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If television is the nation's mirror, then no two TV characters reflect the intensifying "two Americas" gap better than Chris Matthews and Jimmy McNulty.
A recent New York Times profile of Matthews describes a name-dropping dilettante floating between television studios and cocktail parties. The article documents the MSNBC host's $5-million salary, three Mercedes and house in lavish Chevy Chase, Md. Yet Matthews said, "Am I part of the winner's circle in American life? I don't think so."
That stupefying comment sums up a pervasive worldview in Washington that is hostile to any discussion of class divides. Call it Matthews-ism -- an ideology most recently seen in the brouhaha over Barack Obama's statement about economic dislocation.
The Illinois senator said that when folks feel economically shafted, they get "bitter." Matthews-ism spun the truism into a scandal.
The Washington Post labeled Obama's statements "Bittergate." Tim Russert invited affluent political consultants on "Meet the Press" to analyze the "controversy," with millionaire James Carville saying, "I'm hardly bitter about things." Hillary Clinton called Obama "elitist," ignoring her mansions in Washington and Chappaqua, $109-million income, career as a Wal-Mart board member, and legacy pushing job-killing policies such as NAFTA.
This sickening episode was topped off by ABC's Charles Gibson, who only months ago humiliated himself by insinuating that typical middle-class families make $200,000 a year (95 percent make less). Last week, while moderating a debate, Gibson segued from the "bitter" comment into a tirade against rescinding capital gains tax breaks, implying the proposal would hurt most Americans. This, even though the tax cuts in question delivered the vast majority of their benefits to the richest 1 percent.
By downplaying inequality and couching royalism in middle-class arguments, the Beltway elite pretend there are not two Americas but only one: theirs.
Matthews routinely turns discussions of economic issues into debates about tactics, and then heads home to Chevy Chase telling himself he isn't "part of the winner's circle." Tim Russert asks millionaires to explain working-class struggles, and then reminds viewers he roots for the Buffalo Bills -- as if that proves he speaks for blue-collar America. Hillary Clinton makes a career out of speaking for powerful corporations, and then shows up at an Indiana bar to decry "elitism." Gibson suggests six-figure salaries are common, and then says the masses should worry about rich people like him having to pay slightly higher taxes.
In sum, economic blindness, sports symbols, beery photo ops and uninformed idiocy have become the iconography of working-class solidarity that disguises the ongoing class war.
How could this happen, you ask? How could it not?
Pop culture tells us "The Cosby Show's" economically privileged family represents the ordinary black experience, politics tells us a money-controlled electoral system is "democratic," and pundits tell us that aristocrat George Bush is a "regular guy." Propaganda is ubiquitous -- and it results in Jimmy McNulty.
He is the cop from HBO's "The Wire" -- the quintessential everyman. For a time, he tries to understand politics by watching vapid Matthews-style talk shows, but quickly becomes frustrated. "It doesn't matter who you've got [running for office], none of them has a clue what's really going on," he says, lamenting that politics treats him "like a [expletive] doormat" -- as if the day-to-day challenges he faces are "some stupid game with stupid penny ante stakes."
McNulty may be fictional, but McNulty-ism is a very real reaction to Matthews-ism. When the media responsible for explaining our world deny the existence of the world most of us inhabit, they breed -- yes -- bitterness. And the more the Matthewses treat us McNultys like reality is just "stupid games with stupid penny ante stakes," the wider the gulf between the two Americas will become.
David Sirota is a bestselling author whose newest book, "The Uprising," will be released in June of 2008. He is a fellow at the Campaign for America's Future and a board member of the Progressive States Network-both nonpartisan organizations. His blog is at www.credoaction.com/sirota.
(c) 2008 Creators Syndicate Inc.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
If television is the nation's mirror, then no two TV characters reflect the intensifying "two Americas" gap better than Chris Matthews and Jimmy McNulty.
A recent New York Times profile of Matthews describes a name-dropping dilettante floating between television studios and cocktail parties. The article documents the MSNBC host's $5-million salary, three Mercedes and house in lavish Chevy Chase, Md. Yet Matthews said, "Am I part of the winner's circle in American life? I don't think so."
That stupefying comment sums up a pervasive worldview in Washington that is hostile to any discussion of class divides. Call it Matthews-ism -- an ideology most recently seen in the brouhaha over Barack Obama's statement about economic dislocation.
The Illinois senator said that when folks feel economically shafted, they get "bitter." Matthews-ism spun the truism into a scandal.
The Washington Post labeled Obama's statements "Bittergate." Tim Russert invited affluent political consultants on "Meet the Press" to analyze the "controversy," with millionaire James Carville saying, "I'm hardly bitter about things." Hillary Clinton called Obama "elitist," ignoring her mansions in Washington and Chappaqua, $109-million income, career as a Wal-Mart board member, and legacy pushing job-killing policies such as NAFTA.
This sickening episode was topped off by ABC's Charles Gibson, who only months ago humiliated himself by insinuating that typical middle-class families make $200,000 a year (95 percent make less). Last week, while moderating a debate, Gibson segued from the "bitter" comment into a tirade against rescinding capital gains tax breaks, implying the proposal would hurt most Americans. This, even though the tax cuts in question delivered the vast majority of their benefits to the richest 1 percent.
By downplaying inequality and couching royalism in middle-class arguments, the Beltway elite pretend there are not two Americas but only one: theirs.
Matthews routinely turns discussions of economic issues into debates about tactics, and then heads home to Chevy Chase telling himself he isn't "part of the winner's circle." Tim Russert asks millionaires to explain working-class struggles, and then reminds viewers he roots for the Buffalo Bills -- as if that proves he speaks for blue-collar America. Hillary Clinton makes a career out of speaking for powerful corporations, and then shows up at an Indiana bar to decry "elitism." Gibson suggests six-figure salaries are common, and then says the masses should worry about rich people like him having to pay slightly higher taxes.
In sum, economic blindness, sports symbols, beery photo ops and uninformed idiocy have become the iconography of working-class solidarity that disguises the ongoing class war.
How could this happen, you ask? How could it not?
Pop culture tells us "The Cosby Show's" economically privileged family represents the ordinary black experience, politics tells us a money-controlled electoral system is "democratic," and pundits tell us that aristocrat George Bush is a "regular guy." Propaganda is ubiquitous -- and it results in Jimmy McNulty.
He is the cop from HBO's "The Wire" -- the quintessential everyman. For a time, he tries to understand politics by watching vapid Matthews-style talk shows, but quickly becomes frustrated. "It doesn't matter who you've got [running for office], none of them has a clue what's really going on," he says, lamenting that politics treats him "like a [expletive] doormat" -- as if the day-to-day challenges he faces are "some stupid game with stupid penny ante stakes."
McNulty may be fictional, but McNulty-ism is a very real reaction to Matthews-ism. When the media responsible for explaining our world deny the existence of the world most of us inhabit, they breed -- yes -- bitterness. And the more the Matthewses treat us McNultys like reality is just "stupid games with stupid penny ante stakes," the wider the gulf between the two Americas will become.
David Sirota is a bestselling author whose newest book, "The Uprising," will be released in June of 2008. He is a fellow at the Campaign for America's Future and a board member of the Progressive States Network-both nonpartisan organizations. His blog is at www.credoaction.com/sirota.
(c) 2008 Creators Syndicate Inc.
If television is the nation's mirror, then no two TV characters reflect the intensifying "two Americas" gap better than Chris Matthews and Jimmy McNulty.
A recent New York Times profile of Matthews describes a name-dropping dilettante floating between television studios and cocktail parties. The article documents the MSNBC host's $5-million salary, three Mercedes and house in lavish Chevy Chase, Md. Yet Matthews said, "Am I part of the winner's circle in American life? I don't think so."
That stupefying comment sums up a pervasive worldview in Washington that is hostile to any discussion of class divides. Call it Matthews-ism -- an ideology most recently seen in the brouhaha over Barack Obama's statement about economic dislocation.
The Illinois senator said that when folks feel economically shafted, they get "bitter." Matthews-ism spun the truism into a scandal.
The Washington Post labeled Obama's statements "Bittergate." Tim Russert invited affluent political consultants on "Meet the Press" to analyze the "controversy," with millionaire James Carville saying, "I'm hardly bitter about things." Hillary Clinton called Obama "elitist," ignoring her mansions in Washington and Chappaqua, $109-million income, career as a Wal-Mart board member, and legacy pushing job-killing policies such as NAFTA.
This sickening episode was topped off by ABC's Charles Gibson, who only months ago humiliated himself by insinuating that typical middle-class families make $200,000 a year (95 percent make less). Last week, while moderating a debate, Gibson segued from the "bitter" comment into a tirade against rescinding capital gains tax breaks, implying the proposal would hurt most Americans. This, even though the tax cuts in question delivered the vast majority of their benefits to the richest 1 percent.
By downplaying inequality and couching royalism in middle-class arguments, the Beltway elite pretend there are not two Americas but only one: theirs.
Matthews routinely turns discussions of economic issues into debates about tactics, and then heads home to Chevy Chase telling himself he isn't "part of the winner's circle." Tim Russert asks millionaires to explain working-class struggles, and then reminds viewers he roots for the Buffalo Bills -- as if that proves he speaks for blue-collar America. Hillary Clinton makes a career out of speaking for powerful corporations, and then shows up at an Indiana bar to decry "elitism." Gibson suggests six-figure salaries are common, and then says the masses should worry about rich people like him having to pay slightly higher taxes.
In sum, economic blindness, sports symbols, beery photo ops and uninformed idiocy have become the iconography of working-class solidarity that disguises the ongoing class war.
How could this happen, you ask? How could it not?
Pop culture tells us "The Cosby Show's" economically privileged family represents the ordinary black experience, politics tells us a money-controlled electoral system is "democratic," and pundits tell us that aristocrat George Bush is a "regular guy." Propaganda is ubiquitous -- and it results in Jimmy McNulty.
He is the cop from HBO's "The Wire" -- the quintessential everyman. For a time, he tries to understand politics by watching vapid Matthews-style talk shows, but quickly becomes frustrated. "It doesn't matter who you've got [running for office], none of them has a clue what's really going on," he says, lamenting that politics treats him "like a [expletive] doormat" -- as if the day-to-day challenges he faces are "some stupid game with stupid penny ante stakes."
McNulty may be fictional, but McNulty-ism is a very real reaction to Matthews-ism. When the media responsible for explaining our world deny the existence of the world most of us inhabit, they breed -- yes -- bitterness. And the more the Matthewses treat us McNultys like reality is just "stupid games with stupid penny ante stakes," the wider the gulf between the two Americas will become.
David Sirota is a bestselling author whose newest book, "The Uprising," will be released in June of 2008. He is a fellow at the Campaign for America's Future and a board member of the Progressive States Network-both nonpartisan organizations. His blog is at www.credoaction.com/sirota.
(c) 2008 Creators Syndicate Inc.