Framing This Soon

An already great photo takes on some new importance.

Panoramic Experimenting

Click to enlarge.

Obama & Clinton New York City Fundraiser Photos

All photos: Luke N. Vargas. 2008. All Rights Reserved.

One Shot

Computer isn't working well enough to get the rest up tonight.

Too many hours in the heat with no sunscreen's given me a headache and drained my energy for the night.

I will try to crank out Michelle Obama and Unity, NH summaries by tomorrow evening.


(Photo credit: Luke N. Vargas. 2008. All Rights Reserved)

Straight Talk Photos

Nashua, NH. June 12, 2008.

I'm still in New Hampshire and the internet is too slow to update more photos, but I'll try to have a full event summary of John McCain's Nashua townhall by Saturday afternoon.

Selected Shots

Still only half-way through my photos from Hillary's victory event in Philadelphia from Tuesday...here are a few I like:





(All photos: Luke N. Vargas. 2008. All Rights Reserved)

Hillary in Philadelphia

It's too late for me to stay up and edit photos. I've got a long drive back home tomorrow beginning at 6:00 AM, so it might take even longer for me to put together a slideshow with photos from Hillary Clinton's celebration tonight in Philadelphia.

Enjoy the one photo I've had time to upload!



(Photo credit: Luke N. Vargas. 2008. All Rights Reserved)

Photo of the Week

Faces of Victory, originally uploaded by vargas2040.

(photo credit: © 2008 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)

It's Here.

Obama mania landed in New Hampshire yesterday as Barack, Michelle and Oprah roared in from a swing through Iowa and South Carolina.

I'll pen my thoughts on the rally later, but it was one event I won't forget easily.






(all photos: © 2007 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)

From the State House to the White House

Barack Obama was in town tonight for a rally with Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick. This time last year it was Obama who made campaign stops during Patrick's gubernatorial campaign, but today was Patrick's turn to weigh in on the presidential election with a nice juicy endorsement of his own.


The Obama campaign says they drew a crowd of 9,500 on the Common, but the numbers are less important than what the event means for the presidential election right now: Hillary can't slack off.


Sure, Clinton may lead in early polls, but if college students and energized Americans can skip studying and prime-time television for a few hours to wait for and listen to Obama in threatening weather, they might just take a break to vote for him in the coming election. Throw in the high number of Clinton supporters who say they aren't completely sold on their candidate, and you've got a recipe for surprisingly strong showings from Barack in Iowa and New Hampshire.

If an idea for a longer event summary comes to mind I'll write it up this weekend.




(all photos: © 2007 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)

Just Photos

Sadly, Hillary Clinton's event at Boston's Symphony Hall left me with few words to say--and not in a good way.

Maybe the two hours of speakers introducing her, the hip-hop cover band, or the Goo Goo Dolls wore me out before Clinton got on stage. I'll make sure to avoid fundraisers in the future.







(all photos: © 2007 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)

Sticking Around

My audio recording from Joe Biden's event at Plymouth State University this past Saturday is the longest in my collection--2:35:17 is how long it lasts.

I expected to stick around to hear Biden speak for around an hour before heading back down south for a Romney event in the evening--what would Biden have to say anyways?

Turns out Senator Biden kept me enraptured just listening to him, and I ended up clearing my planned events for the rest of the day.


The event took place in a small hall at Plymouth state that could probably hold ten times the number of people who showed up, and Biden began talking by pulling out a line he picked up in his years as a politician "there are crowds too small to give a speech to, and too large to have a conversation with." Erring on the side of intimacy, Biden said he'd enjoy conversing with those assembled, and he certainly didn't hide behind a podium.

Throughout the hour and a half Biden spent speaking and answering questions from the audience, he would repeatedly take a seat next to the person asking him a question, hold someone by the shoulder and speak directly to them, or put the weight of his leg up on an empty chair. Even Biden's idea of a conversation was more affectionate than most of the event's attendees could have anticipated, and the relaxed atmosphere allowed both Biden and the audience to loosen up and answer and ask questions in a more straightforward fashion.

Hillary Clinton take note--you're "conversations" with voters ain't nothing like this.


Biden is known as the "foreign policy expert" of the field of presidential candidates, and is often mentioned as the ideal Secretary of State for the more "viable" candidates, but his knowledge of America's foreign policy wasn't the only bit of intelligence that stood out. The questions posed by professors and students of Plymouth State, as well as some local residents, were by far the most articulate, detailed, and sincere questions I have seen asked of any candidate since the presidential campaign season kicked off early this year. And unlike the candidates who stumble when the zingers are thrown at them, Biden shined the most when the details of his federal proposal for Iraq were asked about in detail, or another example when he was asked to explain the intricacies of the Israeli-Palestinian crisis and how it could be remedied.

Yes, after only two questions that brought out passionate and well-crafted answers from Biden's amendment to the Defense Authorization Bill, one member of the audience expressed enough confidence in Biden's way of thinking that he was curious to see what the Senator thought about one of the most difficult and nuanced conflicts in the world. For a moment it seemed as if the audience of professors and parents were asking questions of some visiting professor themselves; Biden's course would certainly be an enlightening one.

"Professor, how do you fix the conflict between two hostile nations?"


Biden tackled the question by first asking if anyone else had questions that had to do with Israel and Palestine, obviously preparing for a long string of remarks that could be adapted to address whatever anyone wanted to know about.

Nobody else had anything to add, and Biden took about twenty minutes to give his explanation. For every minute, however, both the political science professor and the first-year undergraduate nodded in approval. Biden's words fit in perfectly with the educated and historical perspectives the teachers and students were familiar with from their studies. Unfortunately, in presidential politics it is often the professors and students that watch in disbelief as our leaders repeat every mistake of history and see the world through naive eyes and make imprudent decisions.

Biden is often labeled as "long-winded" and "rambling," but those words seem better fit on someone who doesn't know what they're talking about and ends up tracking all around an issue before finding the answer they want. Biden instead is intelligent and well-versed in the things he talks about, and his mastery of public speaking enables him to adjust his volume and passion whenever he becomes involved in explaining an issue.


I thought Biden would hop in a campaign vehicle and speed off after he finished answering questions, but he did nothing of the sort. True to his thorough tendencies, he not only signed his campaign posters and took photos with students, but he answered questions one-on-one for over an hour. As time passed, Biden grabbed a bottle of water, took off his suit jacket, and took a seat in the first row of seats. Around him a small group of reporters, students, and supporters filled in the chairs around, and I even felt so comfortable to take a seat on the floor in front of him.

A true conversation began--those who stuck around, myself included, would throw in words in the middle of Biden's sentences, seeking more specific explanations or suggesting possible ideas to him. Many candidates can't afford to take the time to engage in such a personal interaction with voters, but if I'd never seen the true "New Hampshire campaign way" before, this was it.





(all photos: © 2007 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)

Answer and Walk Away

I was thinking this morning about these two guys who showed up at the Mitt Romney event on Saturday morning. One of them I've seen at about a dozen events around New Hampshire the past few months, and every opportunity he gets he asks a question about arresting dying people who are using medical marijuana. John McCain. Mike Huckabee. It seems every Republican has been nagged by this guy.

Honestly, the prospect of legalizing marijuana for medical purposes doesn't scare me too much, so I have nothing against a question about the topic being asked. My main complaint is the way these medical marijuana people are trying to get attention.


It seems that Granite Staters in wheelchairs are the new ticket to asking the medical marijuana question. In the middle of Romney's speech it was just such a person that quietly wheeled his way to the side of the stage and waited for Romney to finish speaking before stating that he had tried every prescription medicine with no success and wanted to know if Mitt would "arrest me and my doctors."

Sigh.

I wouldn't criticize this kind of setup if the guy asking the question wasn't being filmed by the medical marijuana man, was actually worried about having his dogs taken away, and had no access to any basic form of communications that would easily inform him that Romney and the other top Republicans will NEVER advocate the legalization of marijuana--it's like asking Pat Robertson if he supports abortion.

Romney listened intently to the man in the wheelchair's question, but he realized quickly what situation he was finding himself in with the question. After a short while Romney stood up to walk away and restated to the man that no matter what story he had or what case he would make for medical marijuana that he would not support it. With that, the man with the video camera pointed his lens straight at Romney, raised his voice, and asked why he wouldn't answer the question from a GUY IN A WHEELCHAIR!! "I believe I just spoke with him," was Romney's response.

Because god forbid a candidate not let himself be continually trashed by medical marijuana activists at the expense of seeming rude to a disabled person!


The guy with the camera quickly marched off to the back of the room (but not outside to his car--why actually stomp out in anger if you could linger around and try to get at Romney on the way out?) and muttered "asshole!" loud enough for everyone to hear him.

Decide for yourself, but I like the way other interest groups are getting their issues out there way more than this medical marijuana thing. PrioritiesNH drives their busses around and is greeted with curious smiles wherever they go, the "I'm a Healthcare Voter" people ask insightful questions and prepare creative presentations for the candidates (ex. health care invoices), and the SEIU just wants candidates to see what it's like to work like one of their union members for a day. Those groups are smart because they know when to stop being pushy and understand that voters come to campaign events in New Hampshire for the honest and intimate atmosphere, not for the spectacles of annoyance that video cameras and excessive bird-dogging cause.


(all photos: © 2007 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)

Only a Wife in Name

Yes, Elizabeth Edwards is THAT good.

Ms. Edwards' first words in Concord, NH on Sunday were that she was going to focus the event on health care. With a husband as invested in health care as John Edwards is, it's not hard to know where her knowledge of the issue comes from. Blowing my expectations away, however, Ms. Edwards knew about more than health care; she eloquently answered questions about Darfur and other topics, took tremendous effort to address specific questions tried to clarify what she was being asked if it wasn't clear (it seems easy, but most politicians use those opportunities to jump to their talking points), and spoke and connected with people from the heart.


Some have criticized the campaign tactics of John and Elizabeth of late, but the one story I never jumped on was the $400 haircut fiasco. Why? Because I've never doubted the honest intentions of the Edwards family. I know that John is dedicated to the issue of poverty in America and I can feel the compassion and caring of Elizabeth when she speaks with voters, especially those afflicted by serious illness. "Hope" means one thing from Barack Obama, but it means something else from John and Elizabeth Edwards.


I can't help but think that I ended up at Elizabeth's event by accident--a spur of the moment New Hampshire stop after showing up a week early for an environmental conference in Manchester. John Edwards is one of the only candidates I haven't spend much time covering in New Hampshire, and I certainly won't avoid him the next time he's in the state. And that's all because of his wife--only Bill Clinton plays at this level.

People often tout Bill Richardson's name around as a potentially-successful Senator, and while his home state of New Mexico is of more importance to the Democrats than North Caroline, Elizabeth Edwards sure seems like she'd make an exceptional politician herself. Ms. Edwards is only a wife by name--too often the word in politics comes to symbolize the Stepford spouses that hold their husband's hand and visit preschools--she's a terrific orator and public servant.


Though she may not have the businesswoman look of Michelle Obama, the riches of Cindy McCain, and the convenient phone-calling of Judith Giuliani, Elizabeth Edwards brings to her husband's campaign even more of what it thrives off of--honesty, compassion, intelligence, and the aura of a best friend. Whether speaking on increasing nursing education, the importance of personal diagnosis from local doctors, or the courage shown by one man at the event who had learned the complex processes involved in caring for a loved one, Elizabeth Edwards confides in her audiences rather than pontificate to them.


The media is quick to announce that Ms. Edwards is breaking campaign convention by maintaining such a high profile and hitting the trail herself, but on the ground her presence is so welcomed and refreshing that it seems strange anyone would need to make a big deal of it. The atmosphere at Sunday's event was so comfortable that Elizabeth would, in an unembarrassed manner, blow her nose when she needed and accept an offer of a small pack of tissues from one man in the audience. Maybe that only happened because she's not a big-shot politician who relies on a pack of eager staffers to give her whatever she needs a moment's notice, but as long as she keeps doing what she's been doing, she'll be one of the greatest factors working to the advantage of John Edwards in the coming months.



(all photos: © 2007 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)

The Scene

When I press the play button on my voice recorder and listen to the sounds of what's known as 'the spray,' I quickly turn down the volume. For the first few seconds, as a dozen photographers scrambe down the stairs from a press holding area towards the debate stage, the tape plays back in bangs and clatters. Equipment pushes against bodies and silent breathes become noisy. One photographer jokes and yells "dive! dive! dive!" as he jumps down the steps.

At the end of a bright concrete hallway is the darkened floor of the arena. We wait in the shadows under a makeshift television stage, hidden from the view of the crowd. With no warning an announcer's voice fills the room and begins introducing the debate participants. As the last name is read off and Brit Hume pauses for an ad break before the event begins a hand signal is made from halfway across the floor and the race begins. Our footsteps dampened by thick red carpeting, the photographers find the shortest route towards the base of the debate stage. Up the aisles and around the crowd, the looming wall of red, white, and blue seems to lean over us as we draw closer. Arriving there, however, the shiny jewels of the television set and the polished contestants are unimposing, personal, and imperfect.


We're told we have four minutes to take all the photos we can. Some of the photographers kneel down front and center, aiming to catch the head of a mayor or governor at the foot of the towering and colorful facade, while others set up tripods at stage left and catch each man lined up like dominos in matching suits and ties. I realized that every photo I would see in the morning's paper would be taken by someone within feet of me. The guy yelling "dive! dive! dive!" would have his shots in hundreds of papers from the Seattle Times to the Houston Chronicle, and it's likely I would wind up with a photo nearly identical to his. So took a photo of the photographers taking their photos, because I knew that would never be published.

It was oddly silent standing at the base of a television scene. Somehow, in the same room as thousands of students, noisy Ron Paul supporters, and millions of dollars of equipment, cameras, and lights there didn't seem to be any noise; I'm used to more noise coming from ten kids at the back of the high school auditorium. The silence is a blessing because it opens up a window into the movements and noises of the candidates on stage. As the photographers moved around and and angled for their shots I could clearly hear Mitt Romney whisper "time to suck it in, guys," and Duncan Hunter repeatedly saying "we've got a nice crowd here tonight," making the nerdy and obvious comments to himself that nobody responded to.


I lost track of time and didn't hear the press wranglers reminding us how long we had left until it was time to go. We all moved off to stage left and slipped behind the tall black curtain. I couldn't help but peer back behind me and see the stage lights brighten up a notch and the quirky individualism of each candidate turn to the polite and polished faces of the television. The security guard near us around stated firmly that there were to be no photos taken back stage and I faced forward again and marched towards the cement passageway. Cindy McCain leaned on her crutches to my left and gazed back towards the light of the stage.

It took a few minutes for the group of photographers to find its way back to the two hockey training rinks that comprised the spin room and blogger area; without a guide our knack for taking photos served us little in navigating through the intricacies of a place we weren't familiar with. A UNH student with some sort of yarn pullover and tangled hair took the lead and helped us back. He was holding a tiny Nikon Coolpix and was busy looking through his pictures. The guy from the AP looked at me and laughed when he saw the guy was wearing a press pass just like us, but I merely smiled back--though I may have had more equipment than my UNH counterpart, there's a pact between "new media" people that can't be broken--we're still bloggers and student journalists, and five years ago we never would have ended up on the floor of a Fox News Debate.


We pushed through an unmarked door and walked past some students on their way to the weight room before coming upon the converted hockey rinks again. The red carpet of the spin room glistened in the light of the empty television set, and a lonely maintenance worker walked around and made sure everything was working. I broke from the group and followed the plexiglass siding of the rink around the building towards the exit and went outside. To my left was a giant white trailer the size of an 18-wheeler with its supports embedded into the grass outside the arena. The trailer methodically whined as hidden engines supplied power through dozens of thick plastic tubes that snaked back into the building and into the laptops and battery chargers. Some Austrian journalists sat on the railing by the door and had a smoke while reviewing their footage, and I passed by them and up a dark stairway.

Just a little ways up was the main entrance to the arena. I walked through the last of the protesters and sign-holding supporters, all of us clueless as to what was being said inside or whose candidate was really standing out. What had been a noisy and raucous area of competing chants only an hour earlier was peaceful now. At the end of the long fence that had held the crowd back was a simple piece of folded plasterboard stretched out beneath a twisted tree. The two guys watching over it said it was the "Memorial Wall," an imitation of the stone monuments in Washington D.C. of fallen soldiers from decades past. A hundred yards from debating politicians inside an enclosed and vibrant sports hall was a solemn reminder of what should be the most important issue of debate. The first three years of names, about 3,700, were neatly painted on the gray board, with the most recent victims from Iraq printed out on computer paper and waiting to be painted later. One of the men said the woman who did the painting found the task so painful that she had to stop down for a while.


I headed back down the stairs and into the blogger room again, taking a seat in the very back row and spreading my equipment over the table. A number of people at the front of the room typed rapidly, glancing up the television monitors of the debates and summing up video with a few sentences of a blogger's words.

About an hour later I was tapped on the shoulder and told that the spray for the end of the debate was getting ready to leave. I packed up my gear and prepared myself for heading out onto the debate floor and obnoxiously taking a bunch of pictures of candidates I was gradually losing more and more interest in. Not once during my hour of rest in the middle of the debate did the blogger room ever audibly react to anything that was said on the television screens, and I was curious to see what would be spun into interesting news from all of it. The second spray in the arena was longer and less interesting than the first. Students tried to get autographs and pictures themselves, and I ended up trapped next to Brit Hume and Ann Romney on the questioners stage, wondering how long it'd be before I could head back to the spin room.


I had seen a few fashionable twenty-somethings with special VIP passes running past us on the way into the arena after the debate, and sure enough the spin room was packed with smooth talking representatives eager to let everyone know why their candidate really stood out. "Hannity and Colmes" was already live on tv, and Rudy Giuliani smiled under the bright spotlights that filled the room. John McCain entered through the back entrance of the television set and an assistant slipped an earpiece and transmitter onto him before he wandered over to the wing of the stage.


With the cameras rolling and the reporters talking the room started to bustle with activity. I found a step ladder and peered across the floor, locating the most congested areas, assuming there was someone interesting in front of the groups of reporters and cameramen there. Sam Brownback stood underneath an awning with his name on it and took questions from everybody with a pad of paper or a microphone. Each individual had their own reason for being there and a particular question that they wanted to ask, but watching all of it, the questions and answers lacked any coherence.


Some other candidates worked the crowd too, signing autographs and creating semicircles of press in front of them. One girl even managed to get a photograph with Duncan Hunter and said her dad would be so proud to see it. I found the "exciting and unpredictable" spin room to be the epitome of a messed up election process. So much was made of Fred Thompson's decision to skip the debate and his lack of respect for the New Hampshire way of campaigning, but I didn't see anything New Hampshire about manipulative men and women in suits working the television cameras either, and with every candidate going on Hannity and Colmes to explain why they were the clear winner, it seemed just as much an advertisement as Thompson's 30-second spot.


I spent another few minutes taking photos and saying hello to some of the campaign staffers that I knew before heading out to my car. I popped in an old CD instead of listening to talk radio, and drove the two hours back to Boston. It was 3:00 A.M. before I finally went to sleep, but I slept excited to go back to school and my US Government class. Perhaps fifty minutes of Plato, Machiavelli, and history could enlighten me more than ten hours at a debate.


(all photos: © 2007 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)

A New Dodd

I spent the car-ride back from New Hampshire this morning trying to figure out how to write up this post. I started to absorb all of the things I had experienced in the past hour and thought about ways to distill it. I was tempted to elaborate on what it felt like to have goosebumps again at a campaign event (the last time that happened was a John Kerry rally in New Hampshire I attended only two days before the '04 election), or whether I should talk about the humbling feeling when you find yourself surrounded by hundreds of firefighters.


Just this Wednesday, two Boston firefighters--both veterans in the department-- were killed in an area fire. Warren Payne and Paul Cahill were remembered at the start of this morning's rally for Senator Chris Dodd in Manchester by a bagpipe rendition of "Amazing Grace" played by a firefighter's honor guard. A sea of firefighters wearing the IAFF's signature yellow t-shirts gathered silently to pay their respects This would be the first of many moments the crowd would gather in communion throughout the morning.


The IAFF's President, Harold Schaitberger, took to the platform and explained the union's rationale for endorsing Senator Dodd. Though Schaitberger's comments on the matter have been widely publicized--that Dodd was not picked to avoid confrontation with any of the top tier candidates--he again outlined that his organization looks beyond the polls and considers all candidates for their endorsement. Schaitberger reiterated that Chris Dodd is the closest ally of firefighters nationwide, and if he's only polling at 1% than they just have to work harder to put him in the lead.

I realized then that firefighters approach their job in a similar manner: thinking not which lives are worth saving easily and giving up after that, but instead committing themselves (and occasionally losing their lives) in a fight to do whatever they can to save anyone in danger.


It wasn't until Schaitberger's introduction of Chris Dodd, however, that I fully understood how important the backing of the IAFF will be for the Senator. In a cheer more often associated with a football game, Schaitberger rallied the crowd by asking if they would do whatever it takes to campaign for Dodd and not rest until the primary and beyond. In unison the firefighters responded with a resounding "hell yeah!"

After attending events for Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama in New Hampshire, I figured Chris Dodd would never preside over a large, electrified crowd. I was quickly proved wrong when Senator Dodd was welcomed onto the stage.


The Senator articulated what the IAFF's backing truly signifies by underscoring the amount of respect and heroism we associate with firefighters. Whether neighbors, friends, or little league baseball coaches, firefighters are perhaps the single most trusted individuals in any community. If I didn't have access to the news, was never phone banked by a candidate's staff, or never received piles of mail telling me who to vote for, I'm confident I would trust a firefighter to tell me who the best candidate was. It's that level of deference to the firefighter's profession that makes the IAFF endorsement so important for Dodd.


Though I consider myself well-versed on the policy positions of many presidential candidates, I know very little about what the candidates have done that affects firefighters and emergency workers.

In most cases, whenever a campaigning politician mentions or his or her legislative accomplishments or has their career summarized by someone else, audiences don't often get too excited. Even candidates addressing such groups as the NEA receive applause more out of general support for the candidate than for the details of the mentioned bill or proposal. When Chris Dodd's resume of protecting firefighters in his 26 years in the Senate was explained by Harold Schaitberger, however, the audience notably began nodding in anticipation and approval before the words "SAFER Act" (provided departments with the ability to hire more firefighters and thus prevent firefighters from entering dangerous situations with too little backup) and "FIRE Act" (a measure that has provided more than $3 billion for training and equipment upgrades across the country) were mentioned.

So little is communicated from the television screen; the emotions of a crowd are only palpable when you're there in person. Being surrounded by the mass of firefighters drove home the level of sincere agreement and respect for Dodd's bills that the audience felt.


I walked away from the rally this morning in awe. After seeing Chris Dodd on three prior occasions, I agreed with those who were critical of his often-bureaucratic manner of speech, but Dodd is markedly new man now: he's all fired up (pun intended). With a fresh haircut, a raspy voice (no doubt from two consecutive days of IAFF rallies), and a throng of cheering supporters, I can now visualize a different Chris Dodd. Where I previously saw little more than a Washington politician--a kind one, but far from charismatic--I now see Dodd as a candidate capable of both succeeding in his legislative role, but also someone with the spark to lead and inspire the people who hear him.

When I first met the Senator I asked him about youth involvement in politics and what needed to happen to empower younger generations. His answer touched upon a lot of points I can no longer remember, but his last sentence presented a personal challenge to me that no other candidate I've met has asked: "Support me in the primary--we need young people like you."


As Dodd accepted President John F Kennedy's call to national service by joining the Peace Corps, I'm proud to say I have taken up Chris Dodd's challenge to support him in the primary. I'll still cover every candidate and event that lands on the New Hampshire campaign schedule, but like the IAFF, I endorse Senator Chris Dodd.

(all photos: © 2007 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)

The Good, the Bad, and the Uncertain Future: John McCain and the Iraq War

Whether or not you've been opposed to the Iraq war since the start or are determined it should end or continue, it's hard to prove that public opinion isn't begin to swing back in favor of Bush's surge strategy. Compared with polls taken one and two months ago, the number of Americans who believe the surge is improving the situation in Iraq has risen by nearly 10%, and a similar increase in percent now say America was right to take military action against Iraq (43% now vs. 35% in May). (CBS News Polls)


If the military and security situation is improving on the ground in Fallujah and across Iraq, the long term result of America's presence in Iraq is uncertain. Presidential candidates have, with varying degrees of clarity, staked out their positions on the war and the "surge," and it's yet to be seen which Democrat or Republican can turn changing public opinion into higher poll numbers. Even more, can a swing in public opinion on the war swing the voting public towards the GOP field in 2008? These are questions with few answers at the moment.

I remember watching Colin Powell's address to the United Nations and the warnings of mushroom clouds and vials of dangerous explosives and chemicals. At that moment I was scared, and I supported Bush's move towards military action against Iraq. Every day since the invasion, however, my support for the war has dwindled, and until recently I've maintained the belief that every day the United States is in Iraq is a day too long. And now we see Democrats such as Brian Baird of Washington supporting the surge and Hillary Clinton's recent statements announcing that progress is being made. While I haven't been won over enough to believe that the situation in Iraq is completely better and we need to recommit to a long-term engagement in the country, my support of Senator John McCain's steady position on the war has risen.


Now that we've seen Hillary Clinton announce success and failure, Barack Obama go from opposition to voting for troop funding bills, and a number of other candidate's doublespeak on their positions, John McCain's unapologetic support of the war is strangely refreshing. McCain sees Iraq as being an issue above politics--one that concerns our standing in the world and the survival of our nation--just as he speaks of issues such as immigration as a national priority--more serious than the cries of "sanctuary cities" by his opponents. Instead of jockeying for position on every issue like Rudy Giuliani and Mitt Romney, McCain has stated where he stands and held true. Unfortunately for him, Rudy vs. Mitt attacks are more interesting to listen to, and McCain has been ignored of late.

It would be a shame for America if the Senator's mismanagement of campaign funds and personnel is what dooms him in 2008. Instead, I'd like to see McCain go down with the honor that so defines him--if the war he so believes in turns sour and he's the last man standing.

Unlike his competitors, McCain is the only man with the guts to remain standing.

(all photos: © 2007 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)

The Photostream

My latest images from the campaign trail--









(all photos: © 2007 by Luke N. Vargas. All Rights Reserved.)