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by Yaruqo » Fri Mar 04, 2022 9:12 am
Melovinta wrote:Can we get a time system? We've had people in the IC thread go from March 3rd to March 7th and then back to March 3rd, is there any set limit on how many days can pass since the last IC post?
by Melovinta » Fri Mar 04, 2022 9:21 am
Yaruqo wrote:Melovinta wrote:Can we get a time system? We've had people in the IC thread go from March 3rd to March 7th and then back to March 3rd, is there any set limit on how many days can pass since the last IC post?
On the IC thread, you can see what the current IC dates are. March 3 - March 10, 2007. This is how we’ve done it for previous iterations, to allow folks time to post and respond to each other in consideration of RL time constraints. We will consistently update the IC dates to ensure flow and pacing of the RP move forward.
by Madrinpoor » Fri Mar 04, 2022 9:21 am
Melovinta wrote:Can we get a time system? We've had people in the IC thread go from March 3rd to March 7th and then back to March 3rd, is there any set limit on how many days can pass since the last IC post?
Melovinta wrote:Yaruqo wrote:
On the IC thread, you can see what the current IC dates are. March 3 - March 10, 2007. This is how we’ve done it for previous iterations, to allow folks time to post and respond to each other in consideration of RL time constraints. We will consistently update the IC dates to ensure flow and pacing of the RP move forward.
Alright, thanks! Btw, by how much does the time advance? 10 days? 5? 20?
by Dentali » Fri Mar 04, 2022 9:46 am
Madrinpoor wrote:Melovinta wrote:Can we get a time system? We've had people in the IC thread go from March 3rd to March 7th and then back to March 3rd, is there any set limit on how many days can pass since the last IC post?
It's generally just courtesy not to post too much in one one week span, but I promise it speeds up after this first intro week. Also campaign posts are almost always just a post of events for that week every week.
I recommend that people lay off a little bit on the posting their intros on the IC thread — after you've made like one intro post just give other people time to do so as well.Melovinta wrote:
Alright, thanks! Btw, by how much does the time advance? 10 days? 5? 20?
Almost always it's a 1 week advance, usually it's 1 RL week to 1 IC week
by Dentali » Fri Mar 04, 2022 9:47 am
Deblar wrote:The Dixiecrats are really making a comeback, aren't they?
by Cybernetic Socialist Republics » Fri Mar 04, 2022 11:48 am
by Dentali » Fri Mar 04, 2022 12:04 pm
Cybernetic Socialist Republics wrote:Updated, please put Talise Fleming app on hold while I fix it to match the timeline here.
by Madrinpoor » Fri Mar 04, 2022 3:17 pm
Rygondria wrote:I just remembered that California had a republican as governor at this point of time, that’s another option I could use besides the Sec of Defense
by Dentali » Fri Mar 04, 2022 7:06 pm
Mareadmonte wrote:How does polling/election results work?
by Madrinpoor » Sat Mar 05, 2022 6:37 am
by Madrinpoor » Sat Mar 05, 2022 8:17 am
Mayor not-Kurt Schmoke, honestly, has no idea what he's doing, has no idea how to help Baltimore, and has no idea how he won in the first place. He's old news; outdated and irrelevant. Everybody knows that. He's a moron. There's no room for civil political discourse at this point — there's only room for protest.
by Madrinpoor » Sat Mar 05, 2022 8:34 am
by Mareadmonte » Sat Mar 05, 2022 8:47 am
Madrinpoor wrote:Meareadmonte your signs are actually really really good.
by Madrinpoor » Sat Mar 05, 2022 9:20 am
by Lavan Tiri » Sat Mar 05, 2022 11:17 am
by Madrinpoor » Sat Mar 05, 2022 1:04 pm
by Tehrangeles » Sat Mar 05, 2022 1:12 pm
Rygondria wrote:I just remembered that California had a republican as governor at this point of time, that’s another option I could use besides the Sec of Defense
by Mareadmonte » Sat Mar 05, 2022 1:34 pm
Madrinpoor wrote:Didn't Gunsley just declare he was running for reelection in Ohio
by Yaruqo » Sat Mar 05, 2022 1:37 pm
Madrinpoor wrote:
NS Nation Name: Madrinpoor
Character Name: Jéan-Jacques St. Cierge (J.J.)
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 55 (b. 1952)
Character Height: 5'8
Character Weight: 151
Character Position/Role/Job: Host of Political Juice podcast (2005—)
Host of Waffles and Congress radio special (1999—2005)
Cofounder/Pundit on ASBC Radio (1997—)
Guest Pundit on CNN (1996—1997)
Owner, St. Cierge Cider distillery (1996)
Mayor of Baltimore (1992—1996)
Staff writer at Progressive Underground magazine (1983—1989)
Baltimore City Council (1981—1983)
Speechwriter for a leftist House candidate running against not-Barbara Milkulski (1978—1980)
Founder/Radio Pirate, Free DC Radio (1975, alleged but true)
Character Country/State of Birth: Maine, USA
Character State of Residence: Maryland
Character Party Affiliation: Democrat Coffee House
Faceclaim: Allen West
Main Strengths: Charismatic; TV-genic; hard to say "no" to; cult following; wide name recognition from radio show; experienced and skilled debater; scrappy underdog; down to earth; very distinctive and recognizable persona
Main Weaknesses: Foreign sounding and unspelleable name; limited political experience; struggles to expand his base outside of his devoted followers; questionable political support in the past; wrong place at the wrong time politically; spent teenage years in Canada; no filter
Biography: Jéan-Jacques St. Cierge was born in Aroostook County, in the extreme northernmost part of Maine. His father was Acadian, his family had lived in the area since before the Revolutionary War. His maternal great-great-grandmother, according to family legend, was a slave brought to Canada along the Underground Railroad. His mother worked as a customs agent on the border between the US and Canada, and his father a teacher.
When Jéan-Jacques was nine, his family moved to Montréal, to be closer to his paternal family. Jéan-Jacques spent his teenage years there, though he went to a bilingual school, and spent summers with his maternal family in Maine. He was one of only two Black people in his school, the other being an American named Richie but who went by "Pascal" to sound more French. The two were close friends, and both pursued interests in social studies and law. Jéan-Jacques went to Georgetown University, aiming for law school, with a major in political science. But he found the law track boring, and not stimulating — the faculty recommended he go through with it anyway, and Jéan-Jacques went to Georgetown law school after finishing his four year degree with a major in PoliSci and a minor in literature, admitted to the bar in 1977.
Jéan-Jacques wouldn't ever practice law, however — in fact, his PoliSci degree would be even more useful to him. While in college, he became active politically, protesting Vietnam, participating in some civil rights marches, and joining the Students for a Democratic Society, a socialist youth organization, until it dissolved in 1974. He helped run a small leftist pirate radio station out of a van that broadcasted revolutionary music from around the world, ranging from Rage Against the Machine to Silvio Rodriguez, as well as organizing protests and marches before their operation was busted due to an anonymous tip. J.J. wasn't present when that happened — and although there have been rumors and allegations that he was a part of Free DC Radio, nothing has ever been proven. But it piqued his interest in radio, which he would turn to much later in life. He also made comments around that time expressing sympathy towards the Weather Underground, a radical left-wing terrorist organization.
By the time he graduated from law school, his views had tempered a little, and he turned slightly towards a more mainstream Democratic position — his entry into Democratic politics came just after law school, where an opinion piece he wrote for the Hoya, the Georgetown student newspaper, that argued in favor of decriminalization of marijuana, was seen by the campaign manager for a liberal Baltimore house candidate in 1978, running against the moderate not-Milkulski in the Democratic primary. Jéan-Jacques interviewed for the position of speechwriter, and won it — but his candidate lost the primary to not-Milkulski, who went on to win reelection. Still, it marked Jéan-Jacques's entry into Democratic politics.
Jéan-Jacques would work on the candidate's campaign again, in 1980, this time working as both his speechwriter and chief of staff, after his previous one resigned. This time, the primary was more intense, with J.J.'s boss polling above not-Milkulski a month before the primary election — but after some public disagreements with him, J.J. split from the progressive candidate — criticizing his hawkish views and what J.J. perceived as moving to the center. He found a space to air his complaints on a local Baltimore news show, where he spent an hour harshly attacking his former boss. With a sudden vicious attack from the inside of his campaign, the candidate started to suffer in the polls, his progressive image weakened. Eventually he lost the primary once again to not-Milkulski, whether or not Jéan-Jacques had any effect on that is up for debate.
After the 1980 election, with encouragement from a friend, Jéan-Jacques decided to start his own political career. He ran for the Baltimore city council in 1981, in an impoverished inner city district on a pledge to bring a library of books to every public school in Baltimore. He won the election, and immediately turned his focus towards accomplishing his mission. He submitted an official city bill to enact his program and allot the necessary funds, a couple million dollars — the bill was promptly ignored, despite Jéan-Jacques' repeated speeches on the town hall floor. When the budget for that year was passed, J.J. was outraged to learn that millions were allocated towards building a new town hall instead of going towards books.
As a protest, J.J. submitted a new bill, worded differently, every day until the new town hall was finished. Afterwards, he refused to sit in the new town hall that he said was built "using the funds that should go to the children of Baltimore", instead he moved a desk outside onto the town hall steps and had an aide run messages and votes into the building. This quickly gained him the attention of both the national media and the Governor of Maryland, both of which pressed the city council to follow through on Jéan-Jacques's books plan. They conceded, and allocated even more money than J.J. expected, as well as placing him at the helm of a committee to oversee the distribution of the books, in an attempt to avoid a further political embarrassment at his hands.
Surprisingly, J.J. the people chose for his committee weren't mostly librarians and teachers from the area, as expected — the lineup included a legal professor pushing for an inclusion of African-American studies in college curriculums; a gay rights/AIDS activist who wrote several childrens books on sexuality; various local journalists and activists; and a local teacher who came under fire for assigning Night, a graphic memoir of the Holocaust, as homework for a middle school students.
Subsequently, the assortment of books proposed included titles dealing with race, profanity, sexuality, religion, and books perceived by the conservative school board as "encouraging rebellious behavior". The program was popular among students and teachers, but the Baltimore school board were appalled by the subjects presented. They demanded Jéan-Jacques's resignation, and for the program to be discontinued until a new slate of books, decided by the school board, could be approved. The program wasn't discontinued, but the mayor, fearing a political crisis, allowed the individual schools to curate their selections — which Jéan-Jacques called out in an interview as "complete and utter bulls—t". Jéan-Jacques became a target for conservatives, and a hero for the dwindling progressive wing. Not-Reagan denounced him on TV as "poisoning hearts and minds" to which Jéan-Jacques responded that not-Reagan was "a Hollywood airhead who struggles to read a book, much less know what books our kids should be reading".
Riding off of his newfound publicity, Jéan-Jacques began a campaign for mayor of Baltimore in the mayoral election of 1983. His early campaign was doing well in the polls, concerning even the popular incumbent mayor not-Schaefer — but come election time, he was trounced, garnering only 3% of the primary vote. Schaefer's coalition of urban minorities and wealthier suburban Whites managed to hold through, and although Jéan-Jacques later launched an independent campaign in the general election, he lost soundly again.
That doesn't mean he was without supporters — the devoted band of followers that he gathered as a rebellious councilman called themselves the "Jacquobins". After his unsuccessful mayor bid, Jéan-Jacques landed a job at a new leftist magazine called the Progressive Underground, where all the staff writers wrote under pseudonyms. His name was "Pascal", after his friend from Canada, now a prominent lawyer for a lobbying firm. For a few years, Jéan-Jacques disappeared from the public life, until 1989.
That year, as a response to rising crime, Jéan-Jacques reentered the political scene with another bid for mayor in the 1991 election. He laid out a plan to combat drugs that would be considered progressive even by 2007 standards, with a focus on treating addictions instead of punishing them, investing more money into schools and poor neighborhoods, and instituting rehabilitation programs in the violent and overcrowded Baltimore prisons. His plan was derided by Republicans and Democrats — but Jéan-Jacques found much more support among the Black community than he did in 1983. They were overly targeted by police, with Black incarceration disproportionately high, and saw, if not a light of hope in Jéan-Jacques, at least a change in the commonly accepted crime-fighting strategies. In the Democratic primary, with the help of Black voters, he narrowly eked out a 51% victory over the incumbent mayor.
In the general election, he expected an easy race in the heavily Democratic city. But the incumbent mayor ran as an Independent — in the end, Jéan-Jacques managed to win a plurality of the vote, only barely breaching 39% — the incumbent won 36%, and a surprisingly strong conservative Democrat candidate 23%. This meant Jéan-Jacques was heading for a runoff, scheduled for the late summer of 1991.
And he headed to that runoff — armed with a skimpy campaign chest gathered from various progressive groups and individual donors. Facing off against a popular Democratic incumbent, backed by the Maryland DNC, and every White person and every rich person in Baltimore, scared to hell over the prospect of Jéan-Jacques's radical policies being implemented with the backing of a powerless city council, scared to stand up to a political rebel since law school.
J.J. couldn't afford many ads, or so he attacked solely over one medium — radio, which had held a special place in his heart since Free DC. He called himself the "radio candidate", his gimmick was over-the-top radio ads, in a wide variety of stations, from classical music to hip-hop to talk radio. You'd never see a Jéan-Jacques ad on a bus stop or between innings. But you'd hear them in the car, or in stores, or while sneaking a transistor into jury duty to hear a play-by-play of the Super Bowl.
His campaign rented a spot on the airwaves, 102.2 FM, where his staff would answer questions from listeners 16 hours a day, occasionally featuring J.J. on his own show to debate trolls and hash out policy proposals. Jéan-Jacques was active on the streets at the same time — he marched in the pride parade, picketed the Baltimore bus depot alongside striking workers, and handed out water bottles in the Baltimore Running Festival. He made a name for himself as a mayor for the people of Baltimore, who was down to earth alongside them, instead of cooped up in city hall. He rarely wore a tie, instead favoring a zip up starter jacket or an Orioles jersey alongside his classic haircut and circular glasses. He garnered respect even among political opponents and people who opposed his policies. The incumbent's lead on the polls was slowly dipping day-by-day.
Come election time, and the tension was building — a group of young right-wing agitators trying to stop what they called the transformation of Baltimore into "a crime-infested cesspit" vandalized Jéan-Jacques's campaign headquarters and spray painting "go to hell n———rs" on the window. Supporters of J.J. responded by throwing a brick through the windows of a truck with Confederate flags and "Don't Tread On Me" bumper stickers at a rally for the Republican candidate — a small fight later broke out, with two hospitalized. Jéan-Jacques and all of his opponents denied involvement and condemned the attacks.
On primary election night, J.J., his campaign team, and some family were gathered in the basement of the small building they were renting as his campaign headquarters for the watch party. Eventually, more of Jéan-Jacques's supporters started coming in to watch, until eventually the building was too crowded and they had to move outside — they set up a huge TV in the park, with a crowd gathered around it huddling in the cold. Cheers rang out as not-David Duke lost his bid for governor of Louisiana. But the loudest cheers went up when NBC declared, with a razor-thin margin of victory, that Jéan-Jacques St. Cierge had become the Democratic candidate for mayor of Baltimore. He easily swept in the General Election, but with low turnout.
The election attracted national attention. A progressive underdog beat a well-funded Democratic establishment member in the primary, then he beat him again by a 1% margin in the general election. The political rebel with a unique campaigning strategy had touched the hearts of the people. Did he represent a new era for the Democratic party? Was that going to be the way to win elections from now on?
But at that point, Jéan-Jacques couldn't care less about national politics. He instantly went to work. On his first day, he reshuffled the already progressive Baltimore PD, placing a new emphasis on aiding the community as well as fighting criminals. He recommended a slate of public defenders to the governor, to fill vacancies in the Maryland court — unusual, as most judges are picked from prosecutors. He twisted arms in the legislature to get them to vote on a corporate tax increase, for the express (and public) purpose of providing schools with the basic supplies they need, many of which were lacking. He worked with the Maryland state legislature to implement rehabilitation programs in jails, and for ex-felons, and even offered bonuses to businesses that hired felons who graduated from that program. He stopped construction of a new highway expansion out of the city — instead, he diverted the money towards fixing potholes in inner Baltimore. His popularity remained higher than many expected, especially among Black constituents.
Until a police officer was shot by a man high on cocaine. The BPD had received reports the man was terrorizing people, and threatening them with his gun, but the police refused to tase him when he refused to comply and put down his gun. After he shot the police officer, he was shot 19 times by the police. The officer was paralyzed for six months, but survived.
This invited widespread criticism at Jéan-Jacques's policy towards community rehabilitation rather than criminal detention — despite the increase of funding, students still ended up in gangs and the crime rate was still high. His other policies were successful but not his policy on crime — as it went down in New York under the tough-on-crime approach of not-Giuliani, there was more pressure on J.J. to follow suit. He refused, dropping his popularity. But the murder rate also started to drop, as a part of the nationwide trend of a decrease in crime and murders. Jéan-Jacques tried to claim that his policies were a reason for that — but very few believed him, and his popularity, while it rose back up again, never reached the levels at the start of his term.
In 1995, Jéan-Jacques braced himself for the fight of his life; the mayor he unseated was coming back with a vengeance and a tough-on-crime platform that promised to eliminate drugs in the city and boost power to the police. J.J. found himself with more resources now, and branched out of only radio ads, but he knew that he would lose unless he could find something to implement that would raise his popularity.
Jéan-Jacques went to the state legislature and asked for $400 million for an art museum that would rival the best ones in the US. The governor hesitantly granted it — and he wasn't disappointed by the result. The Baltimore Museum of Art was a massive glass building laid out in the shape of a flying bird from the sky, and it contained works only by American artists, from the Hudson Valley School of Art to a Basquiat mural on the wall. The museum, he said, represented a step into the future of America. It became a tourist attraction, with thousands of visitors from DC, Virginia, and Philadelphia coming every weekend.
But that political stunt didn't boost his approval ratings pretty much at all. He wasn't looking good coming into the Democratic primary, and he lost by 3%, another very small margin. Jéan-Jacques was ready to give up — but the Jacquobins persuaded him to run an independent write-in candidacy. It didn't go anywhere, and Jéan-Jacques wouldn't became mayor of Baltimore again.
He decided to step back from politics a little bit at that time, and he flew back to Maine to open up a hard cider distillery. The new mayor (but not actually new because he held the position before J.J.) saw his tough-on-crime approach flounder, and was met by resentment and criticism from the Black community. A reporter from the Washington Post reached in in Maine, and asked his thoughts:Mayor not-Kurt Schmoke, honestly, has no idea what he's doing, has no idea how to help Baltimore, and has no idea how he won in the first place. He's old news; outdated and irrelevant. Everybody knows that. He's a moron. There's no room for civil political discourse at this point — there's only room for protest.
That article brought him back into the national spotlight briefly — but when asked if he would run for mayor again, he firmly replied that he wouldn't. But Jéan-Jacques didn't enjoy his little distillery — in 1996, he sold it and moved to DC.
In DC Jéan-Jacques became a campaign advisor to some liberal politicians. He helped them create a persona for himself, something he did very well, and through this he made some connections with media groups — in the summer of that year, he became a guest pundit on CNN, captivating audiences with his no-holds-barred approach. He would criticize politicians he disliked relentlessly, and he would bring a perspective shared by many people on the street to the news studio. He quickly became a favorite pundit on CNN — they considered giving him his own show, but he turned it down, refusing to work for a syndicated corporation.
In 1997, Jéan-Jacques and some other pundits, friends, and businesspeople decided to start up their own syndicated radio company, that would be all opinion panels and no investigative reporting, unlike NPR. They called their company American Streets Broadcasting Corporation, ASBC, and headquartered it in DC. With the backing of a wealthy Australian businessman, their company found a niche as a talk radio, but only for politics. They'd host prominent politicians on their show to discuss policy, which would often devolve into debates between Jéan-Jacques and whoever was in the news that day.
In 1999, Jéan-Jacques got a special hour-long radio program at morning prime time, titled "Waffles and Congress"
Other Info: Likes to hang around on online forums, his favorite of which is this political site called NationStates.
Devoted Catholic.
Speaks Acadian-Quebecois French and English. He also has dual Canadian-American citizenship.
I have read and accepted the rules of the roleplay: Madrinpoor
Do Not Remove: DRAFT123123
by Lavan Tiri » Sat Mar 05, 2022 6:35 pm
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