If you are a politics junkie as I am, you watched (almost) every minute of the Democratic national Convention. If you missed the big speeches, I am posting them here.
I want to mention that the diversity of the delegates is remarkable. I’m old enough to remember the Democratic Convention of 1964, when the state sent an all-white delegation, which was challenged by a slate of Black delegates. The rules were the rules, and the all-white delegation kept their seats. The Mississippi delegation in 2024 was fully integrated, reflecting the people of the state.
Here were the speeches, all excellent!
Doug Emhoff, the Second Gentleman, explains how he and Kamala met. My favorite line occurred when he introduced his parents in the stands and said his mother was the only person in the world who thought that Kamala was lucky to marry him! (Everyone else saw the reverse.)
The audience greeted the Obama with enthusiastic applause that lasted for several minutes. Both are dearly loved.
Michelle Obama was outstanding. She is a polished speaker and she delivered a powerful speech.
Barack Obama gave an excellent speech. He paid tribute to Joe Biden. Then he talked about the values we share as Americans and tried to bridge the partisan divides.
Diane Ravitch's blog 
Michelle Obama’s speech was inspiring and well delivered. She captured the frustration of working people but also urged them to keep on fighting. She shredded Trump without even mentioning him by name and praised Biden for his decency and kindness. The last part of her address was a call to action. She urged everyone to serve the campaign in some way, and she really fired up the crowd. It was a terrific address that resonated with the audience.
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The best joke of the night was from Obama about Tim Walz’s shirts. Walz’s wife’s reaction was perfect. https://edition.cnn.com/2024/08/21/politics/video/barack-obama-tim-walz-flannel-shirt-wife-digvid
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Michelle Obama’s talk was not just a powerful political speech. It expresses an important change in American culture, from what is represented by Trump and his boys to what is embodied in Kamala’s candidacy. She did not so much attack Trump as such, but as he represents a whole form of society, male and white and privileged, now passing into oblivion. That might or might not get registered in the election itself, for it may be close, but there is simply no turning back.
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The contrast between the two conventions is stark. @MorningJoe posted a clip of the state roll call from both. The GOP convention looks like a nursing home; no energy. The Dem convention was a dance party, with roars of enthusiasm, music, flashing lights.
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Two things stuck with me also:
First, Michelle Obama outed Trump’s racism, but also everyone else’s in history by making it crystal clear what it looks and sounds like . . . and in the fact that black people are oh-so-aware of how (some/ most and, at some point/all) white people think about, for instance, “black jobs.”
Some time ago, an otherwise wonderful person in my family was given a beautiful winter coat by her husband for Christmas. While shopping later that week in the city, she saw a black woman wearing the same coat . . . whereupon this wonderful person threw hers out.
Second, Neither Harris nor Walz, nor any of their family will embarrass us on the international scene. They might undergo mistakes, but they won’t be cringeworthy like Trump’s behaviors ALWAYS are.
I doubt there is anyone in the world, including dictators, who cannot and did not recognize that kind of authenticity, and the love of one’s family, that can only come from a history of loving and supporting, that cannot be faked, and that flowed so spontaneously from these wonderful people . . . they lit up the room last night and everyone was riding on the back of a star. I feel better about everything this morning. CBK
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Beautifully said, CBK!!!!
Each time Trump spoke to the United Nations, the delegates actually LAUGHED AT HIM.
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I doubt there is anyone in the world, including dictators, who cannot and did not recognize that kind of authenticity, and the love of one’s family, that can only come from a history of loving and supporting, that cannot be faked, and that flowed so spontaneously from these wonderful people . . . they lit up the room last night
YES YES YES YES YES
You nailed it, CBK!!!
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An excellent observation. The worst thing you can call Trump is not “a disgrace”. The worst thing is “irrelevant”.
Every Republican should go out and buy a calendar. A big one.
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I just listened to Doug Emhoff’s speech. Wow! whose family do you want in the White HOuse?
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IKR?
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I intend to watch Walz tonight. History in the making. Have we ever had a teacher become VP?
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speduktr: . . . and regarding their effect on teachers and public education? best thing since zippers. CBK
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Go DEMS! 💙💙💙
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One request that I must make. Can we all agree to stop pretending Amanda Gorman is a great (or even good) poet? And stop inviting her to read at events like this? She is so bad!
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A lot of people seem to think that a) if it is in words, and b) expresses strong emotions and c) is broken into lines and c) violates standard conventions of grammar and usage, it’s a poem. This is a great pity. She could, with a lot of work, become a decent poet. A good teacher could instruct her, for example, on showing, not telling–one using the objective correlative and could point her to models from Robert Browning to Denise Levertov. But she has gotten fame and fortune for producing this sort of 16-year-old emoto-verse because most people wouldn’t know a well-wrought poem from a carburetor. I hope she will grow out of this phase because she does have talent and intelligence, but alas, the adolescent work is being rewarded, so we are likely to see a lot more of it.
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Argh!
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I am sad
today.
Sad because
stuff happens.
I bet it happens
to you, too.
Even your crew
can be
crew-el sometimes.
Can’t
they?
But then,
trees.
Woah.
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No.
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YMMV
Amanda Gorman’s DNC poem:
We gather at this hallowed place because we believe in the American dream.
We face a race that tests if this country we cherish shall perish from the earth
and if our earth shall perish from this country.
It falls to us to ensure that we do not fall for a people that cannot stand together,
cannot stand at all.
We are one family regardless of religion, class, or color
for what defines a patriot is not just our love of liberty, but our love for one another.
This is loud in our country’s call because while we all love freedom, it is love that frees us all.
Empathy emancipates, making us greater than hate or vanity. That is the American promise, powerful and pure.
Divided we cannot endure but united we can endeavor to humanize our democracy and endear democracy to humanity.
And make no mistake, cohering is the hardest task history ever wrote,
but tomorrow is not written by our odds of hardship, but by the audacity of our hope by the vitality of our vote.
Only now, approaching this rare air are we aware that perhaps the American dream is no dream at all, but instead a dare to dream together.
Like a million roots tethered, branching up humbly, making one tree.
This is our country from many, one, from battles won,
our freedoms sung, our kingdom come has just begun.
We redeem this sacred scene ready for our journey from it.
Together we must birth this early republic and achieve an unearthly summit.
Let us not just believe in the American dream. Let us be worthy of it.
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Ah, the “hallowed place” of the United Center arena.
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These are fine sentiments, but fine sentiments do not a poem make. Sorry.
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I do hope our earth doesn’t perish from this country, though.
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IKR? My lord. Just terrible writing. She seriously needs to go to university and study poetry so that she understands something of what she is doing. But, ofc, there are always going to be people who think that Dan Brown is a great novelist and that Cheese Whiz on a hotdog is fine dining.
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Robert Browning’s poem My Last Duchess:
That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now; Fra Pandolf’s hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will’t please you sit and look at her? I said
“Fra Pandolf” by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, ’twas not
Her husband’s presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess’ cheek; perhaps
Fra Pandolf chanced to say, “Her mantle laps
Over my lady’s wrist too much,” or “Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint
Half-flush that dies along her throat.” Such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart—how shall I say?— too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate’er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, ’twas all one! My favour at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace—all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men—good! but thanked
Somehow—I know not how—as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody’s gift. Who’d stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech—which I have not—to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, “Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
Or there exceed the mark”—and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse—
E’en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene’er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will’t please you rise? We’ll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master’s known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter’s self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we’ll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!
Different strokes for different folks.
One can look at a beautiful, finely drawn painting or listen to a beautiful poem and appreciate its artistic merit. Or you can listen to a poem that might move you and make you think about the larger world, even if that poem lacks the same artistic merit as a poem that demonstrates the literary prowess of the poet but may not cause you to think about the wider world and your place it.
I don’t like Kanye West personally, but he wrote lyrics that moved many people and made them think about the wider world. I suspect Amanda Gorman does the same. She did for me.
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Stop both-sidesing poetry
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In my opinion:
Both siderism is appropriate for art, not reality.
Alternative art is okay, “alternative facts” are not.
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nope
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