child care were more likely to display problem behaviors.  The same study also noted that children who had participated in higher quality daycare before entering kindergarten received a higher vocabulary score in the fifth grade than those children receiving lower quality care.  Conducted by the National Institutes of Health, the study involving these 1,364 children, who have been tracked since birth, is the largest study of child care and development carried out in the United States.

In the tradition of wrapping up everything nice and neat with a bow, the Today Show's discussion of the topic can be summed up in a sound bite: parents choose your child care carefully.  While it is unrealistic to expect a thorough discussion of the study to be fitted into a five-minute segment, at least the information shared should avoid the trite.  Today's segment on the correlation between children's behavior and language development and time spent in daycare manages to be both naïve and trite.  Twice during the discussion, Matt Lauer commented that the cost of child care was not indicative of the quality of the care provided.  The notion that cost does not translate into quality child care ignores the fact that research has upheld that one of the best predictors of quality child care is the training received by the childcare providers.  Regardless of how or where this training is received, it is a cost that is often passed on to parents.         

The point Lauer made that it is the people who care for the children that are important, rather than the dollars paid by parents, is well taken.  Yes, the people who care for children should be nurturing and loving.  They should also be well versed in the whys and hows of child development.  Why should you speak to an infant, when he can't even talk?  Why do two-year-olds want to do everything for themselves?  How do you tell a parent that you have concerns regarding her daughter's development?  Knowledge, in distinguishing high-quality from low-quality care, does not come without a price tag.  When we demand that childcare providers offer educated care, it is only reasonable for us to expect that they will want payment and benefits commensurate with their knowledge and experience.

As is standard for morning news shows, a guest speaker — in this case, child psychologist Neil Bernstein — was brought aboard to highlight points of the study.  In explaining the increased vocabulary scores by those fifth graders who attended higher quality child care before kindergarten, Bernstein attributed the "constant chatter" he assumes is found in daycare classrooms as the key contributor to these results.  In another example of assumption living up to its reputation, Bernstein overlooks the emphasis placed on language development by trained childcare providers.  It is also no accident that quality childcare programs manage to actively engage children, thus minimizing the "hitting" that Bernstein marked as red flags of low-quality care.  Training, like that offered by Dr. Becky Bailey, founder of Conscious Discipline, gives childcare providers knowledge and strategies to foster positive classroom interactions.                      

Research continues to support what we have long suspected: caring for young children in daycare centers is much more than baby-sitting.  We know what children in daycare need: childcare providers trained in appropriate child development practices.  What may be more interesting is our response.  Are we ready to make the changes needed to provide all children with quality child care?  Can we make the jump from academia to reality?  Enough with the sound bites — been there, done that.

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My opinions, which are better than yours, of course


I've never liked Katie Couric. She was mildly irritating on the Today Show. She's absolutely out of her element on CBS Nightly News. Back when the talk of a woman anchor was going around, I was rooting for Christiane Amanpour — a real journalist. Amanpour would have never opened her first newscast by announcing pictures of the new Cruise/Holmes baby — which is when I turned off Katie Couric and never went back. If Couric wanted to prove her nightly news cred, she should've had the sense to veto any and all entertainment drivel. Entertainment Tonight is after your show, sweetie.

Now, on top of poor ratings, Couric has to deal with angry viewers. Apparently her interview with John and Elizabeth Edwards did not go over well. Couric doesn't approve of their decision to still try for the White House with Elizabeth's cancer recurrence. But it's really not her business to judge how someone chooses to battle a disease, no matter how many times Katie may flaunt her colon on TV for a cause. ♦

Over at the New York Times, there's a definitive headline: "Poor Behavior is Linked to Time in Daycare." You know what that means, ladies — you get your uterus out of that workplace and back in the kitchen. It's all your career-minded fault that we have little devils running amok.

I don't have children. I have a spark of a career going. And I have mighty opinions. So how about if we take a look at how kids are dealt with rather than where. Has anyone else lately heard a parent say to a child, "we'll make a compromise"? Have you seen the child with half the control then finish out the raging fit anyway? I'm going to sound old, but back when I was a kid, there was no compromise. You did what the adult said, because you were two feet high and your brain was far less developed, which meant you had no say. I'm a spare-the-rod type — I was never hit. But I was also raised by an adult who did not compromise with a tot. ♦

Now let's look at people who are actually changing the democratic process…by making lame videos.

On Monday night, the Justice Department delivered to Congress more than 3,000 pages of emails, memos, and other records about the firing of eight U.S. attorneys. The handover came so late that many news organizations had to scramble to try to skim a few headlines from the files before late-night deadlines. According to The New York Sun:

"Despite the late hour, readers of a liberal website, tpmmuckraker.com, tackled the task with gusto. They quickly began grabbing 50-page chunks of the scanned documents from a House of Representatives Internet server, analyzing them, and excerpting them. The first post about the Department of Justice records hit the left-leaning news and commentary site at 1:04 a.m. Within half an hour, there were 50 summaries posted by readers gleaning the documents. By 4:30 a.m., more than 220 postings were up detailing various aspects of the files."

And that's how you get your hands dirty. ♦

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Political Prose

All that glitters is not gold

If you're in Chicago, you should check out the latest production of David Henry Hwang's The Golden Child.


If you're in Chicago, you should check out the latest production of David Henry Hwang's The Golden Child. This Obie Award-winning play, loosely based on the experiences of the playwright's own family in turn-of-the-century China, recounts the fateful decision of a village patriarch to turn from Chinese traditions and embrace Western, Christian ways. Seeing it reminded me of Chinua Achebe's novel Things Fall Apart, set in colonial-era Nigeria. In telling their stories of cultural change, neither work romanticizes the past or its dying traditions. In fact, certain practices — foot-binding in the Chinese context, abandoning children in the Nigerian one — come up for especially harsh criticism, put forward as immoral and destructive outgrowths of unthinking adherence to old ways. At the same time, both works describe in tragic detail the consequences of upending an age-old social order, and the price paid by all — powerful and powerless alike. The eponymous "golden child," in fact, who escapes foot-binding thanks to her father's intervention, nonetheless learns to rue her mother's words: "Daughter, you don't know what a terrible gift is freedom."

Fortunately, Hwang's play offers plentiful comedic interludes to soften its Lear-like final blow, and the strong Chicago cast succeeds in making each character believable and sympathetic — even the conniving second wife, played with delightful malevolence by InTheFray Contributor Kimberlee Soo.

The company responsible for this production, Silk Road Theatre Project, has made crosscultural understanding its mission; founded in response to the September 11 terrorist attacks, Silk Road seeks to "heal rifts through the transformative power of theatre." The choice of Hwang's play seems appropriate, speaking as it does to all-too-current events. The violent divide between tradition and modernity, order and progress, fundamentalism and reason — these conflicts continue to confront us, just as they did in an earlier time, and their resolution will likely be no kinder.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

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Feminist blogging flaws


I only discovered feminist blogs (specifically, Pandagon, Feministe, and Feministing) a year and a half ago. I've always had a feminist side, and the Bush administration only brought it closer to the surface. But, like with anything else one wishes to learn about in society, the vast amount of information, opinion, analysis, and current events was too daunting to tackle while going about a non-academic life. I settled for Planned Parenthood's updates. Then feminist bloggers came along and made it quick, accessible. It's so convenient to stop in once a day and learn, oh, this bill in the Senate will make it more difficult for a woman to… If you had more time, there were also the 2,000-word posts and links to lengthy articles. They have opened up a world of knowledge about how domestic and international laws can hinder a woman's life and what can be done about it. But once in a while, I can only roll my eyes and wonder, "Is it a slow news day?"

Last Sunday the NYT ran a story about female soldiers suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder due to the war and sexual harrassment or assault from fellow soldiers. The story was excellent. The few pictures dispersed throughout of the women were, to my eyes, plain. Zuzu of Feministe and Lindsay of Majikthise, however, see sexism, pin-up parodies, and miserable faces.

Take, for instance, this photo: NYT photo1

From Lindsay: "Why would you get a woman in jeans and a t-shirt to pose like a swimsuit model on a beach in order to illustrate a story about how she got PTSD in Iraq and went AWOL?"

Um, what if she insisted on posing that way? What if this was the best shot? What if the photo editor chose this one? Or, what if everyone involved cared more about the content of the story instead of what anyone may read into a single photo? She goes even more improbably for the next one:

NYT photo

"There's something weirdly sexualized about this image. Look at the angle of the shot. She's wearing a knee-length skirt, but she's positioned so that her bare legs and daintily flexed ankle command as much attention as her face."

There is nothing sexualized about this image. This is a tramautized woman wearing her uniform and sitting in a sparse setting. Where her hand is placed or however her ankle may be turned mean nothing.

"…it doesn't seem like [the photographer] Grannan intended to make her subjects to appear happy or comfortable in the positions she chose for them." So, when you have a story about women who  wanted to serve their country only to be raped by comrades, ignored by superiors when reporting it, then screwed by the government when they come home scarred and broken, you're supposed to have pictures of smiling, happy-looking subjects?

Zuzu chimes in: "Her gaze is almost hostile, her arms look like she didn’t know what to do with them, and her legs are pressed together in a way that suggests she’s a construction worker who’s not very comfortable wearing her dress uniform skirt."

How is this woman supposed to look comfortable? She's telling the entire world details of her ordeal? And can we pick one — either this woman's "dainty" ankle is meant to be sexy, or her entire legs evoke a utilitarian construction worker? Pin-up or laborer?

Hasn't one of the main complaints of feminism always been that people focus too much on the physical images of women instead of who they are as human beings? Sometimes sexism is just in the eye of the beholder.

Even if these photos were "sexualized," intentionally or not, that is besides the point. Cerrtain feminist bloggers are the only people who read this story and focused on the possible suggestiveness of the images.

Instead of focusing on something meaningless and opinion-based, why don't feminist bloggers concentrate on doing something about the situation? Why not start a fund for some of these women to get help? Why not promote the health center in California? Contact lawmakers about the gigantic problem of sexual assault in the military, the lack of punishment rapists receive, and the insult to injury the female soldiers endure? Is there really nothing else to be done besides blather on about how someone is posed?

Here's what this story was really about: "Taking into account the large number of women serving in dangerous conditions in Iraq and reports suggesting that women in the military bear a higher risk than civilian women of having been sexually assaulted either before or during their service, it's conceivable that this war may well generate an unfortunate new group to study — women who have experienced sexual assault and combat, many of them before they turn 25." (NYT).

The world, men and women, can deal with this situation and support these women, or we can criticize their looks, posture, and whether or not they smile like good little girls for the camera. ♦

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Life’s not-so- little ironies


 

As the war in Iraq continues, the media focus intensifies.  From highlighting the courage of the individuals who serve, to figuring out just how many troops will be needed and for how long, the media attempts to paint a picture for those of us less affected by the war.

Like a canvas the front page of Tuesday's New York Times informs that the Army's "ready" brigade, a part of the 82nd Airborne Division that has been kept on 24 hour alert for decades, is not as fit as it used to be.  As the members of the First Brigade of the 82nd Airborne Division, prepare for a tour in Iraq, they find themselves not fully trained, their equipment scattered, unable to meet their standard of deploying several hundred soldiers to a war zone within 18 hours.  Currently, about 50% of the Army's 43 active duty combat brigades,  each consisting of 3,500 soldiers, are serving overseas.  Upon meeting the White House's demand for additional troops, the Army will have a total of 17 brigades deployed to Iraq, two brigades will be in Afghanistan, and four will be deployed to various overseas locations.

Hiding in the background, is an idea by Commerce Secretary Carlos M. Gutierrez's staff, to pressure the Iraqi government to stop giving people monthly food rations.  This suggestion set off a major dispute between Commerce and the State Department.  According to this week's National Edition of The Washington Post, the Iraqi government spends about four billion per year to provide basic rations to all Iraqis regardless of need.  A former embassy official further emphasized the lack of desire on the part of Iraqi politicians to end the distribution of free food.  As Commerce continues to insist on its idea, the irrelevancy of the plan is noted, "I can't tell you how many hundreds of hours everyone has wasted on this issue, when there were all sorts of more productive things they could have been doing with their time," stated one former embassy official.            

          

In small brushstokes, February's Fitness Magazine shares the story of how two women, who have lost their husbands in Iraq, use running to remember their husbands and heal their grief.    

Front and center, the soldier frozen on the cover of last Sunday's The New York Times Magazine challenges readers to discover the trauma suffered by female American soldiers deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan.

Tucked in the right back corner, the OP-ED pages of this week's The Washington Post's National Weekly Edition, give life to former senator Alan K. Simpson's support to overturning the ban on gay service in the military. 

In a signature moment, co host Joy Behar of The View , earlier this week pointed out that it is the men and women of the Armed services and their families that are actually making the sacrifices in the war on Iraq.  During a discussion of Iraqi policy, Joy Behar emphasized her opinion that Americans as a whole have not been asked to make any sacrifices in support of the war effort.

Whether we find it in magazines, newspapers, or interviews, the word on Iraq, the war, its citizens, our American soldiers; is irony.  As the Army faces the difficult prospect of having to return some of its brigades to Iraq with less than a year's training and recuperation, more than 300 hundred language experts have been dismissed under the government's "don't ask, don't tell" policy.  Government agencies who have been asked to work together to resolve problems facing the Iraqi nation; instead end up in their own turf wars.  A couple train for a triathlon yet it is only the wife who crosses the finish line.  Her husband, an Army officer serving in Iraq, killed by a car bomb during a routine check.  Soldiers, carrying the burden of their gender, feel pressured to remain tough, less emotional, to show the world that yes; women can serve in a war zone; find themselves enduring and hiding sexual abuse from their male superiors. 

Each day the sacrifices pile up, careers lost, women made widows long before their time, sleep broken by nightmares, time wasted.  A burden shouldered by a few, images and words to the rest of us.  Yes, the sacrifices are out there, like weeds in the summer, just waiting for someone to pay them mind.                  

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Teenage monsters


The first thing people say after I tell them that I am a high school teacher is “how do you do it?” And what they mean is, “Are you crazy? Don’t teenagers scare you?” I find that almost every adult I encounter has this fear of teenagers. People have an image of monsters who have no respect for authority and who are as likely to pull a gun as an iPod out of their pockets. I think most people forget what it was like to be that age. They forget that they were not really different people then. They were just unsure of their identities and severely lacking in self-confidence.

During my semester of student teaching, my first real teaching experience, I worked at a high school with more than 2,400 students. The building, huge and imposing, overwhelmed me at first. I couldn’t find the teacher’s lounge or the copy room on my own for the first two weeks. Eventually, I found my way around and became comfortable with my students. Except for Emily. Emily tested me from day one. She had a terrible attitude. She thrived on being able to challenge me at every turn, trying to find mistakes in my calculations, asking me how I knew every detail I lectured about. And when she asked questions, it was not with the delightful innocence of youthful intellectual curiosity; it was malevolent. Her eyes glinted with wicked delight if she caught an error. Her sarcastic tone silenced the rest of class as they waited with baited breath for my response. I tried to take it all in stride. She intimidated and irritated me, but my number-one lesson learned as a teacher was to never let them know your buttons have been pushed. I smiled pleasantly as I responded thoughtfully to her every challenge. I admitted graciously any mistakes I made. I was the picture of patience. Then one day, Emily stayed after school to make up a test she missed. As she brought the completed test up to my desk, her face was terribly long and sad. I asked her what was wrong and the flood gates opened. She cried and told me about everything that was wrong. Her family just moved here, she didn’t feel like she fit in yet, she still got lost in the building, she missed her old friends, she was afraid she wouldn’t make the soccer team and she felt like she just failed that test. The poor thing was unhappy about everything and I just sat quietly and listened to her for thirty minutes. When she finished, she said she felt better and went on her way. The next day and every other day Emily smiled at me and treated me with respect. She stopped challenging me and seemed genuinely happier.

Now, whenever I grow weary of the attitude of some of my students, I try to remember what it was like to be a teenager. Every problem and bad circumstance seemed so monumental. I never wish to go back to my teenage years. I remember the uncertainty, the doubts and fears. Because I remember, I do not fear my students; I understand them, at least a little.

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1984/Hillary creator revealed


I don’t like Phil de Vellis.

You may not recognize his name, but you know his work — the YouTube hit of Hillary Clinton’s talking head in Apple’s 1984 commercial. He meant to show support for Barack Obama, whose campaign has been taking heat from day one over the video, insisting no one connected to them had anything to do with the video. But de Vellis was connected, distantly, as an employee of an Internet strategy firm hired by Obama. Now DeVellis has written a letter for The Huffington Post outing himself. He claims he politely resigned; we all know he was fired.

His confession has an arrogant, self-congratulatory tone: “I wanted to show that an individual citizen can affect the [political] process…This ad was not the first citizen ad, and it will not be the last. The game has changed.” De Vellis seems to think he’s doing something new or telling us something we don’t know. Instead, he appears to be jumping up and down in the crowd yelling, “Look at me, I’m special too — I’m the next Kos!”

I found one aspect of the video especially hypocritical. De Vellis chose the Orwellian scenes to protest Clinton’s establishment position — power to the people! Think for yourself! But on the commercial rebel’s waist sits an iPod. I supposed De Vellis hasn’t heard of iPod city — the giant sweatshop in China where workers assemble millions of tiny, DRM’d, 10,000-song holding little symbols of corporate control. It doesn’t get more establishment than that.

Hopefully de Vellis will fade back into obscurity and cubicle life at another company. But I fear that, like Judy Miller and Jessica Cutler, he will be rewarded for his cry for attention. There may be a book deal or a political job, and he will probably make more “citizen ads.” Pretty soon he’ll be just another talking head.

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personal stories. global issues.