If you don't live in Southern California—or if you do, but have a life—you might not be aware of Club 33, a "secret" club at Disneyland coveted by the rich and famous as a hideway from the hoi polloi at the park. (And, not coincidentally, the only place at Disneyland that serves alcoholic beverages.) It's so coveted, in fact, that there's no waiting list for membership. Years ago, it got so long that Disneyland just closed it.
For access to what is billed as "the most exclusive address in all of Disneyland" — Club 33 — many members pay $11,000 a year....The current uproar has to do with how many extra VIP cards are allotted to platinum members.
The cards allow a lucky few to enjoy many of the benefits of a member, including access to Disney parks and dining at the secretive Club 33 restaurant, tucked away in Disneyland's New Orleans Square....But last week, platinum members received a letter that said in 2015 only the member and a spouse or domestic partner would have Club 33 benefits, while the price for the platinum level would rise to $12,000....A current platinum VIP cardholder was enraged. "It really has just turned to a money game for them."
OMG! "It really has just turned to a money game for them." This is mighty rich coming from someone who is almost certainly wealthy as hell and probably considers himself a rock-jawed supporter of laissez-faire capitalism. But if Disneyland raises the price and changes the terms of a product that obviously has far more demand than supply, why, it's just an example of a bunch of ruthless money-grubbers taking advantage of the downtrodden. How dare they?
Plus he's dead wrong anyway. First of all, last I looked Disney was a public corporation widely admired in the business world for its money-making prowess. Of course it's a money game for them. Second, the waiting list for Club 33 is so long that it's closed. Quite plainly, they could double or triple the price of a platinum card and keep their membership at the same level. In other words, if they really were just ruthless money-grubbers, they could instantly double or triple their revenues for Club 33 with the stroke of a pen. The fact that they haven't done this clearly suggests some combination of loyalty to longtime members along with an understandable desire to avoid a PR headache.
Anyway, that's Orange County for you. Home of conservative Republicans who have an abiding faith in the free market when they're the ones setting the rules, but get in a snit when they themselves end up on the business end of the not-so-invisible hand. You can file this under the shockingly thin skins of the rich when they aren't treated with the fawning deference they all think is their birthright.
UPDATE: Here's a note for aficionados of behavioral economics. As near as I can tell, the outrage here is not over the modest 9 percent price increase. It's over the loss of a perk. This is an example of people responding far more strongly to loss than to gain. And in this case it's especially irksome because it's the loss of a perk that allows a member to very publicly show off their status. "Going to Disneyland? Here, why don't you take one of my VIP cards and eat at Club 33. It's great." This is a chance to do a favor for someone and show off your ownership of a normally invisible status symbol that money can't buy. But now it's gone.
Last week, Hilbert got catblogging all to himself. This week it's Hopper's turn. Marian took this picture of Hopper gazing out the kitchen window with the bird bath in the background—and that's no coincidence. The bird bath and the hummingbird feeders are objects of endless fascination.
In other news, I have a follow-up from last week. Now that he's taken its measure, it turns out that Hilbert can jump onto the fireplace mantle with ease. No furious runup necessary. However, it also turns out that having taken its measure, he's now bored with it. There's no challenge left, I guess. So the mantle is safe once again. Maybe. Until he gets bored. Welcome to kittenland.
Until the country came to be governed by serial brinksmanship, the writing and passage of annual spending bills weren’t huge stories in American politics, and you had to be unusually attuned to both the content and the process to understand the political currents underlying both. When problems arose, there was always the palliative of earmarks to smooth things over.
But the narrow passage Thursday night of a big spending bill in the House of Representatives brought everything to the surface, even though the risk of a government shutdown was near zero.
I think that's only part of the story. It's true that as recently as a decade ago, spending bills didn't have a big audience. Genuine insiders—aides, lobbyists, single-issue activists—paid attention to the minutiae, but most of us didn't. More to the point, most of us couldn't. Even if you were the kind of person who read TNR and National Review and Roll Call religiously, you just weren't going to be exposed to that much coverage.
This wasn't because budgets were more boring back then. Or because the political shenanigans were less egregious. It's because print publications didn't devote very much space to them. You'd get the basics, but that was it. And given the limitations of print production schedules, the drama of watching deals rise and fall on a daily or hourly basis simply wasn't possible in real time.
But the often maligned rise of blogs and Twitter, along with their new media offshoots, has created a whole new world. Over at Vox, for example, they ran nine pieces about the spending bill just yesterday. If you follow the right people, Twitter will keep you literally up to minute on even the smallest issues. Dozens of blogs will explain the policy implications of obscure provisions. Politico will flood the zone with pieces about conflicts and personalities as the fight unfolds.
By normal standards, the spending bill the House passed yesterday was fairly routine. But digital media turned it into High Noon and we all played along. We pretended that this was something uniquely shameless, when it wasn't. The sausage has always been made this way. The only difference is that now we all have box seats on the factory floor.
I don't have a lot to say about this, but I wanted to pass along this chart from Chris Mooney over at Wonkblog. Basically, it shows that although both supply and demand for oil have been roughly in sync for the past five years, demand abruptly dropped earlier this year and is projected to stay low next year. This is why prices have dropped so far: not because supply has skyrocketed thanks to fracking—the supply trendline is actually fairly smooth—but because the world is using less oil.
This is a short-term blip, and I don't want to make too much of it. Still, regular readers will remember that one of the biggest problems with oil isn't high prices per se. The world can actually get along OK with high oil prices. The problem is spikes in oil prices caused by sudden imbalances between supply and demand. Historically this wasn't a big problem because potential supply was much higher than demand. If demand went up, the Saudis and others just opened up the taps a bit and everything was back in balance.
But that hasn't been true for a while. There's very little excess capacity these days, so if oil supply drops due to war or natural disaster, it can result in a very sudden spike in prices. And that can lead to economic chaos. But if demand has fallen significantly below supply, it means we now have excess capacity again. And if we have excess capacity, it means that the price of oil can be managed. It will still go up and down, but it's less likely to unexpectedly spike upward. And this in turn means that, at least in the near future, oil is unlikely to derail the economic recovery. It's a small but meaningful piece of good news.
The worst part of the "cromnibus" spending bill was the provision that guts a small piece of the Dodd-Frank financial reform bill and allows banks to get back into the custom swaps business. So why did Democratic negotiators agree to this? In a long tick-tock published yesterday, Politico tells us:
During  negotiations with House Appropriations Chairman Hal Rogers (R-Ky.), Barbara Mikulski (D-Md.), his Senate counterpart, agreed to keep the provision in exchange for more funding for the Commodity Futures Trading Commission and the Securities and Exchange Commission, according to aides.
OK. Democrats have been ambivalent about this particular provision of Dodd-Frank from the start, and therefore they were willing to cut a deal that allowed Republicans to repeal it. But what about the rest of the spending bill? Republicans got a bunch of venal little favors inserted, but what did Democrats get? Here's retiring Rep. Jim Moran:
In 20 years of being on the appropriations bill, I haven’t seen a better compromise in terms of Democratic priorities. Implementing the Affordable Care Act, there’s a lot more money for early-childhood development — the only priority that got cut was the EPA but we gave them more money than the administration asked for....There were 26 riders that were extreme and would have devastated the Environmental Protection Agency in terms of the Clean Water and Clean Air Act administration; all of those were dropped. There were only two that were kept and they wouldn’t have been implemented this fiscal year. So, we got virtually everything that the Democrats tried to get.
The Administration appreciates the bipartisan effort to include full-year appropriations legislation for most Government functions that allows for planning and provides certainty, while making progress toward appropriately investing in economic growth and opportunity, and adequately funding national security requirements. The Administration also appreciates the authorities and funding provided to enhance the U.S. Government’s response to the Ebola epidemic, and to implement the Administration’s strategy to counter the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant, as well as investments for the President’s early education agenda, Pell Grants, the bipartisan Manufacturing Institutes initiative, and extension of the Trade Adjustment Assistance program.
What's the point of posting this laundry list? Curiosity. Last night a reader sent a tweet to me: "Honest question: what do progressives get out of this? 'Govt not shutting down' not enough." I was stumped. I really had no idea whether Democrats had gotten anything in this bill, or if they were just caving in to a whole bunch of obnoxious Republican demands merely in exchange for keeping the government funded.
But as it turns out, Democrats did get a bunch of stuff they wanted. And of course, that's in addition to getting the government funded before Republicans take over Congress in January, which is worthwhile all by itself. We can each decide for ourselves whether Democrats got enough, or if they should have held out for a better deal, but they weren't left empty-handed.
So what I'm curious about is this: why are virtually no Democrats talking about this? As near as I can tell, there was literally no attempt to sell this compromise to the base, or to anyone else. As a result, the general feeling among progressives is simple: this bill was an unqualified cave-in from gutless Democrats who, once again, refused to fight back against Republican hostage taking. And as usual, Republicans won.
I understand that trying to defend a messy, backroom bill that trades some dull but responsible victories for a bunch of horrible little giveaways isn't very appealing to anyone. And who knows? Maybe Democrats were afraid that if they crowed too much about the concessions they'd won it would just provoke the tea party wing of the Republican party and scuttle the bill. The tea partiers were already plenty pissed off about the cromnibus, after all.
Still, shouldn't someone have been in charge of quietly making the progressive case for this bill? It wouldn't have convinced everyone, but it might have reduced the grumbling within the base a little bit. Why was that not worth doing?
Like all of us, I've had to spend the past several days listening to a procession of stony-faced men—some of them defiant, others obviously nervous—grimly trying to defend the indefensible, and I'm not sure how much more I can take. How hard is this, after all? Following 9/11, we created an extensive and cold-blooded program designed to inflict severe pain on prisoners in order to break them and get them to talk. That's torture. It always has been, and even a ten-year-old recognizes that legalistic rationalizations about enemy combatants, "serious" physical injury, and organ failure are transparent sophistry. Of course we inflicted severe pain. Moderate pain would hardly induce anyone to talk, would it? And taking care not to leave permanent marks doesn't mean it's not torture, it just means you're trying to make sure you don't get caught.
Christ almighty. Either you think that state-sanctioned torture of prisoners is beyond the pale for a civilized country or you don't. No cavils. No resorts to textual parsing. And no exceptions for "we were scared." This isn't a gray area. You can choose to stand with history's torturers or you can choose to stand with human decency. Pick a side.
Dylan Matthews, after running down all the obnoxious amendments to the omnibus spending bill currently wending its way through Congress, wonders aloud if it's still worth supporting:
If you're Barack Obama, or a liberal Democrat generally, most of these riders are setbacks, in some cases significant ones. Indeed, Obama's condemned the Dodd-Frank and campaign finance provisions. He could, in theory, reject the deal and demand that Congress send him a bill without changes to Dodd-Frank, or one that doesn't meddle in DC's affairs, etc. And yet he has come out in favor of House passage of the bill.
Is he making a massive mistake?
This is one of those things that demonstrates the chasm between political activists and analysts on the one side, and working politicians on the other. If you take a look at the bill, it does indeed have a bunch of objectionable features. People like me, with nothing really at stake, can bitch and moan about them endlessly. But you know what? For all the interminable whining we do about the death of bipartisanship in Washington, this is what bipartisanship looks like. It always has. It's messy, it's ugly, and it's petty. Little favors get inserted into bills to win votes. Other favors get inserted as payback for the initial favors. Special interests get stroked. Party whips get a workout.
That's politics. The fact that it's happening right now is, in a weird sense, actually good news. It means that, for a few days at least, politics is working normally again.
I understand that this sounds very Slatepitchy. But it's true. Even at its best, politics is lubricated by venality, ego, and mutual backscratching. And you know what? By the normal standards of this kind of stuff, the obnoxious riders in the current spending bill are pretty mild. Really. The only one that rises above the level of a political misdemeanor is the provision that allows banks to get back into the custom swaps business, and even that's hardly the end of the world. Swaps may have provided a tailwind to the 2008 financial collapse, but they were far from its core cause.
So should working politicians avert their gaze from the muck and vote to keep the government functioning? Of course they should. Government shutdowns are immensely costly in their own right, after all. This kind of crass calculus sucks, but that's human nature for you. All things considered, I'd say we all got off fairly easy this time around.
Total retail sales rose 0.7 percent in November, as holiday shopping began, and that came despite a sharp tumble in gasoline prices that reduced the dollar value of sales at gas stations by 0.8 percent. Analysts had expected a rise of only 0.4 percent.
....The November retail sales number could well be a fluke. But only 11 days into December, here is a partial list of readings on the economy that have handily beat already-strong analyst forecasts: Institute for Supply Management’s survey of manufacturing firms; its survey of nonmanufacturing firms; motor vehicle sales; construction spending; job growth; wage growth; and now retail sales. The only major piece of data that has been disappointing was a negative report this week on factory orders, a volatile series of data.
I'm not quite as excited by the wage growth number as Irwin, but it's true that recent economic news has been distinctively more positive than in the past. As usual, my biggest worry is whether weakness in Europe and China is going to derail things, and it's too early to tell just how serious a concern that is. For now, though, things are finally looking up. Huzzah.
Boy howdy, we've proven that quite a few times, haven't we? In any case, I'm genuinely interested in Perry's candidacy. Back in 2012, when he first got into the race and was being lauded as practically unbeatable, I wrote a post listing the top ten reasons that Perry was weaker than everyone thought. For reference, here's the nickel version of the list:
Everyone looks good before they get into the race.
He's too Texan.
He's too mean.
He's too dumb.
He's too smarmy.
He's too overtly religious.
Policywise, he's too radical, even for Republicans.
Despite conventional wisdom, about half of the GOP rank-and-file aren't tea party sympathizers.
Perry's campaign is going to be heavily based on the "Texas miracle."
Republicans want to beat Obama. They really, really want to beat Obama. Romney is still their best chance.
Obviously #1 is no longer a factor. Perry has run before, and expectations this time around are suitably modest. And #10 doesn't apply this year. Of the remaining eight, I'd say he's rather noticeably working to soften #2, #3, #4, #6 (maybe), and #7. And this in turn also means he's trying to reach out beyond his tea party base (#8). In other words, he seems to be keenly aware of the weaknesses that got my attention in 2012 and is explicitly trying to overcome them.
Does this mean he can win this time around? Not at all, and for various reasons I'd still bet against him. But despite the fact that his star has waned compared to 2012, I'd say his chances are actually better this time around. After all, he's still a very savvy politician—and although I don't know how high his IQ is, it's high enough. If he's got the self-discipline to stick to his reinvented self and not make any dumb mistakes, he could be formidable in the Republican primaries next year.
Our new $1 trillion spending bill1 contains a provision that allows donors to give ten times more money to political parties than in the past. This may or may not be a good thing. Jonathan Bernstein, for example, tells us that some experts on campaign finance consider formal party organizations (as opposed to independent Super PACs) to be "a force for pragmatism and against extremism." So more money flowing in that direction might be a net benefit.
Neither party’s leaders in Congress would claim responsibility for inserting the new provision, which was tucked into the final pages of the more than 1,600-page spending bill on Tuesday evening.
The bare minimum we should expect in an alleged democracy is to know where our laws come from and who sponsored them. Instead, our two major parties, which are normally at each others' throats like rabid dogs, regularly connive to produce the legislative version of a virgin birth whenever the subject is something that benefits politicians themselves. This happens again and again, and it's ridiculous. If Mitch McConnell is truly dedicated to a transparent Senate, how about putting a stop to this nonsense when he takes over next year?
1In case you've been vacationing on Mars, this bill is affectionately known as the Cromnibus, a mashup of CR (continuing resolution) and omnibus. That's because it's an omnibus spending bill that funds lots of agencies in one swoop, but for one particular agency it's merely a short-term continuing resolution. That one agency is Homeland Security, and they get only a CR for now because Republicans consider this a kind of revenge against President Obama for his recent executive order on immigration. Welcome to kindergarten.