A conversation with a stranger

Summer in Washington, DC has retired to the confines of our memories, and though the air is still warm and comfortable, the fading evening light reminds us that autumn has claimed its place on this year’s stage. As the wind rustles thirsty leaves sucking down their last sips of green, the American landscape is dotted with the reds and blues of another kind of season – campaign time – when political yard signs celebrate that most hallowed of democratic occasions. What is more fundamental to democracy than participation in the political process, when citizens gather together to rally around those whom they wish to represent them in a government for the people, by the people?

As I stood among the red brick buildings of an old colonial town, where fading sunlight streamed from the heavens and illuminated the myriad of stars and stripes hanging from buildings and lampposts, I contemplated the democratic process and the empowerment of someone like me, a common citizen. I soon found myself engaged in conversation about it with a middle-aged man donning the candidate’s name on his shirt and a round sticker on his chest to match. This is the essence of being, I thought, to be in control of one’s own destiny, to have a voice in policymaking. Attention eventually turned to the merits of democracy promotion over the course of our discussion, especially the successes and failures of it in the Middle East, and I brought up the subject of economic reform.

“Economic reform?” he repeated as he looked at me like I had said the sky was green. “What does economic reform have to do with democracy?” Now, I have been at CIPE for nearly three years, enough time to have learned a thing or two about the relationship between political and economic reform, but it always surprises me when someone does not understand the link.

“The two have to happen simultaneously if true reform is to take root,” I began. “He who controls the purse strings controls everything, right? If elected leaders take office and it’s economics as usual, nothing is going to change. Who cares if a country goes to vote if the officials ignore the people once in office?”

“But people have to be able to vote to elect leaders to make economic policy that benefits them.”

“You know as well as I do that those who run for office in what are termed ‘emerging democracies’ are all too often elites who are only in it for themselves. It all comes down to corruption. The Middle East is plagued by it – it’s their number one problem, in my opinion. Forget fundamentalism or poverty – those are mere symptoms of the disease. See, the relationship between those who control the economy – business leaders – and those who control the state – policymakers – is so incestuous that you often can’t find any line separating the public sector from the private sector. And in many countries, especially in the Gulf, state-owned enterprises dominate economies, so there really is no line at all.”

“So what does that have to do with democracy?”

“It’s all about governance. The adoption of good governance practices leads to transparency and accountability, culminating in the separation of the state and leading business interests. Without this separation, genuine democratic governance cannot occur, as the corporatist nature of countries’ political and economic systems effectively bar market reform. Government involvement just causes distortions in the market system. You have to make business leaders understand that they are only hurting themselves by not modernizing their governance practices, that people don’t want to invest in countries where corruption reigns supreme. By reforming the economic sector of a country, you can also reform the political sector.”

“Well, that’s interesting. I never thought of it that way. It’s like it makes the government more transparent, too. We should tell our candidate to talk more about it when he’s talking about democracy. Why isn’t there more emphasis on economic reform in development?”

“That’s a whole other issue. You want to grab a pint and I’ll try to explain it to you?”

Everything is so pretty

I was reading an article in the Post today about how gop scandals are hurting Ohio candidates, when an odd thought struck me. See, Laura Bush is stumping for Ohio candidates because none of the crooked men in power are held in a positive light and Femme Bush has approval ratings in the sixties. Why?

Laura Bush has been a wife throughout this administration. "A wife? Of course she's a wife!" you say. Yes, but that is all she is. She had a Christmas special where she decorated the White House. She reads books to children. She does not have an air of intellectual quality about her.

Wait! I am not criticizing Femme Bush. I am not saying that she is an idiot by any means. Frankly, I don't have a negative opinion about her. Truth is, I don't really think about her at all unless she is in the news, and well, today she is in the news, and so I am thinking about her. And I am disheartened a bit. See, Femme Bush has a positive approval rating because she is simply a wife. She doesn't try to make policy. She doesn't use big words when she speaks. She decorates. She dresses well (usually). She has wife hair. In short, she plays a more traditional woman's role: the subservient housewife.

I know many people did not like Hillary because she didn't act like an elegant princess. People want Jackie O. They got an ambitious woman with a highly successful career, and many people hated her for it. They would tune her out when she opened her mouth regardless of anything she said. They used her health care reform failure as an indication that she was a failure in life. They created a caracature of her so far removed from who she really is that a whole movement developed dedicated towards hating her. I suspect that these rabid rightwingers hold the view, whether they are conscious of it or not, that women should be subservient to men.

Laura Bush makes me wonder when we are going to get with the times and elect a female head of state. Britain had Maggot Thatcher. Pakistan, a Muslim country, had Benazir Bhutto. Nicaragua, Bangladesh, India, Rwanda, and Sri Lanka have had women prime ministers. If Condi weren't hanging out in the tenth circle of Hell with the rest of this administration, I probably wouldn't loathe the idea of her as president. (No, I wouldn't vote for her regardless.) I'm tired of hearing "this country isn't ready for a woman present," especially when it spills from the mouths of Democrats. It isn't time? Well then, when? When is the time? With this attitude, the time is never, and I'm not going to settle for never.

The Saints Are Coming

Wow. That performance was intense. I actually watched Monday Night Football last night, and I'm pretty indifferent about football. This wasn't about football though, it was about symbols. We as humans are dependent on symbols as tangible reminders of intangible concepts like memory, emotion, ideology, and god. It's why we build memorials and monuments and statues.

The Superdome had come to symbolize the tragedy of the storm that swallowed an American city. Last night, that stadium came to symbolize the resilience of the human spirit, hope, and rebirth.

I cried to my daddy on the telephone, How long now, Until the clouds unroll and you come home the line went, But the shadows still remain since your descent. The song I tuned into watch, a cover of The Skids' The Saints Are Coming performed by U2 and Green Day, could not have been more fitting. Not only did the title work for the football team and the lyrics fit the flood, but the underlying darkness and anger that was driven by The Edge's guitar and Tres Cool's drums spoke of loss, human suffering, and the mess that was made by those we've elected to protect the general welfare. The darkness behind the music was countered by Bono's ever-present message of hope and redemption.

A drowning sorrow floods the deepest grief, How long now, Until a weather change condemns belief, The stone says this paternal guide once had his day. The two bands performed together to benefit Music Rising, a charity to help New Orleans musicians acquire new instruments and reestablish the musical tradition of the birthplace of jazz. The Edge and producer Bob Erzin wanted to bring the music back to New Orelans, so they and Gibson Guitars formed the organization.

From the few criticisms I've seen of the show, the comment seems to be "what does U2 have to do with New Orleans?" The haters never cease to find something to bitch about, do they? Musicians and other artists share a common bond; I pity the soulless creatures who don't understand music, who cannot be moved by the mathematics of sound, who find nothing but contempt in their hearts.

See Gentilly and Lakeview
Crescent City right in front of you
Birds sing in broken trees
They're coming home to New Orleans
Lower 9th will rise again
Above the waters of Lake Pontchartrain
See the bird with the leaf in her mouth
After the flood all the colors came out.

How is it that more than a year later, New Orleans is still a disaster? Why are we spending billions of dollars a year on a war in a foreign land when mother nature has fought a war with us on our own soil? Why can't we spend money on problems in our own country? The saints are coming, the saints are coming, I say no matter how I try, I realise there's no reply.

It's too bad it was a mere football game, for those who felt something last night probably forgot it this morning (Never Forget!™ echo, echo, echo...) Still, being able to play a football game in that wreck of the stadium was a giant step forward in rebuilding the great American city of New Orleans. Oh yeah, the Saints have come back, come hell and high water. Here's to hoping the rest of the city comes back, too. How long now?

You can download the song here - proceeds go to Music Rising. The video of the entire performance of Wake Me Up When September Ends/The Saints Are Coming/Beautiful Day can also be found there for a limited time.

Nostalgia (part 2)

Part one here

Upon graduating from high school, I attended Miami University, a school located in he heart of gopland and whose 4% minority population is a good indication of the homogeneity of its student body. Miami's political claim to fame is its aluminus president, Benjamin Harrison, a man who's grandfather gave us an important life lesson: never stand in the January rain to give a lengthy speech. The political science building, just another of the red brick buildings on campus, is named after grandson, who in his quest for Governor of Indiana was "unfairly" stigmatized as "Kid Gloves" Harrison, according to the White House website. (I was not aware that biographies of presidents were rewritten at the change of an administration - the propensity for spin and disinformation of the gops never ceases to amaze me.)

There was an active campus political culture while I was there, though it was pretty one-sided the first year. I attended a meeting of the College Democrats that year, a meeting consisting of no more than ten people, though numbers were down for the GOP Youth, too. The next year, the College Dems were a force to be reckoned with, so much so that our president, Chad, who has since had a very successful career, was recognized by the Party for his efforts.

At one point during that glorious autumn, we drove up to Dayton from Oxford for a rally, getting there too late to get close enough to really see President Clinton. Southwest Ohio - gopland - turned out in droves to see the leader of the world. Oh, disappointment was great, for I could only see a tiny, gray-haired man in the distance, but I could hear his voice, and it called out to the heavens for justice in this cruel world. Yes, I believed in the hope behind his voice, never once considering the conscienceless force that loomed over the halls of our legislature.

When the air was pumpkin crisp and the trees raged about the loss of their green, we traveled through the Appalachian inferno to Washington, DC. We had been invited to the Clinton campaign headquarters as a result of President Chad's efforts in SW Ohio gopland - it was the thrill of a lifetime. If you've never been in a presidential campaign headquarters a few weeks before an election, go sometime. They have the energy of a billion thunderstorms, a mass of hope and tension and excitement swirling amidst the din of phonebank chatter and yardsign wallpaper. I stopped by the Kerry HQ a few days before the election - has it really been two years? - and I grew drunk on the feeling of possibility. It was quite a hangover, too. I still have it.

I've lived in DC for 3.5 years - has it really been 3.5 years? - but my memories of that first trip are of a foreign place, a place void of violent crackheads, disfunctional transit, horrendous traffic, overpriced housing, rampant racism, and Republicans in the White House. The memory of the first time I laid eyes on the pillared mansion has taken on a mythical quality, when the gift of reverence had bestowed on me the sense that I was looking at a castle in a fairytale rather than a house owned by me, an American taxpayer. The man inside that house had the power of God, but I, a voter, was his boss. Some of the outrage we "Bush haters" have is a result of Bush's refusal to accept the fact that he is accountable to we the people. FDR once said "I never forget I live in a house owned by all the American people and that I have been given their trust." The quote has been immortalized at the FDR memorial. Bush should visit sometime; he could learn something, if indeed he is capable of learning, for judging by what we've seen in the past six years, the guy is an anti-sponge, a racquetball wall.

While staring up at the elegant house before me, I strained my eyes to look through the windows hoping I could catch a glimpse of the man, harboring an unrealistic hope that he would come out to meet us. When we went inside to tour, goosebumps rose to the surface of my skin, for the thrill of being in the same building as my hero was overwhelming.

I wish I could recapture some of that enthusiasm I had for DC back then, but that is what happens when you become familiar with something. I can agree with much of what is written on why.i.hate.dc, though I wouldn't say I hate DC; I just need a break from it. If I get that break, I will return when progressive-minded folk roam the city's streets instead of the cardboard cutout silver-spooned GOP brats and arrogant policymaking bastards who drink from its watering holes these days. (Sorry, I'm just a bit tired of DC these days.)

To be continued after I see Clinton on Faux News...

Schizophrenic Freedom

Economic freedom - a term used by such greedmongering tanks as the Fraser Institute and the Heritage Foundation, good old bastions for the GOP, as insulated from the real world as the crackheads on the streets of DC - is not freedom. The idea of economic freedom is not a bad one, mind you, but it is the force behind the phrase that has warped its definition to something far more sinister.

The annual indices these organizations put out consider size of government; expenditures, taxes, and enterprises; property rights; access to sound money; trade policy; informal market activity; and the regulation of credit, labor, and business, among other indicators. Sounds benign, right? The indices themselves are benign - it's how they are used that is the problem. See, the indices are used by foreign investors to determine whether or not a country has a safe investment climate. Foreign Direct Investment is the new colonialism.

Of course, if you say something like this, it's all "moonbattery," isn't it? Is it? What is colonialism? Colonizers dominated the resources, labor, and markets of the colonial territories and also imposed socio-cultural and linguistic structures on the conquered populations. How is that different than Western multinational corporations moving into developing countries, setting up shop, and dominating a country's economy? Who gets the profits from FDI? Who is in the most powerful positions in the world today?

Those at the top are the ones whose lives revolve around the billions of dollars they make a year, the ones who rule the world without a conscience, the Carlysle Group, Club for Growth types. While wealthy people like Bill Gates are using their billions to make the world a better place, the Growth worshippers exist to control governments so that they themselves will benefit, so they will become richer than they already are. These are the people who preach the "power of the individual," who demonize government regulation so they are free to stomp on whomever they can to suck down more profits.

What do they want? The freedom to return to man's state of nature, where it is every man for himself, where we live in a constant state of war? Excessive individualism has repeatedly led to the downfall of civilizations. Plato attributed this individualism to the decline of Athenian democracy. He didn't predict the downfall of Athens - he opened his eyes and witnessed his country declining in front of him. By no means are Plato's ideas perfect, but there are lessons learned in his writings.

The freedom to pursue material things is not freedom at all. Indeed, it is quite the opposite. It is slavery. This is why the Club for Growth types who propel the global economy are so Orwellian. They are slaves to their own desires, and we all must suffer because of it. Let me use the real estate industry as an example. Housing should be a fundamental right, as it is one of the basic necessities of living. However, in DC, for example, a twenty something person like myself has to spend at least half a month's pay on rent to live in a place that is safe enough to walk through. It's wrong, but I don't have a choice. Personal choice advocates are those who have the means to make a choice, but those of us on the bottom of the totem pole don't have that choice.

This Growth Monster has become a leviathan that is difficult to combat. We all saw what the Swift Boat Assholes (they don't deserve to be called veterans) did during the 2004 election cycle. Well, they're back, under a different name: the Economic Freedom Fund, a 527 group formed by the infamous Robert J. Perry, the swiftboat asshole. (He is the little man on the front of the swiftboat travelling through Hell in the picture. Photoshop rox.) He and the assholes he surrounds himself with, including Cincinnati tycoon and former Cincinnati Reds majority owner Carl Lindner, will be out in full force this election. They've been busy suing Indiana, but no doubt they'll have plenty of time to spread their lies in the next month.

Economic freedom is a code word for aristocracy. It has nothing to do with real freedom. Islamic fundies in Al-Qaeda follow the philosophy of Sayed Qutb, a man who described Western obsession with material things as "hideous schizophrenia." With assholes like Robert J. Perry and Carl Lindner, it's no wonder we are engaged in a war with Islamic extremists.

Nostalgia (part 1)

Autumn has the distinction of being the season of nostalgia, a sensual time when memories carry us to winter's dark embrace. We're moving into a strange, exciting, and terrifying election season to determine the fate of the world, and the cooler air is reminding me of campaigns past, more luminous times when I had hope that the world wanted peace and was prepared to do anything to achieve it.

When I was in sixth grade, our school held a mock presidential election, complete with voting booths and poll workers. Of course, the purpose was to teach students about voting (I wonder if today's schools would be allowed to conduct a similar election or if that would be deemed "too political.") I remember dressing in red, white, and blue that morning, as if I were going to cheer on my favorite sports team. I laugh when I think of how I "voted" for George H. W. Bush, though a part of me still harbors a secret horror at the thought. How was I to know? I was 12, and I was a member of the myriad of American families of Reagan worshippers.

Everything was different in 1992, however, when I was a sophomore in high school and wore my Clinton/Gore button proudly. I recall debates with other students in the halls among the clamor of lockers and idle chatter. I scoured the newspapers for articles on the campaign in those pre-internet days and watched every television program that came on, including the debates, where Clinton wiped the floor with his opponents. I was 15, my mind already forming independent thoughts, however ignorant. I laugh at that ignorance, but a part of me is horrified that at age 15 I was more informed than many of today's voters.

He stood tall and proud, eyes glistening with the light of hope, the tinge of gray in his hair distinguished and demanding respect even from his older opponents. He made the old man with the Texas twang and the business mogel who talked like a cartoon look like fools. His voice cracked in all the right places, his words were educated and inspiring, and that thing he did with his hand, well, it was a half open fist, passive yet threatening.

I fell in love with this man for many reasons, above all his background. He was the antithesis of the elitism we see in today's network of powermongering bastards who flaunt their silver spoons and spit venom at anyone who dares to hold the American Dream. Even as a naive 15 year old I understood what this man represented. He told me I could be anything I wanted. He told me there was a reason to hope, that there was nothing to fear in the world. He was the son of an alcoholic, abusive father and a mother whose name was different than his own, a poor kid who wanted to be the leader of the world and to fix the problems of the nation so others would not have to suffer through a childhood like his. I will always love him because of this, despite his flaws, for he is the epitome of the promise of our forefathers - that all men are created equal.

My senior year of high school is most characterized by my government class, and specifically, the teacher, Steve Weadock. It wasn't until much later that I realized many of my teachers were not only Democrats, but active members of the party. One of Clinton's electors was a government teacher at my school, though I never had him as a teacher. Did my teachers influence my political persuasion? No. Did they help me understand why I felt an inclination towards the left side of the political spectrum? Most definitely yes.

To be continued...

On the disunity of our country

I spent most of the summer out of the political realm. I had to, for the bickering, the fighting, and my resident troll was getting to me. Sure, I posted a news link on washingtonrox every now and then, but my real blogging this summer was at my baseball blog, Church of Baseball. It was great to write about something I love without namecalling or arguments. I know some of those who read Church of Baseball are on the right side of the political spectrum, but it didn't matter, because we were unified in our love for the game.

But now I am contemplating putting up political banners in the Church. I am afraid that by putting them up, I will alienate some readers who hadn't known my political persuasion. I know everyone is well aware that the guy who runs the most popular Reds blog, Red Reporter, is on SB Nation, a sports network that has something to do with Kos, so I'm not too worried about what most of them will have to say. It's the other blogs I'm worried about. In the blogosphere, automated vitriol is spewed at those who stand on the poles of the spectrum, and I certainly don't want people to stop reading Church of Baseball because I stand on the opposite pole.

Yesterday, I made a comment on a Republican's blog, Land of the Free, Home of the Brave. It was a simple "it's going to be an interesting election" type of comment, and she responded in a similar manner. This civil exchange was refreshingly wonderful and I wish there was more of it. It's funny, but it took baseball and the fun I've had with Reds fans this summer to make me step back and see how insane the division in our country is and how much I crave civility in American political discourse.

So you may think, why bother putting the banners up? Well, what about those undecideds? What if I can help Sherrod Brown and Jim Webb and thereby our country, by persuading a person or two that the two are worthy of investigation?

Why has it come to this?

This one's flailing

Incumbent New Jersey Senator Robert Menedez is behind in recent polls, 48% - 45%. The Dems can't afford to lose a Senate seat they have, so we need to focus on this race in particular, among others like Pennsylvania and Virginia.

Menendez may have fallen out of favor with some folks, but right now, the goal is to take back the Senate. Once that is achieved, we can pressure these less-than-ideal candidates into reforming.

I admit I don't know much about Menendez except that some people are unhappy with him. I'm just looking at the bigger picture at this point.

Get on over there and donate!

Like a Prayer

"I detest what you write, but I would give my life to make it possible for you to continue to write.'' ~ Voltaire (the real quote, not the misquote.)

Great. I haven't even been to work a half hour and I've already been upset by a rather un-American email message, one about Madonna, nonetheless. No stranger to controversy, Madonna has challenged her Catholic upbringing time and time again. Everyone knows by now about her "crucifixion" on the current Confessions Tour, as everyone from the Pope to the Russian Orthodox Church has condemned it. The ironic part about it is that people are calling it anti-Christian and a mockery of Christ when the purpose is

"to bring attention to the millions of children in Africa who are dying every day (or) are living without care, without medicine and without hope. I am asking people to open their hearts and minds to get involved in whatever way they can."

That isn't anti-Christian, it's the definition of Christianity!

Yes, it's called a "mock" crucifixion because it is not real. That is what mock means; it is not "mocking" the crucifixion, and it sure as hell isn't mocking Christ! Every Easter, Catholics across the world perform "mock" crucifixions when they go through the stations of the cross. It's a simple imitation. Are you making fun of turtlenecks when you wear a "mock" turtleneck? This is a lack of understanding of the English language!

Since the summer, Clear Channel Communications, the company responsible for ruining radio and the owner of a majority of radio stations in this country, has not regularly played songs from her latest album Confessions on a Dance Floor, despite a demand for them, including an online petition that was delivered to the company. They claimed the music wasn't right for top 40, but Madonna had no problems getting her songs on the radio in the rest of the world.

Now, NBC is pondering pulling the broadcast of her concert special Live to Tell, recorded during the latest leg of her hugely popular and equally controversial Confessions tour, because some people WHO HAVEN'T EVEN SEEN IT are "offended." How do you know it's offensive if you haven't seen it? This isn't judging a book by it's cover; it's judging a book by hearing the title spoken!

Remember when people screamed "freedom of speech!" when Muslims were upset over the cartoon of Mohammed with a bomb on his head? (According to their religion, it is a grave sin to depict the Prophet at all.) Madonna may have no taste, but she is no bigot, and she is entitled to express herself. See, the great thing about America is that we have this thing called "freedom of speech."

To those who may sign the petition to NBC to get the show pulled: If you're offended, please don't watch it. It really is that simple. Don't take something from other people just because you don't like it. If you are worried about your children seeing it, maybe you need to have more control over them - don't let them watch so much television, or let them watch it and explain to them that she is pleading for help for African children who don't have enough to eat. Once you start taking away one person's right to speak, others will follow, and then one day, you may find yourself in a position where you no longer have a voice. Don't give your freedom to the corporations.

Please show your support for free speech - tell NBC not to cave into pressure from religious extremists and people who disrespect the United States Constitution. Sign my petition to NBC in support of broadcasting the show (even if you don't plan to watch it.)


cross-posted on Rox Politix

Integrity now!

This is no surprise.

Graduate business students in the United States and Canada are more likely to cheat on their work than their counterparts in other academic fields, the author of a research paper said on Wednesday.

The study of 5,300 graduate students in the United States and Canada found that 56 percent of graduate business students admitted to cheating in the past year, with many saying they cheated because they believed it was an accepted practice in business...business school students described cheating as a necessary measure and the sort of practice they'd likely need to succeed in the professional world.

Is there no right and wrong in the business world? (Yes, it's profit and no profit.)

Seriously, when did integrity disappear from American (and Canadian) existence? When did truth and honesty and respect become mere words in a dictionary? Is there no such thing as honor anymore? How can 56% of graduate business students be so lazy and dishonest that they resort to unethical practices, that indeed they believe unethical practices to be acceptable?

I have so many questions, but I have no answers. These students are the future of corporte America, the next generation of those who will try to take the internet from us, who make up or over-diagnose disorders and diseases, who want to employ spies in newsrooms. And the right wonders why people have a problem with corporate America?

Enough!

The setting could not have been more appropriate – a red brick city hall building in one of the oldest cities in the country – Market Square, Alexandria, Virginia. A political rally unfolded on the square at a trying time in our nation’s history for a race that most likely determines the direction our country, and by default the world, will take.

The light fell from the September sky on this, the second to last day of summer, illuminating the stars and stripes that surrounded the square with divine light. A massive flag hung from the side of the colonial-style building, the sacred colors in their proper place for what should be a coveted event. Political rallies – there isn’t much that is more fundamental to Americana than waving a sign for the guy who you’ll pick to represent you in affairs of the world. Democracy can be beautiful with its red, white, and blue signs, ripples of arms clapping and pumping, and waves of self-determination flowing over a courtyard.

What of that self-determination? There is a sense of loss under the current administration. Discontent rumbles in the belly of the nation, a stirring amidst a sea of apathy. A populace who concerns itself with television and sports is finally getting wind of the chaos its elected officials have inflicted upon the world – all of the destruction and mayhem and senseless slaughter of its sons is awakening the slumbering masses. If only I could find faith in the American people that they will rise up and vote for a change. See, it’s the apathy that bothers me, the disconnect between the perception of what America is and what actually happens. The fact is that a lot of us who claim to be on the left side of the political spectrum are bothered by this. Apathy is a sign of a nation in decline, and goddamnit, I don’t want this country to decline!

A few hundred devoted Americans gathered at the square to kick off the final days before the election, Americans who finally see hope where it had not before existed. Children covered themselves with Webb stickers and waved Webb signs; I wanted to salute their parents for involving them in the American political process. Oh, it was exciting to participate, to listen to men who adore this country, who want to correct the wrongs that have been inflicted upon us!

Senator Barak Obama spoke, a man who represents hope to me. You can see the love for this country burning in his eyes, hear it flooding from his strangely blue lips, feel it as he transforms the air into energy, kinetic and alive and gleaming with optimism. Enough! Senator Obama, quoting Newt Gingrich, of all people, agreed with the pesky lizard that the Democrats need only two words in campaigning this autumn: had enough. Oh, he was a sweet speaker, his words ringing out over the square, over the crowd of people thirsty for their country, over the red hills of Georgia, ringing out like victory in Heaven. I love this man and look forward to working on his presidential campaign, whenever that may be. Pride swells within me and a hint of a tear comes to my eye when I think of the victory celebration, when my country finally lives up to its promise that all men are created equal, when we can scream from the mount “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

Ach, it wasn’t an Obama presidential rally, no, it was for candidate James Webb, decorated veteran, published writer of fiction, father of a Marine. I admit I went to see Senator Obama, our “rock star” as Representative Jim Moran called him. I wanted Webb to win to give us the Senate, of course, but I had been leery of that D after his name. He was, after all, a former Republican, Reagan’s Assistant Secretary of Defense and Navy Secretary, and he is using images of Reagan praising him in his television ads. I came away from the rally convinced that he was the right candidate, however. I came away inspired, full of hope, tasting optimism. I came away believing he can defeat George “Macaca” Allen.

He ended his speech with a statement that sealed the deal. “When we win, you can believe, and those of you who know me won’t be surprised, there will be beer!”

Some tibits about Jim Webb:

• He wrote the story for the movie Rules of Engagement.
• He is a big baseball fan and counts Ted Williams as one of his heroes.
• A member of his family has served in every American conflict.

Cross-posted at Raising Kaine. Thanks, guys and gals!

Don't pull another macaca!

Why does it matter if George "Macaca" Allen has Jewish roots?

It is sad that Allen's mother had to hide the fact that she was a Jew when she came to the States, but this is 2006 - isn't anti-Semitism a part of the history books? I mean, look who's in charge of the country! It's the neocons!

Get a grip, people. Don't vote for Jim Webb because Allen's a Jew, vote for Jim Webb because Allen's a warmongering racist!

Tracking Senate races

Electoral Vote is up and running again, and I must say, it is a pretty picture, though a little more blue could be added.

This was the first site I checked every morning in 2004, and I'll be checking once a day from here until November.

Jim Webb rally in Alexandria today

There is a rally today for Jim Webb, where Senator and future President Barak Obama will be speaking. The rally is at 5:30 at Market Square, 301 King Street, Alexandria, Virginia. If you're in the area, stop by and show your support for Jim Webb against Senator George "Macaca" Allen, and help the Dems take back the Senate!

Ohio River controls the fate of the world

WaPo has begun the Ohio River Ramble:

The area is ground zero in the battle for control of Congress and the larger battle between America's two major parties. The region is also emblematic of a closely divided nation -- neither the Republicans nor Democrats have a lock on its electorate.

Rothenberg said "this swath of prime campaign territory" roughly follows the Ohio River and could all be seen in a few days and 500 miles. Well readers, buy some beef jerky and grab your iPod, because we're making the trip.

Just a few days ago I was lamenting my lack of enthusiasm for this election. Suddenly, though, my interest has been piqued. Something called hope is starting to come back to me...

Maybe it's my head injury...

but I think I've just seen the latest Rasmussen report showing Sherrod Brown with a 47%-41% lead over Mike Dewine! (Of course, that doesn't take into consideration the Diebold Factor.)

In other good news, Rasmussen has shifted both Rhode Island and Montana from "toss up" to "leans Democrat."

HT: Dayton Politics via Lefty Blogs

Then secede! Good riddance!

Yesterday I missed this gibberish by Senator Saxby Chambliss:

“We need better intelligence. If we had better intelligence in the Civil War we’d be quoting Jefferson Davis, not Lincoln.”

If southerners like Chambliss hate America so much, they should leave it.

You can't spell America without "me" and "I" (3)

I've had difficulty sleeping for the past few days, rendering me extremely tired in the mornings, but this morning, fatigue got the best of me. As I was walking out the door to the steps to the sidewalk, I tripped, tumbling down three concrete stairs to the sidewalk below it. Now, if you've ever bit it while walking down a sidewalk, you know it can sting hitting the ground - sometimes people even break bones doing that - but when you tumble down three concrete stairs, well, it really hurts. (I'm not a clutz. (Proof: Most saves #2) A lack of sleep and a preoccupation with what's on my mind happened to get the best of me at that moment.) I laid on my back dazed for awhile, as I had hit my head.

I thought I had broken my wrist initially, but luckily I did not, although I wouldn't be surprised if a bone in my hand has a small fracture. I also landed directly on my left knee and twisted in such a way that I pulled something in my back and scraped my hip and right shin. Yeah, I fell that hard.

A woman who had just walked past my house looked behind her to see what had happened and then just kept walking. Truth is, I could have used some help at that point, but she just kept right on going. I nearly called out something to her but couldn't get my mouth to say anything. Now I say "damn you, selfish bitch" to her in my head. It was one of the rudest direct actions (or inactions) towards me I have ever encountered. I needed help getting to my feet, I really did. It took quite awhile for me to stand up.

I limped to the corner to catch a bus, only my head started to do strange things. I guess I was blacking out, but I fought it. I stood on that corner unable to see anything for at least thirty seconds, maybe a minute, and with my head still foggy, I crossed the street and caught the bus. (Unfortunately, I caught the dreadlocked driver who smells like pot, and the bus ride was characterized by slamming on brakes and honking the horn far too often. Every bump and every sudden stop made my body ache worse.)

That was an hour and a half ago, but I still feel like I could black out. I also still can't believe that woman just kept on walking.

A clarification

The years are rolling by for me, too quickly to keep up, really. I feel like I'm in one of those booths with money flying around, only instead of money, I'm grasping at time itself. I try to live each moment, because you know, we only get a handful of moments in our brief existence on this dizzying planet. But you can't live each moment; mankind has chosen a rather wretched way of existing with its rigid system of schooling during the years of innocence, the indentured servitude of working during the prime years of life, and leaving only the decaying years of agedness to be relatively free.

I see why the world is falling toward religion. The dearth of spirituality on our planet is rather maddening as most people embark upon their senseless material quests. I understand what they seek. We all need to give some sort of meaning to our existence, don't we? We need to know why we have to go through all of this - it's the curse of reason, no matter how unreasonable religion can seem.

I don't hate religion, as I have been accused; on the contrary, I find it a necssary part of any functional society, as countless others before me have well explained, including our country's Deist founders. It is how people use religion that I have a problem with. Religion is a very personal and intimate thing - it is a person's soul we are talking about here - the essence of individual being. While fundies go around throwing hysterical fits every time they see too much skin, the true pornography is the gross abuse of religion we see on a quotidien basis on our pathetic little planet, and not one religion is excluded from this abuse.

The latest example of abuse of religion is political activity of churches. Fortunately, the IRS, normally a bastion for intrusion on individuals, is finally making itself useful and is investigating these cheaters. You want to play politics, religious right? PAY YOUR TAXES.

People who try to force their religion on others are committing spiritual rape.

Maybe there is a candidate...

“I know what it’s like to be on the ground. I know what it’s like to fight a war like this, and either — there are limits to what the military can do. Eventually, this is going to have to move into a diplomatic environment, and that’s where this administration seems to have blinders. They are not talking to Syria, they are not talking to Iran, and there are ways that we can do this, move this forward.”

George "Macaca" Allen has a real challenger, and the Dems have hope in a state that was supposed to be safely gop. Read the Times article.

Help for who? The speechwriters?

The elevators in the building where I work have some words that light up when you press the call button. These words? "Help is on the way." I can't help but recall that disasterous slogan of the Democrats during the 2004 presidential campaign. I see John Edwards shaking his fist and saying in that drawal of his, "Hope is on the way."

I hope whoever came up with that slogan is not working in politics anymore.

Rumor mill

From Politics1:

OBAMA TRIP TO IOWA INCREASES WHISPERS ABOUT '08 RUN.

Freshman US Senator Barack Obama (D-IL) was stumping in Iowa this weekend, with US Senator Tom Harkin (D-IA) by his side. The ostensible purpose of the trip: promote Iowa Democratic candidates in the 2006 elections. First elected to the Senate just two years ago, the charismatic Obama previously discounted any interest in seeking the White House in 2008. His comments this weekend opened the door. "My only attentions right now are focused on '06. Whoever is looking toward 2008 without focusing on 2006 makes a mistake," said Obama, without disclaiming any interest in 2008.

Well, now, maybe that is something to get excited about.

An autumn thought...

It's the light that gets me - the fading light and the drowning colors. The autumn light lends a crispness to the blue of the sky, but it is a weaker light, old age-like, clinging to the last breaths of life and fighting regret with every desperate leaf hanging from thinning branches. I find the death of summer highly depressing.

Sure, I should be getting excited for autumn's election season, right? But I can't. My disillusionment has shriveled my enthusiasm like the leaves on the trees I'm looking at now. At this point the only reason I want the Democrats to take back Congress is to save the country from the hell the Republicans have thrown it into. No one really stands out among Dems, no one to inspire me or give me back the faith in this country I have lost.

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You can't spell America without "me" and "I" (2)

(Part 2 of a series)
Read part 1 here.

The bus rides in DC, at least on the route I have to take to work, are scurrilous attacks on personal comfort and sanity, leaving a rider longing for the concrete refuge of the immovable ground and the safety of solitude. (Forget the Metro management - that's a whole other issue that isn't the point of this series of posts, although having to wait ten minutes for three buses that are supposed to come one per every three minutes adds to the irritation, frustration, and aggrevation that suck the quotidien patience from me.) At any random time, unrelated to fluctuations in weather or traffic, the bus can resemble a cattle car, a sardine can, or a mosh pit, depending on how many crazies and children happen to misbehave at the time.

This morning was a typical morning. The doors opened like an obstacle on a miniature golf course - I had to hop through the opening before they closed on me. As I ascended the rubber coated stairs where millions of feet had stepped in the past, the scowling driver unleashed a fury on the gas pedal, and my frantic hands reached for whatever was available to keep my feet on the floor and save me from rolling down the aisle like the empty Coke bottle making its way to the back of the bus. I glared at the driver in her blue Metro uniform and her dreadlocks and her giant silver chain before saying "Good morning." She muttered a reply I did not understand, but hey, it's better than being ignored, which is an all too common response.

My Smart Card screamed go before I embarked on the endeavor of finding a seat. Oh, sure, there were plenty of seats available, but no one wanted to scoot over next to the window so I could sit down. This is a frequent occurence, not a good way to start a morning, especially before the stimulant of java transgresses my lips. Some of this behavior is pure racism. I have observed an incredible amount of racism on the daily bus trips - black against white, white against black, latino against white, white against latino, black against latino, white against asian, asian against latino. Sometimes I make note of the open seats on a bus and who is sitting next to them. When a person gets on, more often than not that person will go sit by a person of the same color. I hear latinos bitching all the time about how the gringos are moving into their neighborhood, as I have begun to understand their conversations after hearing an hour of Spanish every day. I've heard black and whites alike mumbling about how the latinos are taking over the entire city. I've also heard a black man say, "Move over, whitey."

Most of it, however, is not racism. Most of it is simple rudeness, a blatant inconsideration of others. People refuse to move their bags from open seats, scream on those Nextel walkie talkie phones, or simply won't move so you can sit in the empty window seats. I've seen it happen to many people. I've seen old men and women in a desperate panic as no one who is sitting in the seats reserved for seniors and disabled will get up for them. I've seen women with three or four children running around the bus or laying across seats so no one can sit there. I've even seen a woman slap a man for trying to sit next to her.

Getting off the bus is like wading through the mire of rude. If you are sitting in a window seat, the person in the aisle seat far too often refuses to stand up to let you out, but will move his/her legs to the aisle as if the inconvenience is a terminal illness. (I've taken to "accidently" letting my backpack hit these people in the face as a payback for their lazy rudeness.) But this just gets you to the aisle. Next you have to fight your way through the legions of people who stand there cold as statues. Even "excuse me" won't budge them an inch.

You'd think the word "public" in public transportation would heighten a sense of civility in a person, but no, that hasn't been the case. I sometimes feel like a bus ride is forced voyeurism. No one cares who's around - they'll just talk about whatever they feel like. This morning I heard a woman tell another woman about her gonorrhea like it was the common cold or something. I dream of one day owning an iPod to drown out the sounds and the world-o-metrobus, but until that day, I must suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous barbarisms. But hey, at least I'm learning a language.

To be continued

The reflections come anyway

Someone sent me a list of victims of 9/11 in an email, so I sent a message back with a link to WaPo's Faces of the Fallen. Then I began to try to find the names of Iraqis and Afghans. I began to look for victims of bombings in London, Bali, Madrid, Istanbul, Delhi, and Amman. There was no list for dead Pakistanis, Afghans, or so many others. I found names of British soldiers, of journalists , of Iraqi policemen, of international contractors and security guards and translators and doctors. The names, so many names, so many still unidentified or memorialized. Soldiers and Seamen - not only US and British, but Italian, Polish, Canadian, Japanese, Aussie, Kiwi, Korean...the list is endless, senseless, so many people defenseless, so many cold, so many left alone, widowed, orphaned, on the street, nothing to eat, limbless, useless.

My heart breaks and I silently mourn the world we've lost. Look at the nationalities above. Americans who wave their flags and sing their patriotic songs are selfish, arrogant, oblivious if they think that our loss is more important than the others. This is a world war like none we've seen, a global Vietnam. But - did WWII ever really end? Tell me when we as a nation have known peace? One conflict flows into another, countries crumble like dominoes, more death, more destruction, leaders murdered by other leaders in the name of ideology, theology, psychology, mythology. They call it something other than war - conflict, struggle, whatever, but it is war, yes, it is war that becomes more violent and more brutal, with every new invention, new weapons, new metals, new germs and chemicals. Hot metal slices up human bodies in ways it never has before, slicing limbs neatly, slicing heads and hearts and humanity. And cheerleaders like Sandy the troll applaud that, applaud death and destruction and the utter disrespect for human life. Yeah, Sandy, those people bomb and maim, but must we stoop to their level? Must we lose our own sense of humanity, as citizens of a country that proclaims to be founded on the rights of people? You can't defeat an ideology, Sandy. You can't slaughter the thoughts of a man. You can slice up body after body, watch as rivers flow red with the crime of spilled blood, but there will be others, many of whom take up the thoughts of those they've watched perish at the hands of a military man. How can you not understand this, Sandy? It's so simple.

We are sitting at 2,984 "War on Terror" deaths today, more than who died in the attacks. Add the number of civilians who have been killed during the "War on Terror" and we are talking nearly 20K dead since 9/11/01. God bless the world. Yesterday, classified information was leaked saying we've lost Anbar, the Sunni part of Iraq, and there isn't much hope for the Shia part, either. Afghanistan has become a warzone again. Pakistan, a country with nukes, is losing control of some of its provinces to Al-Qaeda, and Musharraf isn't too far from a coup. If we ever needed true patriots to stand up and fight for their country, it is now.

I try to avoid the endless remembrances that cheapen the tragic day. It's a morbid obsession part of this country seems to be intoxicated by. Blame is slung across the country from both sides for political gain - it's sickening, and it's how national unity was squandered. I feel like this day has been made into a cheerleading day, where people stand on the sidelines, wave their little flags, and root for the country like war is just a sporting event. I wish people would instead take this day to reflect on what is happening to our world and acknowledge we are in a war and shouldn't go about our daily lives pretending everything is normal. I am happy that people choose to spend the day with their families and hope they will talk about how lucky they are to have been born in this country and how fortunate they are to have enough food on their tables and gas in their cars and a roof over their heads when so many on this Earth, including many who fight against us, do not.

I do not believe we need yet another day to honor the dead - that is what Memorial Day is for - but we should think about these things more often, not just on remembrance days, and instead of gloating in arrogance about how America is better than the rest of the world, we should just thank God or fate or destiny or coincidence that we were born here. Remember the victims, yes, but remember all of the victims from across the globe. We are not better because we are Americans, no, but we are a hell of a lot luckier than so many people on this Earth.

You can't spell America without "me" and "I"

(Part 1 of a series)

I watched with apprehensive eyes as a rather large black woman entered a cafe with a boisterous scowl on her face, a look that told me she thought the world owed her whatever she wanted. A shabby black dress with a rather hideous floral pattern - reds and greens and yellows blinking with her movement like a disfunctional stoplight - hung on her like curtains blocking out the sunlight in a room. I sat at a table stuffed into a corner, sipping my large coffee from a paper cup, when I could do nothing but put down the book I had been reading to watch what would transpire.

As she clumped in and the distance between her and the counter was reduced to nothing, the cafe's manager braced himself for the harsh winds of her words. "Give me one of them frappuccino things," she snapped. The weary manager, whose face told me he had suffered through several like her over the course of the day, twisted his brow into a frown that anyone not totally self-absorbed could read and said, "This isn't Starbucks. We have an iced cappuccino if you would like."

The woman rolled her eyes so hard her whole head moved with them. She coughed out a disgusted sigh and then said, "Give me that, then." As she waited for her drink, hands on hips, mouth puckered like she had eaten a lemon, she pretended her legs would break from standing so long, and well, with her weight, they just might have. One of the employees began her drink while she was still in the process of paying, but I guess she thought the cafe was like a 7-11 where you stuck a cup under a machine and a "cappuccino" would come out like water, because when the drink was handed to her, politely I might add, she said, "Bout time. Where's the straw?" "They're over on that table," the manager replied. "I have to get it myself?" she said, the comical element in her fading into one of repulsion. The molasses in her legs carried her to the table, where she reached around a guy pouring milk into his coffee before making her way to the door, pushing a woman out of the way to get there.

Sadly, our days are polluted with these types more often than not, their appalling behavior more suited for demons and dictators than civilized society. Rude - that's what they used to call it, but now you have people who can't even understand the simple reasons why it's wrong to talk on a cell phone in a restaurant, let alone the implausible notion that they should be considerate of others, but there they sit, chatting about some inane, trivial topic, oblivious to the shared planet around them. Do unto others, right?

To be continued...

My country, right or wrong

Cheney speaks:

Vice President Cheney offered a veiled attack yesterday on critics of the administration's Iraq policy, saying the domestic debate over the war is emboldening adversaries who believe they can undermine the resolve of the American people.

This is the second member of this administration in the past couple of weeks who has made it clear that he does not tolerate debate in this country, as Rumsfeld made the same statements during a speech in Colorado last week, which were condemned in brilliant, incisive commentary by Keith Olbermann on MSNBC:



This kind of no dissent speech coming from this administration is rather frightening, given the fact that we don't know the extent to which the NSA is spying on people and the fact that no Supreme Court decision seems to stop these people from doing whatever the hell they want. The infallibility perception of this country is astounding. History repeats itself because of human nature, because greed and power are lusted after time and time again, because our all too short existence means humans believe "it won't happen to me." Who does it happen to, then? Do you fools who blindly support this administration honestly believe that Germans in the thirties were evil, stupid people? Supressing dissent is the behavior of fascists and dictators.

A timeless classic from Midnight Oil, My Country, sums it all up:

was it just a dream, were you so confused
was it just a giant leap of logic
was it the time of year, that makes a state of fear
methods, were their motives for the action

and did i hear you say
my country right or wrong

did you save your face
did you breach your faith
women, there were children at the shelter
now who can stop the hail
when human senses fail
there was never any warning, no escape

did i hear you say
my country right or wrong
my country oh so strong
my country going wrong
my country right or wrong

i hear you say the truth must take a beating
the flag a camouflage for your deceiving
i know we all make mistakes

Cross-posted at Rox Politix

Integrity? What's that?

Having started and made a mess of a war in Iraq and failing on most domestic issues, too, the GOP is spending millions of dollars until November making personal attacks on Democrats to distract voters from the actual issues like Iraq and the massive corruption in the Republican party.

Republicans are planning to spend the vast majority of their sizable financial war chest over the final 60 days of the campaign attacking Democratic House and Senate candidates over personal issues and local controversies, GOP officials said.

The National Republican Congressional Committee, which this year dispatched a half-dozen operatives to comb through tax, court and other records looking for damaging information on Democratic candidates, plans to spend more than 90 percent of its $50 million-plus advertising budget on what officials described as negative ads.

Democrats would do well to stick to saying how they will fix the messes the gops have made in the last decade rather than resorting to juvenile personal attacks. I hope this strategy backfires. Americans are sick of negative attack ads, and recent trends have shown positive campaigning, like Tim Kaine, for instance, is a turn on.

But today's Republicans have no morals, no integrity, and no honor, so what do you expect?

September 11, 2∞

The morbidity of this nation's memory once again presents us with images and empty reflections of a day when 3000 people died for no reason. Ours is a culture that worships violence and destruction; it's no wonder you can go to a righty's blog and see video repetition of the planes crashing into the towers.

Never forget - that's what they say. But we've already forgotten. We've already forgotten the unity we had after that moment. We've forgotten the books that we bought to try to understand, even those of the infamous orientalist Bernard Lewis. (Hey, at least people who bought his books after the event were trying to understand.) What's left is only hatred, vengeance, and a morbid desire to keep watching the towers fall, to keep thinking about it, dwelling on it, and refusing to believe that there is more than pure hatred to fundie Islam. Nobody knows history, nobody knows colonialism, nihilism, corporatism, materialism, existentialism, communism, fascism...every single one of these isms contributes to what we are seeing now. Contrary to popular ignorance, fundie Islam isn't some mindless random violence. There is a philosophy behind it. It's a pretty shitty philosophy, but it exists, and until we as a nation attempt to understand it, perpetual war is what we get.

Why don't we watch Pearl Harbor get blown up every December 7th?

You can put up all the ribbons you want, sing as many meaningless patriotic songs as you can, and say September 11th as often as your mouth will let you, but what does that do? Nothing. Empty slogans like "Never forget" and "United We Stand" are garbage if you aren't paying attention to the news and you don't know what's going on. Why is it so difficult for people to read the news? Why do they resort to empty slogans and garbage propaganda? Sieg Heil, America, sieg heil.

I'd prefer to keep September 11th as a remembrance of my grandfather's birthday or the day when Pete Rose hit 4192, not to recall with anger, disgust, and horror at watching people jump to their deaths from the edge of Heaven.

Dear Americans

Why do you think you are better than everyone else in the world?

What right do you have to wave your little flags and proclaim pride in your country?

What have you done to make it a great country? Anything? Would the world notice if you disappeared into the air, never to be heard from again?

How many hours of television do you watch a week? Laziness doesn't make you better than others.

How many hours do you spend commuting to work? How many trips do you make that are unnecessary? Do you run your air conditioner when the temperature goes above 80 degrees? You are sucking down energy like it is infinite. That doesn't make you better, either.

When was the last time you voted? When was the last time you were involved in a campaign? Leaving someone else to do the campaign work doesn't make you better. And no, putting a bumper sticker on your car is not campaigning.

Have you ever left the country to view it from the outside? 65-70% of you have not. So how do you know it's better? That's like saying cheese pizza is the best pizza when you've never tried anything else.

Have you ever served your country? Not only militarily, but in a public office, or in the Peace Corps, or in volunteer organizations like Americorps? Sucking off the service of others does not make you better.

Did you take college seriously, view it as a place of education rather than a place just to get a job or to rot your liver? Do you view education as a business rather than as an institution for the acquisition of knowledge? When was the last time you read a book?

Do you know your neighbors? Do you participate in your community's affairs? Does the world exist outside of your house?

Do you know any history? Do you know that the decline of civilizations all have similarities, those being excessive individualism, materialism, a lack of respect for education, and apathy? Take a look around you. Why do you hate America so much that you don't give a damn about its decline?

What has prompted this? Well, recently I've come across a few books about life during World War II, where people had food rations and did everything they could to participate in the war effort and help their country. They made something called a sacrifice, they did away with things unnecessary, they went to pick cotton and work in factories for the war effort. But today, in 2006, you have flagwavers screaming America is the best, singing their faux patriotic songs, purchasing ribbon magnets declaring so. No it is not. The people are self-centered, unwilling to give up anything for their country while it fights another world war. (It is a war. It is spread across the world. It is a world war.) See, while hundreds of people are dying every day, Americans are shopping at box stores for crap they don't need, playing video games, playing cornhole, watching sports, watching DVDs, and never thinking about the war. The war is "too sad" for them, "too depressing."

Soldiers are coming back resentful of Americans who are taking life for granted. That is too sad and depressing.

Seems that rumors are going around that Pakistan is losing control to Al-Qaeda. WAKE UP, AMERICA - PAKISTAN HAS NUKES.

Another Republican goes to jail

for corruption. WAKE UP, AMERICA!