September
2004
Wake
Up and Smell the Instant Coffee!
By Cliff Hahn
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Activists hate me. No, I’m
not a right-wing, bible-n-gun toting Republican. Worse, I’m
a lazy progressive.
Though my heart and sensibility have always been in the right—er, left—place,
my actions for the most part have been like a 90-pound shortstop: all field,
no hit.
I am someone who has always been more comfortable dealing with the “small
p” of politics. Though I do play well with others, I don’t join groups,
and never enjoyed sing-alongs, and any activity involving more than four or five
hundred people gives me claustrophobia.
Put me in the “history is a forward, progressive spiral” camp. My
worldview basically has been that of a cynical but deluded optimist: everything
sucks, people are stupid, governments are corrupt, nuclear annihilation is inevitable
but, hey, everything will turn out okay…somehow.
For me, making the connection between “everything sucks” and “everything
will be okay, somehow” was the key moment. Who was going to make everything
okay? Who was going to take care of things? When will Mommy and Daddy be home,
I want cookies and peace!
If, for a moment, I can presume to represent ‘All of Human Kind’ (which
I am prone to do, much to my wife’s annoyance), this is a key development
in my—and humankind’s—progress. To actually rewire our thinking
from “somebody (Mommy and Daddy) is going to come and fix everything,” to “okay,
we’re on our own here in this burning house, the adults are drunk and insane,
so WE have to grow up, and fast!”
Deciding to do more than just registering, voting and having spirited discussions
with like-minded friends, began with the sense that, nope, Godot was not coming.
For me, flipping on the “activist switch” was directly tied in with
the Bush administration’s exploitation of 9/11 and subsequent war on Iraq.
I went to several anti-war marches and each time invited lots of friends. Very
few showed up, feeling that it was pointless to protest or that this was all
just a small w-shaped bump in the road. Being the cynical optimist, I too knew
that the marches wouldn’t stop Bush going to war (only a pretzel could
have done that), but that it was important, as Americans, to show the rest of
the world we weren’t all in support of the P-P-Pres of Bush.
Over time, it became increasingly clear to everyone that our nation was lied
to regarding Iraq. (Even my Bush-loving relatives in Ohio now say “Well,
he lied, but for a good reason!”) If someone tells a big, fat, ugly lie
right to your face and you don’t call them on it—and, in fact, you
reward them for it—it’s a reflection on your character. I came to
view the upcoming election as a test of our national character.
Once I made that determination, it only took a small step to realize that character
begins at home, in the mirror. Yes, that mirror, the one right in front of my
face...and yours. What we choose to do or not do during this time reflects more
than our image, but who we are as a nation, as Americans.
Did I mention this self-directed monologue on character occurred at four in the
morning? I suppose theses things always do. But alas, at about 4:12 that morning,
I started writing. And I kept writing, for three weeks. The end result, I had
written a play about our democracy, Voting for Godot. One part slapstick, one
part C-SPAN, all parts satire, the play is my reaction to the sense that, while
the Dems fiddle, Rome burns. And, hello, can someone unlock this exit door?
Having finished the play, my wife and I decided to produce the show during the
Republican Convention. Since we’re both journalists, it seemed apropos
that we turn to farce, too, alongside the New York Times, CNN and the F-Word
News. Only we’ll be more honest about it. And no groupthink allowed!
Activists will hate it. The play takes more than its fair share of shots at the
Democrats while also lampooning the GOP. Republicans will do what they are hard-wired
to do: seek money and power. You can’t expect a zebra to change its spots
(or something like that) but you can hope that the Democrats can stand up a little
taller. Which I realize is hard to do when you’re bent over, slurping at
the corporate trough.
Centered on two clownish party campaigners, the play follows a mythical candidate
put into the blender of modern campaigning, through polling, fundraising, the
media spotlight and finally our voting machinery itself. Combining broad slapstick
with news-savvy geekiness, the play takes irreverent jabs at both parties, the
media and voters themselves—um, that would be us. It’s not a pretty
mix that comes out—but with a big dash of humor, it might be just what
we need. Voting for Godot is essentially a cautionary comic tale about Democracy:
use it or lose it.
Of course, I wanted to go further than “let’s put on a play.” Along
with the production, my wife and I are registering voters and continue to hand
out pro-democracy information, with a special focus on a provision of the McCain-Feingold
campaign finance reform laws that make it easier for any citizen to run for office.
All of our pro-democracy materials will be given to audience members and packaged
as Voting for Godot’s “Democracy in a Box,” a small ballot
box stuffed with voter advocacy materials and a democracy-themed prize. We Americans
love gimmicks and gifts and ya gotta make Democracy fun!
Will any of these positive political actions make any difference? Who knows?
At least I’ll have bitching rights if things go wrong. One thing is for
sure: once that “activist switch” is on, it spreads from person to
person. Several of the actors who auditioned for our play said that, even though
they weren’t cast in the show, they went out and registered for the first
time. George H.W. Bush called for a thousand points of light; his son lit a million
firecrackers. Burn, baby, burn!
Cliff Hahn formerly ran the New York office of Children’s Express
News
Service, a news organization staffed by youth journalists. For more on Voting
for Godot, see www.votingforgodot.com. For more about Cliff, visit www.cliphy.com.
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