Showing posts with label Dubya. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dubya. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

THE CRUSADERS HAVE BREACHED OUR CITY GATES


Sarah Palin, like George W. Bush, is stupid in at least two classical definitions: Closed to the challenge of thinking for oneself, and unable to think flexibly. She is by her own admission not a reader. Her inability to speak with clarity or consideration is most on display when she is placed in a non-scripted situation, which she consequently avoids at all costs. She opens her mouth mostly to earn a fee, and she has (mostly) learned to allow others to tell her what to say.

She is quintessentially the dimwitted beauty queen who is sullen about being asked questions instead of the swimsuit competition sufficing, just as Bush was the rich frat boy claiming a cowboy heritage not his own because he saw cowboys as likewise inarticulate, small-minded, and not expected to observe social niceties (an outsider's patronizing view that too many urban Texans-by-migration gleefully embraced as well).

So when one of these mouthpiece symbols makes a horrific blunder in the course of a teleprompted speech -- as Bush did when he called his invasion of Iraq a "crusade" and Palin has now done invoking the vile Jew-hating phrase blood libel to express outrage at being questioned about the consequences of her targeting of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords -- it is not as simple as another example of their stupidity on display. Nor can we explain it away solely as their existing in an elite theocratic bubble where such fundie hate phrases are bandied about in conversation, leaving dimwits such as Palin and Dubya to later use the language without comprehending what it means.

No, someone who is paid to design messages inserted those two words into Palin's carefully crafted video, which was (as always) intended to keep her in the money-making public eye without expecting actual work from her. It was not miss-speak. This is bolstered by Andrew Breitbart, that Goebbelesque liar, also using the same phrase in recent days.

What was its dogwhistle intent, then?

For fundies, it reinforces the simultaneous martyrdom they cling to -- the delusion that Christians are the only genuinely persecuted group in our culture, because we refuse to allow them to convert and control the rest of us in Jesus's name -- and the rationalization that Jews have it "coming to them" because they killed Christ. It is a coded reinforcement of anti-Semitism which is intrinsic to Christians who believe they have the right to kill as part of G*d's will.

In short, that gunsight leveled on Giffords was, actually, justified.

Study the rest of Palin's commentary. She asks when political debate was ever less heated, revealing she operates in the End-Timer maelstrom of constant fear and rage. She speaks of praying but not of finding resolution or growth from prayer, because her ilk believe they have already heard from G*d and will not ever require a course correction. And she whines about the apportioning of blame, but never mentions the word responsibility.

Because responsibility implies the possibility of error, something Christian soldiers never have to worry about.

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Friday, September 11, 2009

LIARS, DAMNED LIARS, AND THE BUSH ADMINISTRATION

Pants on fire
After natural distasters, there are folks who are up bright and early the next morning to defraud devastated survivors with lying offers of roof repair, cut-rate funeral plots, and, oh yeah, toxic trailers in which to house their children and ill family members. We have a special contempt for these particular kinds of deceit, which plays on need and vulnerability to make money and accrue influence.

On this anniversary of 9/11, a day when briefly we mourned together as a nation and hoped for leadership that would give us guidance, I urge us to complete our grieving process by also catharsing the justifiable rage we feel at those who used this terrible event for personal gain.


I'll "let it go" once all the truth has been exposed and the criminals are held responsible. And no, I'm not referring to those in Gitmo, I'm referring to the criminals whose decisions resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands more innocent lives, bankrupted an economy, and shredded our Constitution.

Bush reading My Pet Goat on 9/11 "After being told 'America is under attack' when the second plane hit the tower on 9/11, George W. Bush continued to read 'My Pet Goat' in a Florida classroom for the next seven minutes." -from Fahrenheit 911 by Michael Moore

If we do not demand accountability for the vile treachery perpetrated on us in the name of 9/11, we'll be stuck here forever.

Keith Olbermann addressed it last night in his Special Comment. (Hat-tip to Crooks and Liars for the transcript and the video.)

And finally, as promised, a Special Comment about the shout of "You Lie" during the presidential address to the joint session of Congress last night on the
matter of health care reform.

The 43rd president of the United States lied the nation into the war, lied 4,343 of his fellow citizens to death in that war, lied about upholding the constitution, and lied about Weapons of Mass Destruction.

He lied about how he reacted to Al-Qaeda before 9/11 and he lied about how he reacted to Al-Qaeda after 9/11.

He lied about getting Bin Laden, and he lied about not getting Bin Laden.

He lied about nation-building in Iraq, lied about the appearance of new buildings **in** the nation **of** Iraq, and lied about embassy buildings in nations like Iraq.

He lied about trailers with mobile weapons labs in them, and he lied about trailers with Cuban prostitutes in them.

He and his administration lied -- by the counting of one non-profit group -- 532 times about links between Al-Qaeda and Iraq. Only 28 of those were by that President, but he made up for that by lying 231 times about W-M-D.

And yet not once did an elected Democratic official shout out during one of George W. Bush's speeches and call him a "liar."

Even when the president was George W. Bush, even when he was assailed from sidelines like mine, even when the lies came down so thick the nation needed a hat... he was still the President and if he didn't earn any respect, the office he held demanded respect.

More over, that President and his Congressional tools like Congressman Addison Graves "Joe" Wilson of South Carolina insisted not just unquestioned respect for the office; they wanted unanimous lock-step compliance with the man.

And when the blasphemy of mere respectful criticism somehow came anyway -- say by, or built on that by, the real Joe Wilson -- lord help he who might have made the slightest factual error in that criticism.

Congressman Wilson and his masters and the flying monkeys of right-wing media would pursue the erroneous critic to the ends of their careers, firing hot accusations of moral or intellectual confusion and incompetence at the unbelievers.

And that is the line Congressman Wilson crossed last night when he shouted "you lie" at this President of the United States.

Not the respect line.

The stupid line.


Watch the whole thing below:



[Cross-posted at Group News Blog.]

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Sunday, June 15, 2008

HOW LONG UNTIL WE CAN "JOKE" ABOUT KATRINA?


It's been 18 years since Claytie Williams forgot he wasn't surrounded by reliable Texas good ole boys and said "Rape is like weather. As long as it's inevitable, you might as well lie back and enjoy it." A nearby reporter faithfully repeated the remark, and -- make no mistake about it -- this comment is what lost him the governorship of Texas.

Ann Richards tied this slice of hate (it was definitely not a joke) to Claytie's Big Oil anti-environmentalism, to his OTHER public woman-hating remark about treating Richards like a steer, and to his attempt at smearing her for being a recovering alcoholic. It disgusted enough people that she won by a narrow 49-47%.

Richards went on to completely re-energize the Texas busted economy, re-fund education, reform prisons, and do more good than this state has seen in decades. Claytie remained an anachronism, except, of course, to the misogynist, racist, classist white boys who agreed with everything he said.

Ann lost to Dubya in 1994, despite her wild success as a Governor, because Bush trumped her AA treated alcoholism with his "God saved me, I don't need no fucking 12 Steps" version (much more popular with all the secret drinks in evangelical circles) and because Karl Rove spread the rumor that she was a lesbian. When Bush ran for the Presidency, all the things for which he took credit as Texas's governor were, in fact, programs initiated under Ann Richards. WE knew he was an abject failure, lying about his past. But the rest of the country bought it.

So, all this was 18 years ago. That's not long enough to excuse the decision on the part of whoever it was in John McSame's campaign remuda that having Claytie host a fundraiser would be a smart move. Either they are too young to be put in charge of such things (and the Republicans do rely inordinately on young and stupid white boys for their grunt work) or they are so indoctrinated in the culture of hate speech they thought it would be a funny anecdote now. I mean, look how Hillary was smeared by anti-woman shit, with no backlash or outcry from most of the Democratic party, right?

Well, the McSame folks had to cancel their event once a news reporter made the connection that they apparently could not, but they've made no comment about returning the more than $300,000 Claytie has already raised for them.

You know, bedbugs can live for 18 months without a fresh meal. The subterranean life of Neocons seems to be much longer. The only way to cleanse our habitat of them is to flush them into the open and deny them any nutrition whatsoever. We can begin with Midland, Texas, which remains a hotbed for those would destroy the Constitution for profit, white supremacy, and the right to make rape "inevitable".

Below is Richards' campaign ad from 1990. Rest in peace, Ann. Some of us are carrying on your work.

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Friday, June 13, 2008

OAKLAND FIRE CONTAINED IN TIME; MCCLELLAN'S ESCAPE FIRE SEEMS TO BE WORKING

(A helicopter drops buckets of water on a grass fire that broke out in the East Bay Hills in Oakland, Calif., Thursday, June 12, 2008. Photo by Alison Yin for The Oakland Tribune.)

I woke up this evening to an e-mail from Kat in Berkeley reading "Maggie, the Oakland Hills are on fire again. I'm really freaked out. No evacuations so far, and it doesn't look like it's moving as fast as in '91, but it's the same place (Hiller Highlands/Tunnel Road)."

I immediately searched for the story, and found it covered by the breaking news section of the San Jose Mercury, which stated:
"A brush fire broke out Thursday morning across 3 acres of steep hillside above Old Tunnel Road — eerily close to where the devastating 1991 Oakland Hills fire swept out of control — prompting a fast response from firefighters, who contained it in about one hour, and evoking fear among residents."

The article went on to comment "For the residents living on Charing Cross Road and surrounding streets, the wildfire was a terrifying reminder of the fire of 1991." Kat wasn't the only one.

The neighborhood where I lived in Oakland, moving away in 1989, escaped being leveled by the 1991 fire by only blocks. I went back on a visit shortly afterward, when tendrils of smoke could still be seen among the ashes, and toured the devastation with a former neighbor. I've written about the Oakland Firestorm before at this blog in my post Escape Fires.

To see some excellent footage of today's fire suppression, especially the physical effort involved in dealing with these extreme slopes, check out two videos from the Contra Costa Times:

Video Part One and Video Part Two

Last night I watched extended coverage of the flooding in Iowa and the Wisconsin Dells, as well as the devastating tornado who killed four boys at a leadership gathering for Boy Scouts. The same system destroying lives, homes, and crops in the Midwest has us here in Central Texas entering our 12th day of 100 degree heat and 23rd day of temperatures over 90 -- before summer even starts. We're already hurting for rain, as is huge swaths of the West.

We (human beings) have altered the weather patterns and balance for the entire globe.

I notice that no evangelical hatemonger has suggested that the people of Middle America have brought on the flooding and wrath of god by their insistence on liberty and human compassion. I guess some acts of god are not a toddler version of vengeance.

Scott McClellan was on Letterman last night, and by most who've reported on it, Dave conducted the best interview with him to date about the revelations in his book What Happened. The tone was set by Paul Schaffer leading the band in a rendition of "Turn, Turn, Turn" as Scotty walked on stage. You can watch the whole thing below, and should -- Scotty is opening windows and doors, however late.

Some of my favorite lines:

Dave (referring to Bush): "If I was doing the job he's doing, or that I think he's doing, I wouldn't go to work."

Scott (on Cheney): "He has a very dark view of the world, and he certainly believes some of the means justify the ends. And this President showed him way too much deference, I think, in terms of carrying out policies, whether it was detainee policies or energy policy, or policies relating to the war itself."

Dave: "My feeling about Cheney, and also Bush, but especially Cheney is that he just couldn't care less about Americans, and the same is true of George Bush. And all they really want to do is somehow kiss up to the oil people so they can get some great annuity when they're out of office (applause starts -- Dave counts out money as he continues) -- There you go, Dick, nice job, there's a couple of billion for your troubles. (Applause strengthens.) He pretty much put Halliburton in business, and the outsourcing of military resources to private mercenary groups and so forth. Is there any humanity in either of these guys?"

The bottom line is: Corporate values are not American values. The decisions about our environment, our food, our foreign policy, our military, our social services, our justice system, and all other rights which we accede to community control must be returned to elected government, not corporations. As Dave said, "We're screwed" until we do so.

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Monday, June 9, 2008

THE COMMON NIGHTHAWK

(Nighthawks, by Edward Hopper, 1942)

In what feels like a lifetime ago, the mid to late 1990s, I used to attend weekly poetry open mics at Mojo's, Spider House, and occasionally other coffee houses in the University of Texas vicinity. Most of the readers were young, often young enough to be my children. A lot of them were lesbian or, as they called it, queer. I was still working on my voice then, both as a writer and as a performer of my poetry. A long, hard learning curve.

Most nights I drove home via Guadalupe, even though the first stretch of it is the University Drag, choked with traffic and jaywalking students. Once I got to MLK, though, it was a one-way easy stretch the rest of the way home. I wrote a poem about that route, once. It's at the end of this post. It got published somewhere along the way.

Some nights, however, I cut east and made my way around the State Capitol. I like seeing the bats and nighthawks circling the dome, visible mostly when they cross in front of a star or the moon. Did you know that our Capitol dome here in Texas is 15 feet taller than the one in Washington, DC? Yep. We did that on purpose. Everything bigger in Texas.

The common nighthawk is a bird which makes me glad I settled in Austin. I never was around them anywhere else. They seem to be here year-round, though in other places they migrate to South America for the winter. As a nightjar, they lay their eggs directly on the bare ground, no attempt made to build a nest. Their high peent fills the dark skies above Austin, especially above moontowers and mercury vapor lights which draw insects. As they close in on a flying insect who is desperately trying to outmaneuver them, often at the last instant the nighthawk will give its screech -- not from triumph or frustration, but to disorient the bug. It tends to work, causing a tiny jag in the insect's zoom, and the nighthawk heads 'em off at the pass.

If you'd like to hear their call, go to this page at E-Nature and click on "Listen".

I had to pass the by Texas Governor's Mansion to connect with Congress Avenue, my boulevard home. At that time I drove a Honda with a moonroof, and I'd make sure the roof was open when I reached the Mansion so I could scream at George W. Bush precisely what I thought of him -- wishing I was a nighthawk and he as he was, a dung beetle. He had contaminated the one-time residence of Ann Richards with his occupancy.

It never occurred to me, in my worst nightmares, that America could be stupid enough to elect him President. Well, to be exact, to allow him to steal the Presidency. Twice.

I earnestly hope the vast majority of people who voted for him are the ones now losing their homes and jobs. However, I doubt that's the case. The elite have escape hatches (Paraguay, anybody?), which includes our Senators and Representatives. Only a few of them admit their luck.

One of them is Congressman Robert Wexler. I got an e-mail from him today stating "I am pleased to announce to you that the House Judiciary Committee has met my public call for Scott McClellan's immediate testimony with action." Not only has the Committee issued an invitation to Scotty, he has accepted. Hoo-doggie.

The Governor's Mansion here burned two nights ago. They're saying it's arson. Fortunately, I am completely alibi'd by disability and poverty. They'll rebuild from the ashes, a job we're facing as a nation. Wouldn't it be funny if it was pudgy, pushed-around Scotty McClellan who struck the match?

Peent.

(Common Nighthawk -- Chordeiles minor, by Bob Hines, 1973)

GOING TO EARTH

We are riding three abreast
late-night same-speed companions
down 20 blocks of Guadalupe,
red lights in sequence
slowing us, each in our own gear,
then waving us on through.
I am red Honda,
motorcycle to left,
to right big car with window-filled dog
barking in different echoes off
brick buildings,
wooden houses,
disappearing a beat or two by the park
then bouncing back at the library
as if he were galloping along with us,
a central city Baskerville.

The moon is full over the Congress Street bridge.

Here is where I turn away
and choose my route back up the hill
to where I bunkered in six years ago
the month I let myself believe
she was really going to leave me.

I come out for picnics, movies,
meetings that stretch into gossiping about
whoever left early,
but I always go back alone,
sleep alone, get up and scrape together
faith in the clemency of another day
alone.



© Maggie Jochild; written 20 July 1997, just past midnight

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