Purple Tulips

 

Okay, I’ve been waiting a few hours to respond, since I first saw this post on my mobile at work.

Last year I was unemployed for a while, and I was desperate for a job. I was applying willy nilly to anything on Idealist and the like for which I was remotely qualified, overqualified, or just nearly qualified. Mostly nonprofits, but a lot of stuff as well.

And after about six months of unemployment, I get an email from Nancy Jacobson of an outfit called No Labels (incidentally, with the most appalling email conventions ever), asking if I wanted to come in for an interview. Now, I was applying to about twenty job postings a day, which is why I am so glad that I keep a detailed spreadsheet of every job I apply to, complete with a link to the original job posting, because I couldn’t remember this application from the hundreds of others I had sent out.

And I looked it up, trying to figure out what the hell I had applied to in the first place. And I spent a good hour on their website, trying to figure what it was that they were about, and what it was that they stood for. I may be desperate, but I’m not going to work for the NRA or an organization whose beliefs I abhor. But I couldn’t figure out their beliefs, and at six months you get more desperate than you can realize.

So we talk on the phone briefly, and I say "Sure, I’ll come in for an interview." The date comes up, and I drive over in my only suit, find their address in Georgetown. It’s the second floor of a Century 21 building (or some other realtor). And when I go upstairs, I can see that the office is barely an office. There’s some rooms, a bunch of open spaces, a lot of drywall barely hung. There are some earnest people working on computers, a couple people taking calls, but a lot of it is empty. And I’m just wandering around, trying to find the person I’m supposed to meet. No one even bothers me as I wander from open space to open space, and get caught in some sort of weird spiral hallway that spins into itself.

Now, before the interview I had done my due diligence. I had gone to the website, and spent a lot of time there. I had googled, and researched, and tried to read as much as I could. But this was before their big launch and there was basically no information available other than their website, which was so devoid of actual content that I thought it might have been some clever design student’s portfolio. Lorem ipsum would have given me more to go on. And I had researched Nancy Jacobson, and found out that she was the wife of Mark Penn, which in my mind is never a good sign. But I wasn’t even meeting with Nancy, I was meeting with someone else, whose name I will keep out since she is not a public figure.

So I’m in that office, there to interview for a job that is your typical DC job description, which is to say so broad as to be meaningless, and for an organization that I have no clue about (but not for lack of trying). I finally meet the person I’m supposed to meet, after wandering around and asking random people since there was no front desk to stop at.

The interview starts, and we’re sitting at some sort of high drafting or design table that one sees in satire. And it goes through the regular kabuki dance that I’ve become familiar with after more interviews than I would care to recall. She gives her spiel about what No Labels is about, what the job is about, questions about my experience. And then we come to the part where she asks if I have any questions.

And I do, oh my yes. I’m trying to ask very delicately, because I do not want to appear stupid. I don’t want to appear as if I haven’t put in the research that I did, that I’m politically unaware (I have spent a good portion of my day reading political news, blogs, and analyses for the last six or seven years), or that I’m just out of it. I ask her sideways maybe three or four times what this is all about.

Me: "So I spent a lot of time researching No Labels, but I can’t quite seem to find any sort of mission statement. No Labels says that it is about bipartisan solutions, but it doesn’t actually say what problems it is trying to find solutions for, or what form those solutions might take."
Her: "No Labels is about bringing together the left and the right to make the country work again."
Me: "Yes, but it doesn’t say what that means. People have differing opinions about a number of issues. Some don’t even agree that certain things are issues. When it comes to healthcare, some think the system works fine. Others think it is a shambles and must be reformed. But that second group is further split by people who think that the system should be reformed this way or that. People disagree, and that is why we have partisanship."
Her: "Exactly, and No Labels is about cutting through that divide, to end the partisan bickering in Washington. We’re trying to get 25,000 people to join our Facebook group before our launch so we can find out what people want."
Me: "Pardon? So you’re saying that you don’t really have any aims or goals? You’re trying to get people to join before you even start, to find out what you’re about?"

This goes back and forth for a while. I’m just trying to get her nailed down about one issue. Not even what her stand on issues are, just what issues No Labels is about, what it wants to address. No dice. It’s getting awkward, and I’ve already decided that I don’t want this job, but I’m enjoying this. It’s ridiculous, and I just want to point that out to someone.

Me: "So you’re going to get people together, gather their information, form an advocacy group, and then decide what you’re advocating for? I’m sorry, but that sounds like you’re trying to get a gun, and you’re going to decide who you are shooting later. Thank you, I’ll see myself out."

fin

And that’s the thing about these Third Way type organizations. Is partisanship a problem? It can be when fuckall gets done. Or when some really terrible things get done. I’m a liberal guy, I have beliefs and opinions. And when I see an organization that is simply about bipartisanship for bipartisanship’s sake, I start to feel an itch behind my eyes that tells me they are full of shit. They’re about collecting people’s names, numbers, and email addresses to sell off later. They are there for some person to exercise power just to exercise power. It’s idiotic.
posted by X-Himy at 3:35 PM on December 16 [39 favorites]

So, in keeping with that theme, Blu and Exile reunited with no advance notice. "Give Me My Flowers While I Can Smell Them" has had no press lead-in. There are no videos or interviews. The producer and rapper quietly put it up on Bandcamp late last week. It's on sale for the almost comically high price of $15, especially considering it's unmastered. But for those who loved "Below the Heavens," it's a solid return to form.

As with Dilla and Common, Hi-Tek and Talib Kweli, there's just a natural chemistry between Blu and Exile that invites easy comparisons. Give both men credit. They're obviously aware of the expectations this sort of thing invites. So, rather than feel like a make-or-break proposition, "Give Me My Flowers" feels like a welcome pop-in from a longtime friend. Reportedly recorded in 2009, this is the sound of Blu and Exile catching up, with familial ease. It's loose and relaxed and there's talk of delivery cheesecake and Michel Gondry films. 

It remains to be seen whether it will earn a psychic foothold like its predecessors, but it's already better than getting a backpack under the tree.

ALSO:

Exile on Melrose

Blu & Exile (briefly) reunite on Exile's new LP

The jagged Low End rap of Blu's 'NoYork!' mixtape

– Jeff Weiss

Photo: Blu & Exile. Credit: Exile's Facebook page

Purple Tulips

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