Economies of spin

Loosely Speaking by Nancy Gaines

Eight days before the election, GOP congressional candidate Peter Torkildsen canceled reservations for some $75,000 in radio and TV ads, prompting incumbent John Tierney's camp to snipe that they must be running out of money. No, says Torkildsen aide Gene Hartigan, we just moved the money into direct mail, "which is more effective." Yeah, sure, sniffs Tierney consultant Michael Goldman (Tierney's campaign has spent some $450,000 on radio and TV plus direct mail). "Direct mail's so effective -- that's why TV costs 50 times more."

Remembering the real Sarge The epitaphs for former governor Francis W. Sargent, who died last week, were all strikingly similar -- Sarge had charisma, he made people laugh. They were also all strikingly shortsighted. Frank Sargent was, in fact, the most important governor in modern Massachusetts, a radical who defined the liberal agenda for the ensuing quarter-century and reshaped for all time the paradigm of state government. For better or worse, it was Sarge, the Yankee Republican, who embodied the legacy of the activist '60s, sweeping Massachusetts from its clannish postwar politics into an era of activist government that set the stage for national change. In his six years in office (he completed John Volpe's term and was elected in 1970), Sargent created the first statewide environmental law and the first women's-rights and students'-rights boards. He forced desegregation of the state senate and deinstitutionalization of the mentally ill, ushered in the handicapped-rights movement, mandated welfare reform and prison reform, fought for abortion rights and gun control, and single-handedly stopped highway construction that would have decimated the city's neighborhoods. He created the first youth-services department, established no-fault insurance and bilingual and special-needs education, and instituted urban planning that forced developers to comply. In 1970, Sargent signed into law a bill (later declared unconstitutional) making it illegal for the federal government to send Bay Staters to fight in an undeclared war, and he ordered the State House flag lowered in protest over the Kent State shootings. All this, of course, cost money, and in 1974 the taxpayers struck back, electing Michael Dukakis. Who left nobody laughing.

It's in the genes

There's good news and bad news about Adam Bledsoe, the younger brother of Patriots quarterback Drew. The good news is that Adam, now a sophomore quarterback for the University of Colorado, plays like Drew. The bad news is -- you guessed it -- that he plays like Drew. Young Bledsoe was sacked six times last Saturday, for minus 26 yards, and lost a fumble that was turned into a touchdown in his team's 33-17 upset loss to Kansas.

Devil lite

Satan's "power rating" is decidedly down this Halloween. A recent New York Times dispatch describing a French priest's exorcism of a village church where candlesticks began mysteriously flying about informs us that "modern theologians have been playing down" the devil's influence. Boston University religion professor Paula Fredriksen, an author and recognized expert in such matters, confirms the devil's apparent drop-off in activity. In the early days of Christianity, she says, demons were part of the common explanation for many phenomena now attributed to natural causes. "These beliefs in the devil were hot-wired into the early Christian belief system . . . Jesus' day job was to cast out demons." But, says Fredriksen, Satan continues to have importance in today's skeptical world: "You can't have predestination without figuring him in." In other words, even though he's been effectively cut out of the big stuff, the traditional alibi "The devil made me do it" continues to be in play. Go candles.

Native intelligence

For those who wondered why Mike McCurry's first public appearance after leaving his job as Clinton press secretary was a talk at Suffolk University, the answer lies -- as do so many peculiarities of Boston -- with George Regan, who is both PR person for Suffolk and, it seems, the new employer of McCurry's former secretary. . . . Alanis Morissette pulled a diva drill at her one-night stand at Avalon last week that left employees as mad as, well, Alanis. First she brought in all her own security people, forcing the house security folks out on the street, then she demanded that no drinks be rung up while she was performing. Bartenders could take orders and write down what was owed from whom (ensuring chaos), but no ching-chings allowed. . . . Meanwhile, over on State Street, the new noodle and tapas bar named Goemon has opened downstairs at Tatsukichi, the Japanese restaurant. Master chef Nabuo Watanabe presides over the French-influenced menu at this Goemon, the reincarnation of three popular but now-defunct Goemons around town.