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Why superdelegates should be a thing of the past

Okay, Debbie Wasserman-Schultz may not be going out of her way to personally nudge Bernie off the democratic ticket. I suppose its only ironic that as the head of the Democratic national committee,  Wasserman-Schultz comes off like she’s actually stifling the democratic process. In a world where 2,383 delegates win you the nomination and 712 of those can come on the backs the all-mighty super delegates — maybe friends or people feeling external pressure to support the poster child of the moment - a party will waste energy on itself.

This is just one of the problems that super delegates pose for the voting process. Others issues, not for this paper, include: disillusionment with country aka patriotism, lack of voter turnout and what i’ll call “team morale”.

Staunch enemy to many Wisconsonites (wikipedia)

I’m used to getting frustrated with republicans like Scott Walker in my home state for the sketchy plots they use to get their agenda across (never mind the actual agenda). Now it feels like the DNC is doing the same - squashing voter power in favor of a “higher” plan that only the powerful could devise.

The excuse that the DNC is doing this to protect constituents from a crazy populist person becoming the party’s candidate is a stretch. Its like the type of “watching out for” that rental car companies do when they offer insurance. Its not watching out for, its playing me for a friend when i’m really just a fool to get your own agenda (or, honeydicking).

Right now, those powerful are standing between lots (potentially more than half, potentially less) of democratic voters and a populist candidate, but I don’t think he’s crazy, and I don’t want national fear-mongering to get in the way of my candidate.

By looking to the republican race, its understandable why some people would want to roll the way of security and protection of voters from themselves, but is it worth it?

Lets look at the republicans for an example for a thought experiment.

Say somebody like the Donald - bona fide racist, flame-throwing capitalist, populist - wins the presidency at the end of the day and makes political things happen that voters really don’t like - offensive, bullying, hurtful things. It would be nice if voters had the power to do something about that. Are democrats supposed to look back at the DNC for the next move? Wouldn’t it be more interesting and sustainable to move in a popular way (like millions of people are good at) to make change?

It seems like in that hypothetical where voters have un-checked power to vote, if those people made a choice that millions later regret, voters might feel the consequences of their inputs, learn from mistakes, and also feel inspired to use their power in democracy to change it (word association: helicopter parenting).

The current 2-party system is set up in a way that forces curvy candidates like Sanders and Trump into the box of either 1 or 2. Nader and those before him have shown that a 3rd party is unviable. Outsiders have no choice but to assimilate to party standards. This means that anybody outsider-ish with a shot at the party nomination faces a croney-ist hurdle.

When a respectable person like WA governor, Democratic SUPERDELEGATE, Jay Inslee, gets in-between me and my candidate, I can’t help but feel like both Jay and I lose. I should feel less powerful than i rightfully should, and Jay Inslee should feel bad as a person standing against nearly 73% of his constituents.

Does being a stubborn Clinton-supporting superdelegate compromise Jay Inslee’s otherwise good record or nah? (wikipedia)

Why should Jay Inslee and other super delegates worry about nominating the more well-connected democrat when their all-important constituents have spoken?

Its not wrong that the DNC has a tie-breaker in effect, though when its populist vs party stalwart head to head in a close battle, its more obvious exactly what kind of tie breaker we’ve got here.

[adventurara]

A Puddle of Photos from Punta Arenas

Down where the Atlantic and the Pacific meld together, down where the legend of Earnest Shackleton lives large, down where competitively colonial cultures created a city of amalgamations and possibilities, I hung out with my sister.

During this last stretch of our two months together, we went all out, said “screw it,” and saw some penguins.

The otherwise barren Magdalena Island is home to 69,000 pairs of Magellanic Penguins. They walk around casually though awkwardly, like business people in New York all holding in lots of gas.

The maps have since been updated, but this one is a beaut.

Fond memz of those long, windy days in the geographically bootilicious end of South America.

Now I’m with Liza in Quito, eating many more varieties of fruit, walking through busy streets, and working on the legitimacy of my spanish, and chillin.

Don’t forget thinking about politics! #ethics #makegoodchoices #stilleatlotsofchocolate #stilleatcookiedough

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Torres del Paine

Southern South America is geographically mesmerizing. I even like looking at the google map of the islands and mountains and waterways.

^Before landing in Punta Arenas

Guanacos en una colina que ví en el bus hacía Torres del Paine. Guanacos are the largest land animal in Patagonia, besides their hunter, the puma.

The first campground at Torres del Paine. This is what high season looks like. About 50% of the trekkers were from Chile, lots of Israeli’s on post-military trips, and a bunch more. I could zone out easily, because english was rarely spoken.

Made it to Grey Glacier on my own the first day, and smiled for the fam. 

Wasn’t alone for long though, because this place was like kindergarten it was so easy to meet people. I blame that on how trekking, cooking and eating are all done in certain locations, along with an über chatty atmosphere.

Claudie from Paris, Peter from NYC, and I stopped to figure out where we were. Ya know. Candid. 

Also met a guy Alex, from Stoughton, WI. !

Calafate berries - the blueberry of the southern hemisphere

This red-headed guy is el Carpintero, or the Magellanic Woodpecker- the largest woodpecker in South America. My dad taught me how to find them.

Apparently they live only in the forests made of native trees in the area, one of which is Coihue, which is kinda like a huge bonsai tree. Also a reason to fight the pine tree invasion!!

Panorama desde el mirador britanico. Like most places in the world, Torres has named many areas after explorers, which is always kinda lame. Winona LaDuke mentioned in her Race and Pedagogy National Conference speech in 2015 that she named this process: Naming Mountains After Mortals.

Best birthday ever was then Martha came to town and we hiked to this place together.

Saludos, amigos!

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From the Top: Piedra Parada’s namesake is a 750 ft tall rock just standing stark upright in a huge wide valley (Piedra Parada translates to “standing rock”); Aguja de la Virgen, an awesome spire, with a random pair up there doin their thing; the golden hour just outside of the canyon; my tent site, the location of my first even skunk sighting; how its done, Patagonia style -- a look at one of the first moments of cooking a sheep over an open fire at the campsite, which one dude said would take five hrs to cook and feed 15 people; one of my favorite walls in Piedra Parada, people small near the bottom; rocks r cool; vegetarian options found in nearby hippy town El Bolson; breakfast for royalty!

Piedra Parada and Cultural Values 

or, My Own “What is Water?”

Touted as the greatest climbing location in the world by one dude I met, Piedra Parada is a sport climbing destination about 3 hours outside of Esquel. In the last 4 years climbers have put up great routs all along both sides of this astoundingly impressive canyon. Five kilometers long That means this spot is just a baby, even in terms of the young sport of climbing (which really got going in the second half of the 20th century). With time, and more attention from the surrounding cities an towns, especially Buenos Aires, this place is only going to get more popular. Most of the 200 people climbing at Piedra Parada while I was there were staying at a private campground nearby. The lucky owner is a dude named Mario, and he makes a killing providing (or, better said, because his wife provides) the basics and some running water to climbers. Turns out thats all you really need to provide to appease dirt bags from all over the place. To provide a framework for the atmosphere at Mario’s Wife’s Campground, one can follow logic of the late evenings that are central to Argentine culture. When you’re on vacation and you start cooking dinner at 9 pm, it turns out, you don’t have to wake up too early to give yourself a full, satisfying day of fun. These folks left the waking up early for the few and proudly overzealous (like myself and the other North Americans). The majority of the crew we had going down there were definitely out of the tent by 10:30 am (which is conFUSING to me because of the principle of tents getting super hot after being hit with the sun). But they weren’t eating breakfast by then, no. Mate for an hour or two, then get out the food to make it to the rock by 1pm. 

I’m thinkin “how weird! in the states people wake up EARLY to beat the sun and get time in on the rocks!” especially with such intense sun. Then they break mid-day and get going after it cools down yada yada yada! 

This was the moment, ladies and gentlefolk, that I realized for the first time the cultural lens through which that “early to bed, early to rise” type of mentality was born. Its not just LOGIC y’all! And while that method works really well for many and influences a lot of how i think when i have to be productive myself, the Argentines of Piedra Parada showed me elsewise. They did this by arriving to the rock as the days heat began to wane, warming up on their mate-fortified bodies for a while, then absolutely crushing routes in the late afternoon / evening. It should be noted that while I was around, the sun set at about 9:30 in good ol’ Parada. I stood in awe back at the campsite, thinking of all the times in my college career that I pressured myself to commit to going to bed early as possible to wake up on the “good side” of a day and build some productivity into my mornings that I cruelly told myself were too “lethargic” and “wasteful.” And I don’t think that all Argentinians are just hella blissed out and never worry about work and always achieve their goals due to this outlook, nor that this is a universal difference between people in the states and Argentina. The powerful message for me, I think, is becoming hip to a sort of monoculture regarding how to succeed, and, simultaneously, beautiful alternatives.

[adventurara]

The Holidays

Top to Bottom: The Civic Center of Bariloche on X-mas Eve; X-mas breakfast! Martha with her dutch baby; view of the complex mountains and lakes from Cerro Llao Llao 45 min from Bariloche; a look at some bife de chorizo (sirloin) done Argentine style at our fav asado restaurant; one section of a mosaic mural near Martha’s apt; street art in Bariloche, artist unknown; Liza and Mount Tronador; a glacial river coming from Tronador; a beautiful house in Esquel (5 hrs south of Bariloche); part of a mosaic in Esquel

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Dad Does Patagonia

Photography was a dominant theme during my dad’s visit to Bariloche, especially panoramas. With good reason: his visit also included adventures to some of the prettiest places in and and around Bariloche. 

(Not pictured: many cortados, which we think are the local favorite coffee drink, and chillax-ed cafetería sessions.)

Top to Bottom: the fam on a nature walk to Lago Mascardi; Martha’s house in late December; tree tops of the gangly and powerful Coihue trees (of family nothafagus for the ecologically inclined); Dad on Cerro Otto, gettin pics overlooking Lago Nahuel Huapi; patagonian parrots chowing on tree bark; overlooking neighbor town El Bolson on a weekend getaway; Dad in air bnb heaven with the charismatic herd dog Thor, chillin; Martha and Dad on a bridge over Rio Azul - our favorite fishing spot; Lago Nahuel Huapi from the city edge on a blue day; Brazo Blest (or “Blest Arm”) of Nahuel Huapi, where the dark clouds to the left illustrate stormy weather typical of the mountains, and light area right of center represents clear-er skies typical of the pampa.

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sammy sammy sammy #greatwaytofeelokay #Marthamunches

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makin mems #smilingdogshungrydogs (at Ideas Felices)

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Photos, From The Top:

Stoked on a trip to Chile; Skipping stones in lake Nahuel Huapi; informational tourist stop; Snow fields up to refugio Frey; Pointing at a pretty mountain; Tree Lyf; Fishing; Chillin at Frey; Sandwiches for lunch; Travel Lyf

Sudamerica - Part II, Asado and Ravioli in Bariloche

A light whiff of gas floats through the air in my sisters Bariloche apartment. She’s running the stovetop, nearly back to back with me as I chop peppers on the dining table. We’re making ravioli from the neighborhood pasta maker that I’m now obsessed with, and trying to get our fix of veggies while we’re at it. When it comes to dinners in this andean town, us veggie-philes have to fight for our beloved fresh crunch. Argentina goes heavy on thick cuts of meat, and Bariloche is no exception.

Bariloche sprawls along the shore of lake Nahuel Huapi (pronounced like Nah-well Wah-pee) at a latitude of about 40 degrees south. That means that Bariloche and Denver are about equally far from the equator, and have fairly similar climates, ecosystems, etc. With the mountainous relief out here, this similarity is beautiful in many ways, though also presented unforeseen challenges.

My first couple of days here destroyed my weird, fantastical, and ignorant Wisconsinite notions that the further south you go, (1) the more exotic fruits you can eat and (2) the more Mexican the food becomes.

Turns out Bariloche is actually way further from Mexico than Wisconsin, that the only type of banana available here is the same one you can get anywhere in the world, and that Argentinians don’t have a palate for spiciness.

Resume the kitchen scene: Martha has found this amazing pasta place (with really good beef ravioli) and we’re eating what amounts to soul food in a far away land whose foreign flavor sometimes feels like it was inspired by a hot pocket. General blandness aside, the meat I’ve had here, made in the traditional asado style is an anomaly. It gets sprinkled only with a bit of salt to retain juiciness, and shows that sometimes laying off all the sauces and cover-ups can be a game changer.

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Top to bottom: Rodez is all about multiple eyes and his is influenced by partially by ayahuasca; Mr. Troll does rare animals with halos over their heads to suggest we regard them highly; Crisp does masks along with 2D work all over the world; Dabuten Tronko shows a lil’ bit of asian influence on their art in this badass piece; RTZ is made up of folks from the south side of Bogota; Not sure; Not sure; DJ LU with an elaborate stencil face; Stinkfish is known for painting from pictures of youth with bright colors coming out of their faces; Toxicomano (toxic hand) mixes punk culture with graffiti styles.

Also worth ckeckin out these folks who’s art i didn’t get a good pic of, especially:

Guache - all about vibrant murals of indegenous peoples

Bastardilla - art features poverty, femenism, pain, violence, and nature

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From the Top: Bogotá, from Monserrate; Liza, Sarah, and I in a selfie; Graffiti in Bogota from artist Nomad; artist Rodez; and unknown artist; the forest lying behind buildings in the neighborhood, La Calendaria; street lyf in La Calendaria; a dog, not being pet by Aliyah; Baby Pug

Story II: Sudamerica

Part I, City Life 4 Degrees North

Liza and I swayed and bumped softly with the taxi, avoiding potholes and weaving through tight, curbed turns. In Bogotá*, as anywhere, driving at night while the traffic is elsewhere is fun. Though in a city of what could have been a billion to us nimrods, I felt like were going on what taxi rides in odd places normally feel like to me - a hell ride to nowhere. The dark city streets lined with unfamiliar trees had not been downloaded onto my mental map. There are no people on these streets, its spooky and unfamiliar here, and these wild turns we’re taking surely are leading straight to -- oh, our hostel. Chill.

Its true I’m on a tour of important people in my life. Aliyah brought me windingly to Denver, Liza brings me to Bog-city. A place, similar to Tacoma, that has a growing coalition of people spreading the word of its beauty. These travel articles and hopeful Bogoteños downplay the bad parts and prefer to talk about the cutting edge of the city, its potential, and the signs of times a changin’. I ran into this narrative a lot online before I arrived, and in small-talk convos on the street. The trends are out there though, the new restaurants, for sure, and I really did like the hip movie theater we went to.

But the people I talked to who seemed to know Bog-city the best talked more about how Bogotá was made up of an interesting patchwork of neighborhoods, where lots can change over a small distance. Two of the folks living in the apartment we air bnb’d told us that sometimes real nice ‘hoods rub right up against “sketchy” ones. Like their “sketchiness levels” had been chosen haphazardly across the city, leaving me to wonder how neighborhood safety even comes about. Wouldn’t it make sense for a town to have more of a gradient? I don’t know. Thanks to the way capitalism and poverty and gentrification work, I’m sure that study would be an interesting one. 

Sarah, a friend of Liza’s from Steamboat, CO, who’s in Bogotá studying to be a spanish professor, talked about how neighborhoods are actually rated on a socioeconomic scale from 1-6 (6 being the bougiest). What? I mean, WHAT?!? How does that come about?? Feels like some 2nd grader was organizing their toys into piles based on how new they were, or something totally weird like that. I’m sure its not to make resources more evenly spread out for folks. While we CAN applaud Bogota for charging the 6′s more for electricity, heat, etc., I mean talk about classism! There are probably more businesses and services delegated to those areas so corporations know where to make the cheddah.

 It seemed from the top of Monserrate, where Sarah was telling us this, that most of the city was not livin it up in the 5′s and 6′s.

Liza and I experienced this segmentation in a benign way, noticing that one area would have all the “camera” shops and the next would be bohemian cafe/bars and the next would be museums. What little anthropologists we are!

On the free tour of street art in Bogotá, my tour guide was a woman, Anne, who reminded me of my family’s german exchange student from 2003 in the way she spoke. She expressed that people are certainly upset, struggling with and confused with what politicians and rich folks have done to people in the country and city (prob some gerrymandering), and that still people love to live here. Like, sometimes people are assholes, sometimes shit doesn’t work out, but still we love this city! Almost like, we WANT this city with all its bad parts so that we can know we’re loving the whole thing. 

This positive and passionate, yet aggressive and countercultural sentiment is something I was surrounded by a lot in Tacoma. That “haters gonna hate, and I choose to love” way of thinking was expressly the motive of the nonprofit Aliyah and I worked with, and it is a theme of the way I think most Tacomans - and people from “gritty” or “blue collar” places across the world - think about their towns.

Another special part of this stay came from old and new connections. My former diaper buddy and current poop-joke buddy, Andrew was born in Bogotà, and lived at an orphanage before his parents - friends with my parents at the time and still now - jumped through all the necessary hoops to adopt a lil Colombian cutie. A taxi ride took us touristas to an area we wouldn’t have otherwise gotten to. Like, Botogá for Bogoteños. Want lunch? No fettuccini alfredo here! Try chicken soup! Followed by grilled steak (or chicken) with fries and lemonade. Want hella gringos? Go somewhere else. Museos? probs not. 

It was not the exact building Andrew had been at, but still felt important to check out this space and talk to the people in it. Soon we were walking around the hallways on a lil tour, seeing each room they had and the beautiful and not so beautiful babies. It seemed okay to interact with them because our tour guide/friend at the orphanage and Liza were both succeeding in making some infants giggle, so I wiggled the toe of a one and a half year old who just started crying immediately. I stopped doing that, and we moved on to the next rooms. 

Without getting gushy, it was an incredible experience. To all my folks in the US - where are our orphanages?? This one was between a few restaurants and across the street from a fruit stand.

*Want to fly to South America from the states and don’t know where to start? That was me, too. Go to Bogotà. You can make it happen for like $220 one way. 

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A big shout out to limestone for being so globular In Bogota I'm paranoid about my phone and haven't taken new pics for a minute. Here's one of my faves from the NW road #whatstheoppositeofpointy? #thefins #idahoe? #idahorocks (at Casas para mascotas " Mi perrito ")

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SLC --> Moab --> Aspen

From Top: The Mormon Tabernacle has the 12th largest organ in the world, with over 11,000 individual pipes; Oh, and there’s also another organ in the next building; Night climbing is a thing, and yes its safe!; Marianne and Owen enjoying Aliyah’s concert; 70 foot tall indoor climbing wall that opened the very day we stopped in for a sesh (you can see people in the lower left for size comparison); Aliyah slappin the top of a boulder route in Moab; Moab colors; Moab textures; Moab lyfe; Julia and Aliyah, victorious on our snowy river stroll in Aspen

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Mizzou

so happy those ‘ballers used the immense influence that football players have to make a statement to keep business as usual from going on at the U of Missouri. I have a dream that the NFL will take the hint

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Farm 2: The Kraays Place

From Top: Aliyah cooking breakfast at Dead Cow ranch near Stanley, ID; Driving out to the Kraay’s place in Bellevue, ID; An evening view of the tipi at the Kraay place; Tomato a go-go in the greenhouse even though temps were chilly!; With Joèl, installing posts for the grape vine trellace Aliyah designed; Super fun climbing in underground lava tubes!; Aliyah and my favorite dog of the trip so far, Oslo; Looking down the hill at the beauuuuutiful limestone slabs aka “The Fins,”; Poncho and Lefty on Halloween; Larry’s first selfie

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Pics from Boise: The Gore-Schramm Fam

From the Top: Alli, Aliyah and Fluffy the chicken; Aliyah and Lindsay getting ready to make some kraut!; Ray giving welding instructions to Aliyah; Welding!!!; Ray with all the fertilizer needed to amend 0.6 acres of soil; Aliyah on the 0.25 acres we covered with hella mulch and cardboard, part of the “deep mulch” method for conserving water in farming; Having fun at Lindsay’s garlic class; a look at Eagle, ID, where the farm is at; hangin with our friend and Boise native, Brad; good times with the Gore-Schramm fam!

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Part II, WWOOF-style

In the fields of Eagle, ID, we pulled up in the long gravel driveway of our first WWOOF hosts: Ray Gore, Lindsay Schramm and their super rad daughter Alli. We were eager beavers, ready for whatever. We were interested in working with them on their project to save water in farming. It's called deep mulching or the "back to Eden" method. Super cool process where you basically cover your soil with 9" - 1' of mulch so the sun can't bake off the moisture. Folks who live in dry climates like Boise or places experiencing extreme droughts ((Like CALIFORNIA, etc)) might find these kinds of practices more and more necessary. Ray was in the Marines before getting into soil science where he met Lindsay who owned and operated a farm in arid AZ right after graduating college. Now, among other things they are great plant innuendo developers ("I wet my plants" and "garden hoe" and other like sayings span the backs of shirts for Lindsay's nursery. When somebody comes up with a good one, Ray says, "that one's shirt-worthy!") Ray now makes his off-road campers and microwaves his own veggie burgers. He and Lindsay work on projects ranging from finding all the free large cardboard pieces in Boise for the yard, to creating a self-sustaining farm with only organic materials. Lindsay knows more than anyone I've ever talked to about soil. Aliyah and I enjoyed every minute of her knowledge sessions at the nursery and on the farm. She runs the show in the house and apparently used to love karaoke. Alli, 6, manages the chicken coops, makes card houses and has a bright future in rock climbing. Turns out that helping with this cutting edge water conservation practice turned out to be a couple of days spreading cardboard and mulch on a quarter of an acre, but that's okay! Sometimes you gotta just put in some work! We can really get into this whole living and eating for free In exchange for a days work thing. Especially when the people are so good. Between Eagle and our next stop, we crashed on a meadow offered to us by the good man Peter Engh. We woke up cozy in our van/bed to snow of the windows and all over the ground. As the late great Ned Stark said, "winter is coming" But we keep on! South of Bellevue, we pull into another long gravel driveway and pass a few corrals to a trailer with a view. Larry and Sherry come from the house to greet us with warm smiles and boundless generosity. Aliyah and I reached out to these two because of their water-saving hopes. Bellevue is the kind of place that makes you feel like your hands will never ever moisturize. It's just south of the sun valley lodge and is home to many ranches. Not a lot of food production happening in the Big Wood river valley. That's precisely why they started Kraay Market Gardens. The land that once held 35 horses now only has 9, and most of the rest of that space is being dedicated to growing food! On their land There is 2' of clay just beneath 4" of top soil. Not fertile ground. They brought us into their mix to brainstorm with them about how to get water into the soil and help them bring veggies to the valley. So we did a lil manual labor with a lil creative planning. For example: Aliyah researched and developed a schematic for a grape vine trellace, then showed us how to put it together and we built it. With Joél's guidance, of course. Joél is the guy that makes the world go round on this ranch. We saw him fix problem after problem without stress or, it seemed, trouble. He's so patient he even spoke with me in Spanish. I feel like it would take a lifetime to get to know Joél, and that would be a worthwhile experience, though we won't be staying around. Aliyah and I both have found pain in that since leaving Tacoma. Life on the road ain't so easy for all the breaking-up you have to do with people you meet, it seems. In the evening we ate our vegan, oil- and nut-free dinners made and served by Sherry. Her cooking moved us. I mean, #cmon it was amazing. Key lime mousse made with only tofu, maple syrup and limes?! Dude it was good. And the meals were super tasty as well. Apparently one of the inspirations for the cooking is called the happy herbivore, and apparently you can look her stuff up to taste the magic for yourself. Sherry's cooking seemed to be an extension of herself. She cooked intensely flavorful meals that took effort to make and used intentional ingredients to make a satisfying product. Her quiet demeanor never undermined her care and power. Sherry's expression through food swam alongside Larry's ability to ask the real questions. He came out with "What inspired you to come on this trip?" about 30 seconds after we met, in the most genuine way. Larry has been at this farm for a long time, and had a teaching career before he got into Arabian horses 35 years ago - which had been his dream since age 8. What dreams will we pursue? Cold weather now chases us south to Utah.