It’s in the 14th Amendment! If any adult male (through the 19th it becomes any adult) qualified to vote is denied the right to vote, then the state in which it happens shall lose representation in the House of Reps (and the Electoral College) to the extent of that denial.

If we posit an Australian standard of 100% turnout, then the electoral votes and representation for each state can be reduced to the extent that turnout doesn’t meet that standard.  Thus, if turnout in, say South Carolina, is only 33% the SC would lose 2/3 of its members of the House etc.

Had the standard existed in 2000 and 2004, Bush would have lost

[Crossposted at What’s the Point?]

I wanted to do something here that was in keeping with the web community philosophy that the more you know about the people behind a web site, the more interested you’ll be in what they have to say — unless, of course, the extra information includes some rather disturbing IM messages.

So, based on a similar idea by James Boyce on Huffington Post, I decided I’d do a kind of Meet the Bloggers feature of my own to let people know  the writers of GMD a little better.

But, the idea came with a bad omen…

Cuz, following Boyce’s original entry, he profiled Peter Daou, who soon disappeared from the blogosphere to work for Hillary Clinton. And then, almost on the day he posted his profile of Jerome Armstrong, news began to spread about Armstrong’s past run-in with the SEC and his fondness for astrology-based, political fortune telling.

And, with that, the series ended.

So, in order to appease the Stars, who are perhaps a little miffed about the demotion of Pluto, I decided to just post the responses to my first interview question: What is your first political memory?

Of course, you’re certainly encouraged to answer the question in the comments, too…

And now, in There’s Moretown, here they are:

Jack McCullough…

My first political memory was the night JFK won the nomination for  presidency in 1960. This was a big deal for my family, and that election  is the first one I really remember.

Odum…

Vietnam Cease Fire. What was it…january of…’73? I think it made an  impression ‘cuz my family was watching so intently, and I was able by  that time to read enough to recognize the words "cease fire" in the  wipe/box over the anchorman’s (Harry Reasoner, maybe?) shoulder.

Ed Garcia…

Goodness, I forgot all about this.

Mine is being taken by my  grandparents to see George McGovern at a whistle stop in Stockton, CA  in the summer of ’72. My grandmother told me, "When you see Senator  McGovern, mijo, you tell him you’re going to be the first  Mexican-American President of the United States!" And I did. He laughed  and said, "Good for you!" and shook my little hand.

DAMN, I wish I had a picture of that. I was seven and a half.

Anyway, i left there with a baloon, and one of those blue-on-white McGovern  stickers. Which I applied to the back bumper of my mom’s ’67 Firebird.  BOY, was she pissed. Especially since she couldn’t get it off. She  didn’t dare spank me, though – she didn’t want to hear it from my dad  and grandfather; she was already hearing it enough for supporting  Nixon.

My parents were divorced. Hell, if my wife went Republican, I’d divorce her too. And she knows it.

Actually, i think that was a couple years after the day i asked my grandma what  all those little stick men behind Walter Cronkite were. I was sitting  in her lap. She drew me closer and crossed me and whispered, "Those are  boys who died in the war."

Later on, I went to play in the garden with my army men, but it wasn’t as much fun that day. For some reason.

Mataliandy…

Mine was sitting in the back seat of our big old green station wagon, waiting in line at the Jack-in-the Box drive-through. It was just getting dark out. The radio was on, but I wasn’t paying attention. Then my parents both started exlaiming their utter disbelief that “he” had been elected.  My Dad said something along the lines of “How could this happen? Doesn’t anyone remember?” Then we got a lecture on “this guy’s” history, and how  important it is to vote, so that a “liar like this guy” could never be  elected again. It seemed like a very loooong drive home. As annoying as it was to a little kid hankering for her hamburger and fries, it did sink in.

I did not know at the time who "he" was (I was a bit too young to have  any clue). It was Nixon.

And here’s mine…

A discussion of Nixon’s resignation happening around me on a porch while on vacation in Maine. Based on the August 9th, 1974 resignation date, it well could have been right as it was happening and I must have been 4 years old… Conversation like “Thank God, we’re getting rid of that bastard…” is what I remember…

What’s interesting, aside from the obvious fact that, except for Jack, we’re all pretty much the same age, is that clearly we all grew up in families with a perhaps pathological interest in politics.

So, I suppose, this is how junkie bloggers are born.

In September of 1941, Vermont declared war against Nazi Germany.  That’s three months before Pearl Harbor. 

So…if elected as state representative, I will introduce a resolution declaring peace with Iraq and ordering the A-G of the Vermont National Guard (who is elected by the legislature) to remove all Vermont members of the Guard immediately.  What’s my time table?  How about the 5:15?

The war is illegal and has nothing to do with 9/11.  Frankly, Martha Rainvillle is a war criminal and responsible for the deaths of every Vermonter she sent to slaughter. 

I look at her and  think “Hanna Arendt was right, evil is banal.”