A commemorative spin through the Fray.

This past week, the Fray lost one of its most enduring contributors, REW-OEM — or Bob — as he was known to his readers, friends, combatants and admirers in the Fray. In memorium, samples from his Fray oeuvre can be found below. "He would work for hours, sometimes days, to try and find a way of saying what he felt in his head and heart. He was a very caring and creative man. He was very bright. He was a great father and mentor for all of us," writes his son.

A window into Bob:

Subject: Thoughtful Threads v Threadbare Thoughts

Re: "Saddam and the Doctrine of Last Means" [top post by TheBell]         

From: REWOEM-3

Date: Dec 2 2001  8:02 a.m. PT

Thanks for ringing in once again. This has been a productive discussion and I hope for and look forward to craigm's re:post. When the responses are coherent, challenging and thoughtful - it's fun to weigh-in (or ring-in) and continue to wonder while waiting for the feedback and critical commentary. If only other SLATE threads were as substantial.

In reading some of your other posts, I admire your ability to abjure the idiotic and offensive while still finding the commendable kernel of insight in otherwise lame posts. I wish I could do as well. I'm trying to learn to pick my battles, but it's hard for me to avoid slipping into slashing sarcasm when the RE:'s are salacious, foul, Bible-thumping or boringly banal. Any helpful ideas as to the correction of my often arrogant over-reaction would be appreciated. (I'm still a SLATE neophyte having first posted barely a month ago.)  It really isn't very satisfying to seek to diminish an already dim bulb, or demean the pig-headed by frying their pork-fat thoughts in the skillet of hot, over-confident intellect. I sense that I'm "reducing" myself in the attempted "rendering" of the fat-headed, fatuous, fanatical and feculent (additional F-words, one and all). Sorry - I just couldn't help myself. You've been great - keep up the good work, and any recommendations would be appreciated.

[Find this post here]

Subject: Slate Fray Finds Hitler: Poetry Defeated

Re: "Hearing Aid: Sometimes poetry should be seen and not heard"

       "Queer as Volk: A new book claims Hitler was a closet case"     

From: REWOEM-3

Date: Dec 4 2001  4:58 p.m. PT

Adam - I read your article with interest and found disagreement. But today HITLER's sexuality wins the war of words. For every poetry post, there are ten or more neo-Hitlerite's speaking their perverted sexual minds. I'm embarrassed by the Nazis, hard-up thinkers and empty-headed responders. The great sadness is that poetry is no longer of any concern. Spoken, written, or simply imagined. Poetry is dead. When long times ago, we wished in words and wondered as to inner thoughts, we entered the mystery of language, and posited the indistinct possible. But the magic of the instant-internet and it's openness to the Fuck-Me/Suck-Me/Up-Your-Ass immediate who-cares commentators means that thought - much less poetry - is dead. I'm very sorry. I cried. Yesterday afternoon, in my mind, I sat in the chapel at Little Giddings and wondered about the poet-bank-teller and his cats and Christian comments. But I was very alone. Excepting the children in my mind, force fed in poetry, there was no one else there. An older New England woman in white and poetic lonely thoughts had come later yesterday afternoon, but she'd died on leaving and is now gone. Just before she left to cease the search, I spoke with her of roses and she remarked to me of the fire. And I saw the place I'd never known before - for the first time. And realized that I was forever lost. Adam - trust me. Few, if any, will read this. Fewer yet will care. Fewer still will comment. It's not the readings - it's the writings. In the electronic explosion of access and knowledge - we're losing the way of the word. Poetry is dead. Long live the electronic King and the X-Box experience.

There's a huge pine at the north end of our home, just at the top of the hill - it's destined for white, bright lightning destruction. I hope only to be sitting in it's life-time shade and shadow when it happens. It will. The worth of the word - spoken or read in rest of bed at night - is dead. We're e-connected and e-enabled to a new way. And it ain't about fucking past poetry.

[Find this post here]

Subject: In Memorium: The Red Paper Poppy

Re: Top Post, Best of the Fray    

From: REW-OEM

Date: May 26 2002  4:40 p.m. PT

Growing up in the late May of a small town in the early 1950's where the major after-school excitement was jumping on the bell ringing rubber rope at the local Texaco, running like hell, and then finally breathless turning to see if the squeegee toting attendant had appeared to curse the false gas pumping opportunity, Memorial Day of Decoration Day birth was important. For several days in advance of May 30th, the aging veterans of the foreign wars to end all wars, stood silently, but demandingly, at strategic shopping locations and sold the red paper poppies. Sometimes, they even went door-to-door, pushing poppies and respectful remembrance. Several months ago in the wake of 9/11, driving to a business meeting, I was listening to a public radio piece about the significance of memorialization in light of the recent Twin Towers tragedy and the past tragedy of Oklahoma City. The learned and thoughtful talk was all about spaces, parks, appropriate structures and even high tech laser light shows. The Vietnam Memorial was frequently referenced (and I agree, it's a very moving place). But no one ever mentioned a red paper poppy. There were apparently passé. But to the grandmother of my youth, the mother and aunt of dead warriors, Memorial Day was an important and solemn occasion. We visited and decorated grave sites, we spoke quietly of lives lost and never fully lived. And we all wore red paper poppies. In the 1960's, the crepe of red paper poppies faded. Memorialization was federalized to an American work-week relieving three-day barbeque and became best know as the last Monday in May. And now you never see a red paper poppy anymore. And you seldom think about a dead soldier (except in beer bottle terms). And you rarely ever visit a grave, and wonder what was given, and why it was so damned important that you had to die for it. Memorials constructed with millions of dollars may not be as powerful as the simple red poppy remembrances of the millions.

[Find this post here]

Subject: Gesamtkirschwerk Haiku

Re: Top Post, Best of the Fray

From: REW-OEM

Date: Jul 3 2002  9:54 a.m. PT

Haiku to Gesamtkirshwerk



Green yellow growing

Phallic plantain pleasure fruit

Gesamtkirshwerk brown.



I suspect the German haiku is a very limited poetry form!

[Find this post here]

Subject: Best of the Best

Re: Top Post, Best of the Fray

From: REWOEM-5

Date: Sep 12 2002  7:45 a.m. PT

The Legends:

Second, the Count Basie nomination, would also add Bix Beiderbecke.

The Movers and Shakers:

Modern Jazz Quarter !!! I know, I know, but what about Getz, Coltrane, Herbie and so many others. Still, it's got to be MJQ.

Best Album Ever:

"Sketches of Spain." Hands down, no doubt! MD changed the jazz world forever with a single vinyl moment.

Newcomers:

Don't really know. Awaiting input. And by the by, who is Paul Hardcastle? A few years ago, my kids gave me a couple of CD's that I really enjoyed.

Have I lost all standing as a jazz devotee by venturing beyond the 1960's?

Bob

[Find this post here] 

Subject: Resigning, I Said, Kiss My Acapulco Ass

Re: Top Post, Best of the Fray

From: REW-OEM

Date: Nov 4 2002  5:48 p.m. PT

In my letter of resignation today, I quarreled with the concept of corporate trips and trysts. Over the past 15 years, as my reward for doing my job reasonably well, I could have gone to: Palm Springs, Switzerland, Hong Kong, Marco Island, Aspen, Paris, Phoenix, Puerto Rico, Acapulco and numerous other desirable destinations of consuming corporate greed. OK, it's true, in 1995, I failed in true virtue, and took my kids and wife with me to Acapulco. Excepting the minimal meetings of IRS accountabilty, we had a wonderful time both before, and after, the two hours of sign-in, sign-out meetings of Karate Kid corporate waxing-on, waxing-off compliance and wonder. We'd never gone before and never went again. While the moment was great fun; it was a bad mistake that we often discussed. In our home town, there were people trying life in cardboard boxes under the railroad trestle. Kids who couldn't talk because speech had been beaten out of them. And a drunken old man who'd lost his teeth and now dirty-hand covered his mouth in shame. Thank God, our kids think about those so sad people far more than Acapulco sensation. I'm very proud. I can resign in the confidence of the next generation. And Sir & Madam, if you're a truly Acapulco-bound and a financially deserving worker-of-wonders, please kiss my liberal children on the cheek. They will be waiting for you in the double-wide Kenmore/Whirlpool box just under the trestle of tragic life. Life is more than just a vacation, sometimes it's a life-caring vocation. Thanks kids, for all the insights,



Bob & Dad

[Find this post here ]

Subject: Final Fray Thoughts & Best Wishes

Re: Top Post, Best of the Fray

From: REW-OEM

Date: Nov 13 2002  10:45 a.m. PT

Friday morning the movers will come to close up my office, box up 15 years worth of files for return to my company, remove the furniture, and by 5:00PM we should be able to turn the lights off for the last time. My work resignation is official on 11/30 so we're a bit ahead of schedule on the office. On the home front, we're looking forward to a final Thanksgiving with family members, children, in-laws and friends. A day or two or more of feasting, recollection and fun after almost three decades in our community. On the Monday following, after the big-screen has cooled down from four days of football frenzy, the movers, packers and shakers will box-up our lives and we'll be off to our home in Florida. We have mixed feelings. Four of five children were born here, they all grew up here (we moved here when our oldest son was barely six months old). But it's kind of nice to be moving on to a new adventure. But, for me personally, leaving home isn't any more difficult than leaving the Fray, my other home for the past year plus of involvement. I started on the political and commentary Boards (BB, CB, and many others) had no idea what the BOTF was. I had a lot of great other board experiences:

(1) Early on, I was stalker. I read the political Slate articles and then watched for The Bell, texwiz, locdog, and many others. They were all so opinionated and flawed in their thinking, but still interesting and cogent.

(2) After a time, I began to respond. They were still very annoying and surely needed sound direction. I queried, questioned and quarreled. And yet, they countered with approval and acceptance, albeit strongly disagreeing on my liberal principles.

(3) Moira began to check-mark REW-OEM for a few reasonable posts. I was affirmed.

(4) After 6 months or so, I received a Moira STAR. She noted that I had a strange name, REW-OEM, and even stranger thoughts on multiple topics.

With growing acceptance, I was loving the Slate experience and I came to BOTF. Coincidentally, about the same time I was **STARRED** I began to suspicion that something was wrong. Sometimes I didn't think clearly (maybe you noticed once or twice) and by late afternoon my ideas were pretty jumbled or unreasonably or even nastily argumentative. These concerns were shortly confirmed in medical terms. I abandoned **STARDOM** because it wasn't deserved, and thereafter, except for a few last adventures in other boards of reasonable thought, I became a BOTF poster. It was really quite different.

(1) It was more social and friendly than the boards of political battle, I came to know and love the personas of BOTF.

(2) It was relational and yet still very thoughtful. I ventured into the expression of personal feelings (a Mothers Day or wedding thoughts post are likely the most memorable).

(3) It was often funny and frivolous.

(4) I made friends, and unfortunately, enemies, especially as I ventured into the PoemFray (except for Haiku thoughts, 17 syllables, that I can still manage).

And then I began to sense it was over. My personal confusion was so evident and growing that I resigned and resigned and resigned. I think I've resigned from Fray participation a record number of times. I was gone for awhile (or responding in thin disguises) and the medications helped, but Bob's problem was still evident. I came back because it's fun and you are all great. I'm glad I did, I met a few more great people (even a graduate of my Golden Brahman undergraduate institution, he's now a respected Harvard attorney and very competent Fray commentator). I had great good fun this week with a birthday probability question. It was what I could still do, short and sweet, quips and quick answers. When, at the end of a long day, I ventured outside of that, well, it was a disaster.  I know, this post is far too long.



But I sincerely want to say:



THANKS, to the Fray thinkers who have brightened my mind,

THANKS, to the Fray friends who have consoled and understood,

THANKS, to the Fray opponents of respectful disagreement.

APOLOGIES, to those I have offended,

APOLOGIES, to those with whom I've been unfair,

APOLOGIES, for the less meaningful or appropriate responses.

And FINALLY,

I LOVE YOU FRAY PEOPLE. THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES.



Bob

[Find this post here ]

Subject: Still Life In Small Word Files

Re: Top Post, Best of the Fray

From: REW-OEM

Date: Apr 2 2003  12:12 p.m. PT

Prologue:

I live in small words and Word files.

In the good moments, I write as fast as I can and chase my thoughts to the write-ending File Save. Then, in the next better morning, I come again and re-read the spent ideas and tailings of my yesterday mind, delete the major defective portions, and then try to make some sense and write again.

It's a very slow process.

A few weeks or more ago, I surrounded my reality of dimming life with words and death wishes in this forum, but then I stayed far too long.

I offended some without good cause (Oscar 1-2, Chango). I ignored freely offered kindness and consideration (locdog and many others) and even failed to respond to the words of very real caring (Persephone).

My self-consumption is so damnably confusing and consuming. My profound pardon to all of you for either my insult or insensitivity.

I too often feel alone in this straddle space between the life files of the real and the word files of the virtual.

It's so strange. The real is so unreal; and the virtual is just the mind's fond pretend. A few ideas in the small Word files…

[Find this post in its entirety here ]

Subject: Have You Ever Been to the Country Fair

Re: Top Post, Best of the Fray

From: REW-OEM

Date: Jun 26 2003  11:12 a.m. PT

Sometimes, I Think About the County Fair… I'm sure I have absolutely nothing to say. I guess I just never really believed that I bought the right ticket to a full life. Your comments on today's recent headlines and new thoughts and cogent challenges spin by my mind in a blur and leave me with the fervent wish it just were not so. But by late calm of this afternoon, I know that I am better suited to the park bench where I can sit and watch the slowly turning ferris-wheel of life go up and down, round and round, and the two-ticket tilt-a-whirl of circling up-sets and up-chucks, and my most confusing feelings. And then when I remember I had young laughter, and then I can then toss my thoughts aside and recall life. I went to the 4-H thing today. There were rabbits the size of large dogs, hogs that weighed more than my SUV, and cows that gave and gave and gave, without ever beginning to milk the question. They were slimey lemon-lime-key merangue pies with blue-ribbons stuck in the sugars of "you-better-throw-it-away" tomorrow or die. There were apple and peach pies that were so properly made they could be served in a future the next life's century of consumption. And there was rhubarb, pumpkin, mince and all the other unfortunates. I also saw vegetables. Carrots fat beyond possible consumption. A potato for a family of six-starving Irish. A huge rutabaga with an attitude. And a bright red tomato with botanical sex on its mind. Later I had a fried and sugared elephant-ear. And then I sat on the bench provided for the old and pre-maturely infirm. I sat alone and then said, "I have nothing to say." I've been to a County Fair or two. I guess I don't need the vegetables. I can live without lemon pies. I don't even need the beef and pork. But I still really need the real and hopeful people.



Bob

[Find this post here]

Friday, August 15, 2003

Lights Out: WVMicko takes the gloves off in  Ballot Box Fray, calling out Slate's chief political correspondent, William Saletan, for Saletan's slam on Howard Dean. Saletan takes Dean to task for allegedly dressing up his signing of a civil unions bill while Governor of Vermont in 2000 as an act of courage. According to Saletan:

Dean had no choice but to accept such a bill … The court instructed the legislature to grant gays "inclusion within the marriage laws themselves or a parallel 'domestic partnership' or some equivalent statutory alternative ... He did encourage the legislature to pass a civil unions bill. But the alternative he averted was legalizing gay marriage, not preventing gay domestic partnerships.

WV retorts that Dean was, in fact, being courageously pragmatic in achieving an unprecedented, palatable law:

Saletan's opinion — or spin — is that Dean did this only to cripple the law by making it a "civil union" law instead of full, in-your-face gay marriage. Well, Will, I do have to point out that that vital distinction — the fig leaf of preserving the term "marriage" for those who are actually man and wife may well turn out to be the key to making the whole concept politically acceptable to America. But I suppose that making policies good, workable and politically acceptable is, in the mind of a critical journalist, a weakness. Belittle it!

More from WV, including his argument that Dean stepped up and "push[ed] through a law the right way rather than let the courts legislate," can be found here. Saletan responds to WV here:

Hey, Dean people. Get control of yourselves. Your candidate is going to get the same scrutiny as everybody else. If you respond with distortions, wild accusations, and foul language, you're not exactly helping him.

This isn't the first time Saletan has jumped into the Fray to spar with Deaners. Saletan faces his accusers on the issue of Dean and the war here, and takes on a feisty Dean supporter who feels he treats John Edwards with kid gloves here. Meta4 takes up for Saletan here, while Geoff — no fan of the candidate series…

Slate appears to be wasting your talent on this ridiculous assignment, and it's impacting the quality of your analysis for ALL the candidates.