Being “Wrong” in the Socialist Party
I recently quit as editor of The Socialist, the magazine of the Socialist Party. After just two issues, I found the intolerance and general stupidity of many of the Editorial Board members that I had to work with too frustrating to continue. There’s real work that has to be done for the movement, and I am no longer willing to waste my time on fruitless endeavors.
I’m thinking about leaving the party altogether, but that’s a much tougher decision to make, as I have been a member for nearly ten years – since I was 17 years old.
Clearing out my archives, I find an article that I wrote for the journal of the party’s 100th anniversary conference in 2001. At the time, I was being hounded out of office by a caucus of pinheads. I could still find virtue in the party back then. I post it now for a strange sense of reassurance.
Among the Socialist Party’s many virtues over the last one hundred years has been its ability, and the ability of its members, to be wrong. Multi-tendency before there was even a word for such a thing, the party has always been home to wildly divergent opinions and the occasional faction fight. With so many different factions and tendencies, somebody has to be wrong at any given moment. I find this so reassuring.
The party’s early right-wing, made up of Social Democratic politicians in the modern European sense, over-emphasized voting and cynically limited their union activity to cajoling striking workers to “Vote Socialist!” Too often they embraced mainstream racism and xenophobia. Most curiously, they aggressively opposed the Industrial Workers of the World and led a crusade to expel from the party Wobblies who advocated “direct action” (then more confused with violent terrorism than today). Still, they couldn’t be all wrong. They won office and enacted legislation. Clearly, masses of people supported them.
One of my greatest heroes is “Big Bill” Haywood, the most prominent Wobbly to be expelled, precisely because of his wrong decisions. In the SP, he exacerbated the rightwing with vague and irresponsible talk of “direct action” that hinted at violence, precisely the type that he eschewed within the IWW. It was almost as though he wanted to be martyred rather than face a frustrating faction fight, or maybe he was just a natural contrarian (Our party’s had plenty of them, too). On strike, Haywood counseled a crude sort of pre-Gandhian civil disobedience. It’s his greatest legacy.
His worst legacy is that he fled to Russia to avoid a long prison term for opposing the war. This is why I sympathize with “Big Bill.” Disillusioned by his government, which had usually vindicated him when he was innocent (at least until whatever “crisis” that put him in jail had been averted), and by his own IWW, which had rejected him, Haywood went to the one place where he would be least appreciated: Bolshevik Russia! It was the sort of stupid mistake that comes from wounded pride and that any one of us can and does make.
Sam Friedman, who died six years too soon for me to meet him, is another SP character that I enjoy. Maybe it’s because he did so many things that I have done (Chaired the New York local, edited the NY Call – at a time when it was actually impressive to do such things) or would like to do (He organized a mutual aid society that helped bail party activists out of jail and pay legal bills). Maybe it was because he was such a set-in-his-ways pain in the ass. He stuck with Social Democrats, USA in the 1973 split because he did not believe in splits and they technically won the final vote. He hated their politics and stayed close to the SP so he could be around people who still used the “S” word. He telegrammed the party’s 1983 convention: “DEEPLY REGRET INABILITY TO ATTEND. DISAGREEING WITH SOME OF YOUR JUDGEMENTS AND CONCLUSIONS, I STILL ADMIRE AND LOVE YOUR TENACITY, COURAGE AND DEVOTION TO SOCIALIST PRINCIPLES. MORE POWER TO YOU.”
It’s a great encouragement to read in Rob Tucker’s brief history that Eugene V. Debs had such personal animosity towards Daniel Deleon and mistrusted anyone recently associated with him. Debs, too, is a hero, but in history books he comes across as too perfect. Saints belong in the Bible, not the Socialist Party. It’s the Eugene Debs who said, “While there is a lower class I, am in it; While there is a criminal element, I am of it; and while there is a soul in prison I am not free” that inspired me to join the Socialist Party, but it’s the Eugene Debs who called Daniel Deleon a “black-hearted scoundrel” that I can relate to.
I Want Candy
When I was younger, my favorite treat at the candy shops in the malls was the red licorice shoelace. I’d tie them into knots and gobble them up before I’d make it to the parking lot. I have been craving them for some time, and I think I may never taste them again.
The problem is that, a number of years ago, some genius and his focus groups decided to change the formula for the red shoelace licorice, making it taste like Twizzlers. Extensive field research has brought me to the conclusion that all shoelace licorice throughout the malls of America is produced in the same factory, by the same Oompa Loompa gulag, because it all tastes like Twizzlers. If I want a Twizzler, I’ll buy a goddamn Twizzler. I really don’t understand this switch, as a business decision. Why be just like a ubiquitous, multi-million dollar product?
Two years ago, I discovered at Penn Station a candy from Necco called Danish Ribbons that, lo and behold, tasted just like shoelace licorice. I bought a roll just about every day on the way home to the Long Island Rail Road. Unfortunately, this only lasted a few weeks before Hudson News stopped carrying it. My recent internet sleuthing has revealed that the candy has been discontinued. Curse you, candy oligarchs!
It’s a bitter reminder of another traumatic candy loss: the original Good and Fruity. Good and Fruity is the sweeter sequel product to the candy covered black licorice product, Good and Plenty. The original Good and Fruity was candy covered red licorice, but many years ago, before shoelace went Twizzler, Good and Fruity replaced its licorice filling with jelly bean-like goo.
So, I’ve been on the search for another candy with that old licorice flavor. I have tried Kookaburra licorice (tastes like gelatinous fruit snacks), Panda licorice (tastes like prunes), Finska licorice (tastes like fruit roll-ups). I’m running out of options. I’ve been searching various “olde tyme candy shoppe” websites, but flavor is a hard thing to describe. One promises red licorice laces that are “not the shiny red ‘licorice’ laces that taste like those famous spiral red licorice sticks. Instead ‘Old Fashioned’ tasting laces from our youth.” I have my doubts. In any event, I can’t figure out how to order them.
I’m intrigued by Red Vines, since some descriptions have hinted that they might be the flavor I’m looking for. Besides, I have heard that Red Vines plus Mr. Pibb equals crazy delicious (of course, neither of those products can actually be purchased in New York on a lazy Sunday or any other day).
It has been suggested to me that perhaps the only way that I will ever taste real red licorice laces again is to launch a campaign, but I think I have my hands full with other, more pressing campaigns. So get to work, Internet! Launch the online petitions. Start the blogs. Let’s get some banner ads. You can do it!
And if you can’t, then hopefully my crazy pregnant woman cravings will switch back to pickles in a few days.
Bill O’Reilly’s Flying Circus
Four years ago, I was a guest on the “O’Reilly Factor,” part of a panel discussion on the income gap. It was a wonderfully surreal moment that, alas, I have yet to repeat. I just stumbled upon a transcript of the show. Below is a pretty funny bit that I believe is short enough that I can legally quote it.
Missing here is O’Reilly’s assertion that Cornell University is a socialist plot, “Parade” editor and DNC Treasurer Andrew Tobias inviting me to join the Democratic party, and, finally, Mr. O’Reilly brusquely ending the segment and announcing that Mel Gibson would be next after the commercials.
O’REILLY: OK, but here’s the deal. And you ought to know this, too, Shaun, is that for many years, I didn’t make any money. OK? And I lived in my younger time in a very frugal environment. OK? So I don’t believe that the government has the right, now that I’m successful, due to hard work and some luck, to come into my house and take my money and give it to other people, and they don’t even know what these people are going to do with it. That’s wrong, morally wrong.
…
RICHMAN: Are you living in poverty as a result of this 50 percent [tax rate]?
O’REILLY: Am I living in poverty? No, but what right do you or anybody else have, even in France, to take other peoples’ money and give it to somebody you don’t know? What right do you have, morally?
RICHMAN: It’s a basic system of fairness. Now when you weren’t making that money…
O’REILLY: Yes.
RICHMAN: When you were living in dire straits, wouldn’t it have been nicer to have a system where…
O’REILLY: No, I wouldn’t have taken a dime.
RICHMAN: You wouldn’t have taken a dime?
O’REILLY: No. Absolutely not.
RICHMAN: You would have died of tuberculosis?
O’REILLY: That’s right. And I wouldn’t have kids unless I could support them. That’s right, because I don’t believe in taking other peoples’ stuff and giving it to me. I won’t even take Social Security when I’m older. I’ll give it back or I’ll give it to charity. You see? That’s where you guys are wrong. You’re taking stuff, you’re making value judgments. You’re giving it to other people and you don’t know what those other people are going to do. That’s wrong. Am I wrong?
Why did they never invite me back?
“…the lines sag heavy and deep tonight…”
So, Friday, March 3 is my birthday. I’ll be turning 27. If I were a rockstar, I’d be about to die, but I’m a union organizer so I’ll merely get balder and fatter.
I’d like to see my friends, particularly those of you that I have not seen much lately (those of you that I have seen, I’m frankly getting sick of you).
Being an extensive party planner, I’m probably just going to go to Botanica at happy hour and hope to see you at some point.