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Reruns The Doghouse
Prince's Sound and Fury Guest
Editorial: ZEP Zeroes
in... Justin on Economics Repub's
Corner:
JayC's Soapbox |
"It is my belief that a
worthy American ought to be able
Campaign Finance
Reform Glossary:
Beelzebub’s Buzzwords
ASK, THE, n. The key moment. After all the wine has been drunk and the dancing done, finally comes The Ask, the naming of a specific price; e.g., The Chairman has the material you wanted him to see on that tax problem, Bob, and he hopes you consider donating fifty and raising another fifty. Synonym: The Pucker.
BAIT, n. Officeholders and candidates. To hook a major donor the bait is offered in many forms: We can arrange a private meeting for you with the Speaker; or, The President will be golfing at Windswept on the 25th and there’s an opening in his foursome; or, The Senator hopes you might sit at his table at the fundraiser. All bait opportunities are based on market price and availability. Overnights in the Lincoln bedroom and appearances in Buddhist temples have been discontinued for the 2001 season.
BREAKFAST CLUB, n. A well-appointed den of self-appointed thieves. On Capitol Hill, a breakfast club is organized around a powerful lawmaker who meets periodically in a private and swank setting with a group of lobbyists and other big contributors for a discussion of their legislative needs. The discussion is discreetly referred to as "platter chatter,” as in: Oh, nothing happened – we just had breakfast and some platter chatter. When the chatter is done and the last bit of sausage swallowed, an envelope is slipped into the hands of the lawmaker who later discovers to his or her delight that it is filled with checks.
BUNDLING, v. To get close, but not go all the way. Corporations cannot give money directly to a presidential or congressional candidate, which frustrates many CEOs who miss the old days. Hence, the artful dodge of bundling . Since corporate executives (plus their wives and children) can each write $1,000 checks to candidates, the CEO simply collects, say, a hundred of these individual checks from those in the executive suite of Great Big Global Corporation Inc., bundles them together with a tasteful gold ribbon, and personally hands them to the candidate in the name of the company: George, here’s a hundred grand we’ve bundled for you at GBGC – don’t forget about us now, you hear? Technically the law is not violated, and the corporation and candidate both get what they want.
CLEAN ROOM, no. (sometimes preceded by “ethically”). A legally sanitized place for raising bribery funds by telephone. The law is prudish about money calls being made from such hallowed sanctuaries as the Capitol, congressional offices, and the White House. (Oops, a couple of slipups there by Clinton/Gore, but see what a fuss it caused, and besides, there was “no controlling legal authority,” according to the Vice President, and Janet Reno gave him an official kiss on his boo-boo, so it’s all better now.) To avoid calling donors from their congressional offices, lawmakers can dart one block away to either the Republican Club or the Democratic Club, where dozens of fully equipped small offices, cynically referred to as “clean rooms,” are available for members to do their daily phone solicitations of special-interest many givers. Both clubs provide showers from the more fastidious members.
CLOSER, n. The one who does The Ask. Usually, the closer is not the candidate but a compaign official who is brought in to do the dirty work of asking a potential contributor for a certain amount of cash. Some candidates, like Al Gore, are exceptions: He’s an excellent closer. Colloquial: The one who seals the deal.
CONCIERGE, n. (also known as the “arranger,” the “fixer,” the “handler,” the “contact”). Each manor donor is assigned a staffer in that party’s Washington office who serves as their personal, governmental affairs concierge. Is your legislation hung up in subcommittee? Do you want to get on a trade mission to China? Is a regulator bothering you? Call your concierge.
CONSULTANT, n. (usually preceded by an adjective, such as “fundraising,” “media,” “polling,” “issue,” “speech”). The lowest life form in politics. Also, the highest paid. “Consultants” is the correct answer to the question: Why do campaigns suck?
CONDUITING, v. Playing traffic cop on the yellow brick road. Many industry associates give very little money directly to candidates, but they steer tuckloads of it to politicians they favor by calling on member companies to send in checks made out to the chosen ones. The checks are then packaged (see “bundling”) and conduited to the candidates by the association. There is no limit on how much can be conduited to a candidate, and conduiters claim to provide a service for donors who need guidance; a sort of Political Bribery for Dummies approach.
DAISY CHAIN, n. A cooperative effort to weave flowers into links, as innocent girls do in the early summer. The difference here is that the “daisies” are dollars, the “girls” are lobbyists, and “innocence” was deflowered long ago. To raise a lot of money in a hurry for a candidate, a group of lobbyists will set a goal of, say, $2 million in one month. Then they rush out into the money fields, quickly plucking checks fromt heir clients and other interested parties. They link these checks, one by one, into what’s called a daisy chain for the candidate.
DONOR, n. One who gives to get; a political investor; the most valued citizen in today’s political system.
DOUBLE DONOR, n. Companies that give without the burden of ideology or political passion, concerned purely with making certain that no matter who wins, they win; a nirvana achieved by the fact that they contribute generously to both candidates in a race and/or to both parties; e.g., more than a hundred companies gave at least $100, 000 to each party for the 2000 election. Informal: In some circles, the Double Donor is referred to as “double crosser” or, more colloquially, as “chickenshit.”
FACE TIME, n. A rare and prized commodity, now mostly for sale. The chance to sit fact-to-face – constituent to congressmember – for maybe a half hour or more to talk about a particular issue of concern is about as unlikely for regular citizens (i.e. noncontributor) as coming face-to-face with a talking pig. It is, however, an opportunity that grows more likely in direct proportion to the amount of money brought to the trough: as a notoriously whorish Texas state senator used to say, “Write your problem on the back of a check for me, then we’ll talk.”
FLOPHOUSE, n. See
Lincoln bedroom.
FUNDRAISER, n. The organizer of the bribery.
GOOD GOVERNMENT, n. The altruistic objective of big givers, so long as good government is defined as government good for them; e.g., the chief lobbyist for the giant energy firm Enron, explaining her corporations $50,000 donation to George W.’s gubernatorial inaugural bash, said: “We clearly never expect to receive anything other than good government as a result of any kind of contribution we make.” Subsequently, one of Governor Bush’s good government priorities in the ’99 legislative session was to pass an electricity deregulation bill pushed by Enron. It passed. Good government happens. [But it was a GREAT party! –Repub]
HOUND DOG, v. Slang, to sniff out and pursue new or reluctant contributors, like a hound dog after game; to have an instinct for the hunt, as in: He hound-dogged that rabbit right out of the hushes when no one else knew it was there.
IN COMPLIANCE, v. The first resort of scoundrels. The blissful state of being legally covered when accepting obvious bribes. Alert citizens will note that those who proclaim the loudest to be in compliance with the rules are those who write the rules.
INTERESTED MONEY, n. The golden goose of the political system. Potential donors who need particular political favors are the biggest, fastest-growing, and most reliable category of big money donations: “Both parties go through donor lists to find people with particular concerns at steak in the legislative process or the executive branch, and they go out and hit them up,” a GOP fundraiser confessed to USA Today. Synonym: bribery funds.
KISS, n. To score: We kissed Exxon today.
LEADERSHIP PAC, n. The legalized slush fund of a powerful politician.
LEVERAGE YOUR VOICE, v. Euphemism for “money talks, bullshit walks.” Representative Ellen Tauscher (D-California), telling Roll Call about the sudden flood of political money now surging out of Silicon Valley high-tech corporations, explained: “I think clearly it is important to be able to establish yourself as to how the political process works. I think that they understand that this is part of the process and that they want to leverage their voices.” Synonym: pay to play.
LINCOLN BEDROOM, n. See flophouse.
MAINTENANCE, v. Taking care of big donors. Both national parties keep skilled mechanics available 24/7, including road service. “Preventive maintenance” includes keeping donors well oiled with high-level phone calls, greasing any governmental problems they have, and periodically bringing them in to Washington to check their engine pressure and give them special briefings; e.g. former Senator Lloyd Bentsen (D-Texas) used to hold a monthly breakfast open only to those who gave $10,000 or more, and former Senator Rudy Boschwitz (R-Minnesota) issued special blue stamps to his contributors so his staff would expedite their mail. “High maintenance”: donors who demand lots of attention. Slang: whiners.
MATING DANCE, n. The cooing, wooing, flourishing of feathers, prancing, and dancing performed by political candidates in front of possible contributors; often done in flocks, where several contributors are assembled for, say, a cocktail reception, when several candidates join them and proceed to strut their stuff, hoping for one or more matches.
MEMBER, n. A first-class citizen. Membership in the high-donor clubs of either party puts you in the skybox of American politics. Democrats have their “Jefferson Trust” ($100,000+) and their “Chairman’s Circle” for givers of $500,000 and up. Republicans have their gold-card “Team 100” ($100,000+) and their platinum-card “Regents” ($1 million over four years.) Membership has its privileges – e.g. a GOP fundraiser explained to an undercover MSNBC reporter that while they couldn’t guarantee private meetings with key lawmakers, the party will always try to set on up whenever a major donor needs it, adding: “I’ve never heard of a Team 100 member being denied a meeting.”
MENU, n. The price list for access. The parties have become so flagrant in their disdain for even the appearance of ethical propriety that they have published brochures that offer specific access for specific levels of giving – from $5000 photo ops with the vice president and $25,000 skeet shoots with GOP committee chairmen to $10,000 private work sessions with committee staff and $100,000 Florida retreats with senior White House staffers. “We had a brochure from the GOP and we virtually copied the format,” said the DNC’s 1996 soft-money coordinator to The New Yorker. “I wanted some sort of consistency to [the pricing of access]. I didn’t want the people in Los Angeles to get better access than the oil jobbers in Texas”
NO QUID PRO QUO, n. As low as it gets. The final defense politicians offer for accepting corruption funds from corporations is that there was no explicit promise to deliver a goodie for a gift. “The lobbyist asked for no quid pro quo,” said the Chairman, “and I promised none.” This lowers the ethical bar to ground zero.
REPUBLICAN/DEMOCRAT, n. the two-faced mask of evil intentions worn by most lobbyists, all corporatons, and too many politicians: I am neither a Republican nor Democrat, but both. Like Beelzebub himself, this is a creature that can take many forms but serves only one interest: his own. Slang: Republicrat.
ROLODEXES, n. Money people with networks of money people and a willingness to work them. The Rolodexes are the prize catches of all major campaigns, for they are peers of the big givers, they speak the native tongue and know the secret handshakes, and they can harvest checks faster than a John Deere haybaler. “You could care less about a guy who can give $100,000,” said the former finance coordinator for Bill Clinton – it’s the individuals who can work their Rolodexes to taop dozens of other for twenty-five, fifty, or a hundred thousand each who truly matter. Shopping center mogul Mel Sembler for George W. Bush, superlobbyist Peter Knight for Al Gore, real estate baron Ted Welch for Lamar Alexander, Gateway lobbyist John Heubusch for Elizabeth Dole, AIG honcho Hank Greenberg for John McCain – these are a few of the big-league Rolodexes in the 2000 presidential campaign.
SEASON TICKET HOLDER, n. The Brahmans of the political caste. Both parties now have an ultimate pedestal for super-givers who put more than $250,000 a year into their respective cups, though it is the Republicans who designated their the Season Ticket Holders. Origin: It seems that the GOP’s weekend getaways for donors and politicians at Aspen, Palm Beach, and elsewhere were becoming so overrun with the riffraff who contribute only $100,000 each that your true elites were finding these events “crowded” and difficult to get quality face time with the politicians; thus was born, in 1996, the Season Ticket Holder class, with members awarded carte-blanche access to the party’s top officeholders and granted entrée to the most intimate gatherings with GOP politicians. Those with their tickets punches are said to hold “season passes,” as in: Make time for me to see the gentleman from Philip Morris, for he’s got a season pass.
STROKING DOLLARS, v. The political art of wooing major donors, stroking their egos, and eventually stroking dollars from them for a campaign. Commonly practiced by candidates at gatherings of the GOP’s “Team 100” or the Democrat’s “Team 2000,” where numerous stroking opportunities present themselves. Archaic: whining & dining. Regional: IN parts of the South, candidates refer to themselves as pick-pockets, as in: I’ve got to go to that black-tie dinner in Atlanta and pick a few pockets.
UNILATERAL DISARMAMENT, N. The ultimate dodge, used most often by Democrats, to avoid any slowdown in the fundraising arms race, as in: I strongly support campaign finance reform, but the other side is raising millions, and you can’t expect us to unilaterally disarm, so we’re going to keep raising the big money, too. Political version of “The devil made me do it.” The disarmament dodge ignores other choices, from emphasizing low-dollar fundraising to pushing for public financing; e.g. Senator Russ Feingold (D-Wisconsin), a reformer running for reelection in 1998, did not disarm, but did have the integrity to deescalate, refusing to use soft money and imposing a spending limit on his campaign. His Republican opponent was forced by this stand to deescalate, too, though he didn’t go nearly as far. The result was that Feingold was significantly outspent, yet he won anyway, in large part because of voter appreciation for his effort to restrain the whoring for dollars. Back in Washington, Feingold’s reward was to be reviled by his own Democratic colleagues for showing them up.
VACUUMING, v. Going
far beyond a candidate’s or party’s usual base of donors to try
gathering contributions from interests they really don’t know.
Vacuuming can find some real treasures, but it can also find some real
problems, as in: The casino boys ought to like my tax-incentive
plan, so let’s run our vacuum through Las Vegas and see what we pick
up.
WHORE, n. A term of endearment among insiders; a politician who engages in promiscuous legislative intercourse with a donor for money. While politicians never want to be call a whore in public, they often refer to each other as such in private as praise for being a successful fundraiser, as in: Why you old whore, I heard you scored a big one with Great Big Global Corporation Inc.!
ZIPS, THE, n. The most bountiful hunting grounds for bagging campaign contributions by presidential and high-profile congressional candidates. In order, the top-ten most lucrative zip codes, based on total amount of money given, are:
10021 and 10022 (New York, NY) 90210 (Beverly Hills, CA) 10017 (New York, NY) 20008 and 20007 (Washington, D.C.) 10128 (New York, NY) 33480 (Palm Beach, FL) 10028 (New York, NY) 90067 (Century City, CA)
The five Manhattan zip codes run contiguously up the posh East Side, from 49th to 96th Streets, stretching from 5th Avenue to the East River – these are the penthouses of the clans that run Wall Street. The two Washington zip codes are the Georgetown and Rock Creek Park neighborhoods, where the top lobbyists dwell. Fundraising consultants refer to these prestigious addresses simply as The Zips, as in: My candidate is having good luck in The Zips.
From If The Gods Had Meant Us To Vote They Would Have Given Us Candidates by Jim Hightower.
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