Mitt Romney today blamed his loss at the polls in part on the desire by minorities for "gifts", presumably to be given by President Obama.

The Southern Strategy was an electoral strategy employed by the U.S. Republican Party from the 1960s to the 2000s. As evidenced by Mitt Romney, it continues today. Its math is simple: racism attracted more white votes in the U.S. South than it lost black votes nationwide.

There has been much talk since Barack Obama's Nov 6, 2012 election win of shifting demographics and the relative decline in potency of a conservative, white bloc. However, I think there is a leading indicator that is more subtle.

As background, the Southern Strategy initially depended on the calculus of openly stating that government would work to the benefit of whites and to the detriment of blacks -- that economic opportunity, safety, redistribution, etc., would all be done to benefit whites and harm blacks. This radical agenda was achieved by the creation of an "Other" -- assigning to black Americans, not just the obvious inequality of opportunity, but a host of nefarious attributes: evil, corruption, sexual deviancy, intellectual inferiority, etc. To be sure,  others have become Others: Latinos, Arabs, Muslims, Gays, Feminists, and intellectuals. Even in 2012, some see women in general as the Other, evidenced by astonishing remarks made by Todd Akin, Richard Mourdock, and others on rape and female sexuality.

But at some point, the Other becomes the neighbour, and an intermediate stage is reached that I would call the "one of the good ones" period. Since the 1980s, the Republican Party has embraced certain, select blacks and Latinos, while continuing to view the vast majority as the Other.

However, if trusting a person extinguishes their Otherness, there has to be a saturation point at which so many voters befriend an Other that they begin to question, not just whether the people who look like their friend are truly so foreign, but whether anyone in their community can really be so foreign. Whether the Other is conceptually relevant; so begins the "racial revulsion of white voters" stage.

Migration, integration, immigration, birth rates, and an increasingly open, knowledge-based economy cause the Southern Strategy to turn from electoral success-maker to the GOP's Achilles heel. Where, since 1960, the Republican Party has made a net profit at the ballot box through racism (initially overt, now subtle -- hear Lee Attwater), the balance sheet has shifted. Expressing racism not only costs almost all minority voters, but causes revulsion in an increasing number of white voters. The migration of previously ghettoised or otherwise concentrated or invisible minorities into the neighbourhoods, jobs, schools and lives of the ruling class shifts the electoral calculus, such that racists, sexists, and homophobes repel, not the obvious targets of their hate, but the broader community. So long as a Southern Strategy continues -- by will or by habit -- it will not serve to attract the majority by repelling the minority, but to weld the minority and a repelled segment of the majority into a super-majority. An agglomeration of and for the just, against economically and socially regressed injustice. The entrenched, racially and sexually radical views of a segment of the Republican Party and the recently-labelled conservative entertainment complex have an expiration date that can be measured in generations.

Despite a chorus of dissent for the concept of electoral momentum, I think the idea has meaning. Put differently, if Mitt Romney has a figurative wind at his back, what is its literal incarnation?

I position electoral momentum within the news cycle, which I have said is neither "24 hour" nor instantaneous. One news cycle is the focus by news media on a single topic/thread/meme (t/t/m) until a related t/t/m emerges with the potency to displace the former -- this is an inflection point, and it moves polls.

The release around Sept 17 of Mitt Romney's "47%" video was a clear inflection point that was widely felt to have secured re-election for the president. But while there was an unmistakable polling trend in favour of Barack Obama following this, another inflection point occurred on Oct 3 as a result of a discrete event -- the 90 minute Colorado debate. When the cameras in Colorado were shut off, Mitt Romney's prospects began to climb daily for more than a week. This begs the key question: why did a great mass of voters only begin to think more favourably of Mitt Romney on Oct 7, for instance? Why did another mass of voters not feel more favourably toward Romney on Oct 7, but did so on Oct 9?

The answer, I believe, is simple if you view the news cycle as a weekly TV drama. From the voter's vantage point, both the 47% video and the Oct 3 debate (and Romney's Benghazi remarks, for that matter) are dramas not unlike an episode of Grey's Anatomy, or other program. Over each week, these voters cross paths with a selection of their acquaintances once: e.g., taking a kid to a ballet recital, attending an ad hoc meeting at work, having lunch with a colleague. These encounters require a topic of conversation, and -- just as Grey's gossip can fill this role, so too can political developments. Thus, there is a multiplier -- the initial news development recurs in a cascade of conversations across the electorate. These conversations educate those who missed the initial news, affirm views, change views, expand knowledge, etc. From the initial pebble toss there is a ripple over about a week.

The Colorado debate t/t/m multiplier, like all trends, faded away, helped in part by the strong Democratic performances in the vice presidential and remaining two presidential debates. But while it lasted, an enormous number of people's views were changed -- in my opinion -- by trusted acquaintances, while at lunches and outside ballet rehearsals.

Edit -- this post is a focused re-write of my Oct 10 post "The very long news cycle"

Mitt Romney's strong performance in the first presidential debate this year did not, as of today, cause a spike in his poll results, but rather a steady increase. Which begs the question: if 40 million people watched the 90 minute debate, why would some voters wait a week to change their mind?

I think the answer is in the dynamic of the news cycle.


People use the term "24 hour news cycle", but I think a better analogy is the weekly TV drama. If you're in a part of the population that likes Grey's Anatomy, for example, then perhaps your friends are as well. And after each weekly episode -- and particularly after an emotionally riveting episode -- you don't just turn off the experience at the end of the hour. You talk about it at work the next day. And if your kid has ballet on Thursdays, you talk about it with the adults there. And with the other friends you encounter on the weekend. For the Grey's Anatomy segment, the ripple lasts precisely a week -- until the next episode, at which time interest in the previous episode dies.

Similarly, Mitt Romney's debate performance experienced a multiplier over the last week, likely through millions of conversations as people who encounter other politically-engaged acquaintances need a topic for their conversation.

The same occurred with the 47% video, which had a negative multiplier effect for Mitt Romney, as did his Libya remarks, which were only interrupted by the 47% video. But if there had been an unrelated interruption to the news cycle -- in the example above, perhaps a Grey's Anatomy actor got married -- the previous story would die.

Hours before the VP debate, the game is different. If Biden wins conclusively, the "strong Romney debate / weak Obama debate" story will die and Romney's numbers, I think, will stop moving up. If Ryan wins or the result is inconclusive, the debate story remains ascendant and Romney's trajectory continues. And if a major political event occurs, on the level of the Benghazi attack, the debate story will die.

From the Sky Down is no starmaker machinery, but the naked intelligence of four North Dubliners who earned billions and altered world events because they decided reinvention must keep happening. The construction of the song, One, is depicted over 12 concurrent minutes from a failed bridge in Mysterious Ways. The unadorned lead singer told TIFF, "No one wants to see how they make sausages," and it's perhaps untrue in this case because the audience understands that, at TIFF, stardom is identical to prices at Wal Mart and odour at KFC; it is a metal-desk trade show of film editors and screenwriters and other ugly, methodical, and disciplined people who shake like a wet dog when pixie dust is applied. He, the lead singer, said that Sid Viscious and all the others were products of art school. I don't know if I understand what that means -- Paul Hewson and company are products of places like Cedarwood Park, Ballymun. I spent my third birthday on that street. U2 was not art at all, but the musical version of Lance Armstrong's annual cycle of test mountains.




For some reason, Brian Mulroney worked the room.



.

A blonde, bushy ponytail pulls his mop straight, revealing a pale forehead – a billboard endorsement for white-bread. His round glasses belong on the nose of a pre-Confederation country doctor. His hillbilly sideburns do not.

His name is Mr. Lonely and he plays a tinny piano for northern Ontario's most accomplished glam rock-star – an organist in a canuck-cabaret.

When he plays, it is as two parts.

His head is all-stoic. Far from the bawdy majesty centre stage, it sways and nods softly, channelling the two-dimensional spirit of Schroeder. But his concentration is no cartoon; his eardrums, his eyes, his throat – all go together as though joined with copper.

That part of him is as spiritually solid as a maple; as a tree whose crooked twigs skip and quiver with every rising wind.

Ten crooked twigs: tapping and sliding, stabbing and soaring. Their little frenzy powers the outward spectacle.

And then, when the encores are over and the bathrooms get busy, Mr. Lonely is often found near the door, fingers, hands, head, hair – all hopelessly lost amongst the glittery groupies.

-- Mr. Lonely, aka, Todd Lumley, is a Canadian pianist best known for his work with Hawksley Workman. In December 2001, I passed him on a street in Paris, but did not introduce myself. I wrote this in 2006.

My 2009 Timex Ironman watch has two features that my 1988 version did not: an "Indiglo" back-light and something called an "occasion" tracker. What it does not have is a music player, Bluetooth/wifi/USB, a high resolution display, memory or apps. The price was about the same.

Over the same period, portable music advanced from the cassette-playing Walkman to the iPod Nano. I appreciate that one company might stick with its strong brand, but how can no competitor emerge over the same era?

I wrote several years ago my affinity for what I called "fridge books" -- tablets. I think watches offer an opportunity for innovation -- an unexploited piece of real estate on human flesh. As a micro-dashboard, these smart watches will connect to and complement smart phones, conveying information at a glance; when it takes a tenth of a second to look at something, withdrawing and unlocking your phone does actually add up. A smart watch may show:

• The song you're listening to on your phone (and let you skip it)
• Who is calling you
• Which cardinal direction is your mapped destination
• The next step in your route
• The temperature
• How far you have jogged
• Who and what from your circle is close to you (4Square, Geodelic/Around me, etc.)
• A pro sports score
• News headlines
• Where your phone is

It just seems silly that we don't have high-rez colour touch interfaces just to tell us the time; at least not on our wrist. Add in a new category of micro-push content, and demand for innovative new watches will be there.

[Re-printed from an email I just sent]

Not too dramatic inside.

Thinner must be a reaction to the iPad and Kindle/Kobo -- commuters will prefer less fuss.

Glossy magazine-style photo above the fold differentiates from the ugly Kindle visuals.

Quick bites on the cover reflect how we read news online (140 characters?).

Odd thing: the Life section alone has the glossy treatment throughout. Wonder why. Facts & Arguments and Lives Lived on the back cannot be flagship sections -- this is community paper content. I would have used glossy on sports, cars or real estate -- anything where one salivates over a stolen base or aspires to a high priced BMW or home/cottage renovation. Given the decision to go glossy, they pushed it with a funky graphic on L2 -- but why? It supported only a psychologist's opinion on child rearing? Doesn't make sense. Maybe the double page RBC ad in the middle sold them on a glossy Life?

B- overall. But glad they're not dinosaurs. I'm excited to get an iPad one day and see what G&M does there. A nice template would retain the relevance of the masthead; otherwise, you just google individual journalists not publications.