Cindy Sheehan

Ms. Sheehan has received the Buzzflash "Wings of Justice" award for her unstinting efforts to make King George look in the mirror and own up to his lies and propaganda that has killed many, many people. So far, she will admit that hers may be a futile effort. But she will not stop and she will not be used by either war side to further agendas that are not her own or less than honest. She is a true patriot (even though I hate that word) and American who deserves our respect even if we don't agree with her. She is Democracy in action. She personifies what it means to be American and how much it can hurt.

I Hab A Dode

just want to do a quick shout out to vicks vaporub. i have lived on this stuff anytime i've had a cold for all of my life. it is a healing elixir. congested chest, nose? dab it, smear it, rub it. all good.
but this time around my summer cold has been acting in a very funny fashion. i first felt the symptoms on the day of lecram's last meat burning. i thought it was allergies at first, but eventually i had to give in and admit that i was sick. i tried the special lecram home remedy (turn the shower on as hot as you can stand it, stick your butt in it for as long as you can stand it, then apply vicks behind the ears). that seemed to work and i felt i was on my way to kicking this cold in record time (two days). unfortunately, it returned two days after that with more congestion and a mucus buffet. being a smoker i am used to these things taking their time. but this morning at 5 i was awakened by a most godawful pain...in my ear. my throat was raw and my sinuses were blocked (i assume the raw throat was from snoring due to the sinus thingy and not due to last night's nocturnal admissions), but the weirdest part was that my left ear was totally clogged. i couldn't hear anything. and it hurt like hell. after half an hour of tossing and turning, hoping it would go away, i moved to the couch in order to get some more sleep while sitting up. eventually, the pain subsided to something liveable. i went into work this morning and found that two other people have had this cold and experienced the same ear problem. now, that's somewhat of a relief, because i thought i was going deaf. i seriously thought i had a problem beyond the cold. well, the ear has never popped today. it has been stuffed up all day long. the pain has come and gone and come again. i noticed that it would begin to hurt more when i needed to blow my nose, so it is definately connected to my sinuses...
but just now i decided to put some more vicks behind my ears to see if any change would occur and-lo and behold- it seems to be easing the pressure somewhat. not completely, but some and anything is welcome.
so, snaps to vick vaporub, which sits in an exalted place in the medicine cabinet right next to that wonder drug sayman's salve. this salve can cure cancer, i swear to god. i have yet to try it on a burn, cut, infection, fungus, ingrown toenail, skin problem, heat rash, jock itch, surface hemorrhoids or athlete's foot and not had complete satisfaction. you won't find it at your local store (though they might order it for you), but it used to be a stock item in all pharmacies and drug stores. they even came out with a soap that was supposed to be dermatologically stupendous and it disappeared as well.
so, if you are tired of looking for the next great cure for common maladies, then stop and go back in time to the two curatives that stand the test of time.
by the way, anyone have special home remedies for colds that they absolutely swear by? i can riff all day on the benefits of theraflu, but i'm asking about the remedies that your ma and pa used on you and weren't bought in a package from a store. anyone?

Friday Night Fights

Well, it's Friday night once again. THE night of the week where we're all too tired to do anything but dream of tomorrow. Because tomorrow is the stuff of dreams. Saturday. Freedom. Liberation from the sins of the workweek. The one true anarchical moment in our sea of troubled discipline. So, tonight I choose for my loud music something by the Pogues. If I must bow to my masters for 5 days a week and spend Sunday trying not to think about the doom looming then, dammit, for 45 minutes tonight I will groove to a band and frontman that encompass enough anger, angst, pathos and downright fantastic talent to fling my soul into a whirling dervish of I don't give a flying monkeyfuck who calls the cops as long as I can piss in my front yard and wiggle my wiener in spiraling arcs of daredevil ne'er-do-well while I swig beer from a sippy cup and think about taping condoms to the front door of the neighboring Catholics. Tomorrow I'll awake and quite possibly regret some (if not all) of tonight's nocturnal admissions. But that's tomorrow. Tomorrow, the day of infinity and brazen nonchalance. When that money in my pocket finally finds a match. When I can't stands it no longer and I just gotta dance.
But it's still Friday. And I look at the clock and see that it's what I would consider late on any other night of the week, because my brain is still twisted around that godawful maypole called Work. I know tomorrow is free even should I decide to go to work. It's still free, because everything I do tomorrow is my choice. No one else's. I can choose to lie on my couch and watch sports on television all afternoon. I can garden. I can hit Big Lots, all of the 99 cent stores. I can take a drive to the mountains. I can scrape the black scum out of my toilet. I can quit smoking. I can quit drinking. I can learn to be more tolerant of my friends. I can become a serial killer. Write the next great haiku. Install a despot who is sensitive to my need for semi-ripe papayas, Bombay Toast and the fertile plains of Virginia. Stare at a spiderweb up in the corner for thirty minutes wondering where the broom is. Get emotionally involved with a tomato while I slice it to death. All good.
So, you know what I've decided to do now that I'm done? I've decided...to choose. I choose all of them and I'll find out tomorrow how many I have time to actually do.

HNT Post Mortem (I'm very late)

i'm thinking of braiding my nipple hair, whaddya think? man boob need a shave? or should i let it go rasta?

Stems and Seeds

These are some quotes sent to me by friends concerning DRUGS and DRUG USE. See if you can figure out who said them (or is supposed to have since the scribe was probably as high as the speaker/writer).

* The war on drugs to me is absolutely phony; it's so obviously phony, ok? It's a war against our civil rights, that's all it is. They're using it to make us afraid to go out at night, afraid of each other, so that we lock ourselves in our homes and they get suspending our rights one by one.

* Why is pot against the law? It wouldn't be because anyone can grow it, and therefore you can't make a profit off it, would it?

* Your denial is beneath you, and thanks to the use of hallucinogenic drugs, I see through you.

* Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration. That we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There is no such thing as death, life is only a dream and we're the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather.

* Watching television is like taking black spray paint to your third eye.

* I have never seen two people on pot get in a fight because it is fucking IMPOSSIBLE. "Hey, buddy!" "Hey, what?" "Ummmmmmm...." End of argument.

* You see, I think drugs have done some good things for us. I really do. And If you don't believe drugs have done good things for us, do me a favor. Go home tonight take all your albums, all your tapes and all your CDs and burn them. 'Cause You know what the musicians that made all that great music that's enhanced your lives throughout the years? RrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrEAL fucking high on drugs... The Beatles were so fucking high they let Ringo sing a few songs.

* Here is my final point. About drugs, about alcohol, about pornography and smoking and everything else. What business is it of yours what I do, read, buy, see, say, think, who I fuck, what I take into my body - as long as I do not harm another human being on this planet?

* I believe that God left certain drugs growing naturally upon our planet to help speed up and facilitate our evolution. OK, not the most popular idea ever expressed. Either that or you're all real high and agreeing with me in the only way you can right now. (Starts blinking)

* They lie about marijuana. Tell you pot-smoking makes you unmotivated. Lie! When you're high, you can do everything you normally do, just as well. You just realize that it's not worth the fucking effort. There is a difference.

* Christianity has a built-in defense system: anything that questions a belief, no matter how logical the argument is, is the work of Satan by the very fact that it makes you question a belief. It's a very interesting defense mechanism and the only way to get by it -- and believe me, I was raised Southern Baptist -- is to take massive amounts of mushrooms, sit in a field, and just go, "Show me."

Cindy Sheehan

But the most promising avenue of attack is likely to be the one sketched out by Fox News Channel eminence Bill O’Reilly on Aug. 9, when he declared that Cindy Sheehan bears some responsibility for “other American families who have lost sons and daughters in Iraq who feel that this kind of behavior borders on treasonous.”

Cindy Sheehan arrived at the "Western White House" pretty much alone and vowed to stay there alone until our cowardly "president" came out to parlay. Since then, she has been joined by a handful of likeminded demonstrators. The media picked up on it immediately and turned it into the circus it is today. Sheehan did not start this. Sheehan was not duped by the liberal left wing or al-quaeda. She has been outspoken about the war for a long time. Now, people like Bill O'Reilly are slamming her for taking a stand. She bears responsibility for how others view her? I think not. Those who think she is doing harm to our nation can make their own stand. They can speak out on their own, for themselves. They can greet the press with placards and ribbons and pictures of Terri Schiavo and call themselves "grieving parents for war" and they would be well within their rights. And not one pundit would call them to task. Not one pundit would level charges of treason at their black-creped doorsteps. But let a mother take her grief and her beliefs to the streets in public and challenge our "president" to a High Noon meeting...well, that's just not American. In fact, it's actually more...Chinese. Remember the man who stopped an entire caravan of tanks shortly after the Tianamen Square massacre merely because he could no longer turn a blind eye to the brutal ways of his government? Remember how that became an international symbol for standing up to repressive regimes and dictatorships? How the common person could effect even a tiny bit of change? And how we all should learn a lesson from his naked bravery? How is Sheehan any different? She wants simple answers to simple questions. Methinks even Bush could handle this one without a secret microphone pack under his coat. He can disagree with her beliefs honestly and come away clean. Sheehan would probably thank him for his time and answers even if they don't sound like what she would hope for. But he doesn't. Instead, he hides on his ranch. He rides his bike and tells the press that Americans want a president who is physically fit (color me nostalgic, but I prefer one who is mentally fit). So, now appearing physically fit is the requirement for that job? That is the overriding qualification? Well then, do I have a Governor for you.
But that's getting away from the point. And the point is: what is Cindy Sheehan doing that makes her appear treasonous? What has she said that can be construed by anyone other than right wingers as anti-American or pro-Taliban or -al quaeda? She is horrified by this war and its human cost. She is horrified by the claims for war that have all been demolished by facts. She is horrified by the fact that neither Bush nor any official in his inner circle are willing to speak honestly about their mistakes and misjudgements. She is horrified that her son may have died because of lies. She is asking for clarification. She is asking for a moment of sanity. She is asking for help with the closure she can't yet find. She is grieving. She is, also, being divorced by her husband who is grieving as well. Do you think this is easy for her? Evidently, people like O'Reilly do. It must be easy, because in the world of the right wingers and those who just want reality to go away being against the war takes no courage. It takes no moral fiber. It takes no strength. It only takes a coward and a traitor and a liberal press.
Cindy Sheehan is no coward. She is no traitor. The only thing she is not is a sheep. And there is no liberal press following her around, eating up her every word. There is only a press that, like vultures, descend on the dead or dying in order to feast. Like Bill O'Reilly. The only thing that separates O'Reilly from the mainstream press is that he has no interest in the truth behind the news. He has self-interest and nothing else. The regular press will, at the least, eventually get it right. Even, though, it's often too late to fix the damage.
I just wonder what the White House will dream up next in order to harm Sheehan in the eyes of the public. Bush's popularity is as low as it can reasonably get. Good thing for him he can't run for another term. But Sheehan can continue for as long as it takes and I will support her and those like her who choose to stand as individuals and question those who are supposed to serve us.
We are the owners of this country, not the temps we vote into place.

Be Sheared And Baa Not

From E.L. Doctorow on September 9, 2004 comes this very, very (in my mind) accurate depiction of what we, as Americans, have allowed our country to become. Each of has a choice: to stand up and speak out against repression, facism, censorship, the stifling of dissent, corporate jingoism clothed in patriotism, the furtherance of the elite at the expense of the commoner...or we can be sheep who think it's easier and safer to just go with the flow, be sheared and baa not. It is the individual's choice and we all know which is the easier path. But, for my money, the easier path is the more dangerous of the two and more cowardly. It is the individual who effects change, just as it is the group who usually takes that change and turns it into sponsor dollars. But it is the sheep who baa not that allow our leaders to do what they want willnilly without having to answer to choruses of boos. We stood up once before this war began and shouted out "NO!" in one loud, common voice that resonated and was mirrored across the world. Since then, we as a people have done nothing but watch our children die in a vainglorious effort by megalomaniacs to ensure their own power into the next generation. They don't care about us. They never did. Many of the parents of those in power right now were once affiliated with the Communist party. After that, they became New Deal Democrats under Kennedy. Disillusioned by that, they became or trained their children to become what we now brand "neo-cons". They have no roots, history, culture or true experience in commitment to anything. They change like the wind if their politics blow south. They will do anything, say anything in order to regain power, because that is all they are about. And the tragedy of it all is that they make those morons who reside in the House and Senate look like saints in comparison.

"But the cry of protest was the appalled understanding of millions of people that America was ceding its role as the last best hope of mankind. It was their perception that the classic archetype of democracy was morphing into a rogue nation. The greatest democratic republic in history was turning its back on the future, using its extraordinary power and standing not to advance the ideal of a concordance of civilizations but to endorse the kind of tribal combat that originated with the Neanderthals, a people, now extinct, who could imagine ensuring their survival by no other means than pre-emptive war."

Esprit de Corpse

My great friend Generik sent me this article, which is about as juvenile as my previous post about the jumper. I hope you like it...actually, it'd be funnier if you didn't:
"I was at the Reagan Presidential Library in February of this year," he told WND. "'Dutch' was my commander in chief. I have personal interest in getting this individual and trying to protect the desecration of presidential graves against First Amendment rights."
To be honest, as soon as I stop laughing I'll try to figure out where the "rights" part plays a factor. Until then, bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!
And when I die I will encourage everyone to do whatever they want on my grave (in fact, let me know what you think of). Sex would be awesome, spilling beer (a lot of beer) would be even better. Desecration? You could dig me up, prance my skeleton around in girlie undies, use my skull for an ashtray and I'd still give you a call the next weekend.

gotta love Friday. best day of the week. work is not only finished, it's done. two glorious days off to rest the weary bones, catch up on sleep, socialize, watch a movie without looking at the clock 2/3 of the way through, drink a beer for breakfast, chase the cat around the house until it's pissed and wants out, get a quarter of coke and stay up all night knowing the next day can be dozed over, make candles, buy a domain, cruise netflix, sort baseball cards into numerical order, check to make sure the air conditioner's condensor unit is on, walk out and look at the new car sitting in the driveway one more time, play "london calling" late friday night just louder than the stereo can handle, touch it without feeling rushed, go to the store and walk every aisle and play hide-the-baloney in the tofu bin.

...i'm thinking of a tattoo. a very special one. it's already drawn and hanged. a decision long in the making, but not yet decided. the ruling rests on the shoulders of those jurists who must choose that part of the anatomy that must submit. i must admit that getting involved with half nekkid thursday has made me think more on the artist i most enjoy. her name is augusta asberry. i have a poster from Seattle Folk Festival during the early to mid '90's when i worked at the Center. it was one of the festival posters and it is grand. three dancing figures. i have two of the dancers on me already...but where to put the third and final...truly a dilemma...plus, then i have to find the right tattooist. i'm not in seattle and at slave to the needle anymore. it took me 35 years to find the right artist for the first one...

and now for the news:
Jay: it'll be hothothot in the city tomorrow, but more on that later. plus, sports happened a lot today and that's coming up. but, first, this breaking news: steroids in the white house? did the deputy chief of the needle? details at 11...
[break]
it's six o'clock and in breaking new photos you will see all of the differences in michael jackson's appearance and how much this trial hurt him. Brent?
Brent: thanks Jay. plus, we'll have an interview with defendants from the case everyone is talking about.
but, now, let's go to our weather center and Harry Hagopianolopolous. harry, take it away. by the way, what's with the wig? you lose a bet?
Harry: no, Brent. good one. it's hairsuit day in new zealand and on a cold day like it is down under there i just wanted to show solidarity with the limes.
Brent: ...did you mean 'hirsute'? and 'kiwis'?
Jay: wha...?


good night.

Half Nekkid Thursday

thought i might work up the stem of the leg i started with. sort of a blog striptease. you can see the tattoo i posted last week and the beginnings of the next for HNT. but it's the knee that interests me right now. lately, it's been causing me pain. not on the side you can see, but the other. it's an ache i've had since i was 16 and playing soccer all the year round for my high school team and the summer leagues. it started one day during a summer game in the under 23 age league (while i was still 16). my mostly high school team gang was battling the CSU-Fresno soccer alumni team and managing to stay tied at zero into the second half. the temperature in the shade was 114 faranheit. on the field...well, it was a bit warmer. one of the players went down with an injury and i trotted to the side lines for a drink of water. on the way there (just trotting, mind you) i felt/heard a click in my knee. i stopped immediately as all soccer players do when something with the important limbs (read: legs) seems suddenly amiss. i reached down, massaged it, felt no outside pain and resumed jogging. suddenly, the inside of my knee began to twinge each time i landed on it. i began limping a little bit and changed my direction of trotting from the water to my older brother. he had torn the cartilage in one of his knees playing high school football some years earlier. when i told him what i had felt and how it was now hurting he massaged the knee and asked if this or that hurt when he pressed on it. nope. just a pain in the knee. wait. yeah, that hurts right there. he gave me the neoprene knee brace he was wearing, i put it on, i got my water and went out and finished the match, which we lost 2-0 (but it was against ex-college players so we didn't feel so bad and my coach had me playing forward when i was a natural fullback/stopper). i spent the rest of the game pulling the knee wrap up, because it was too big for me.
the knee would continue to haunt me every now and then through the years, but not in any manner that was debilitating.
on toward today. for the last two weeks the pain is back and it is almost constant. when i go to bed at night i slather it in woodlock, which acts as a liquid aspirin. a very good alternative to bengay and the like. an acupuncturist who was treating me for bad tendonitis gave me a bunch of bottles when my insurance stopped covering the needling (might as well have, it wasn't giving me anything more than temporary relief. took me over a month to relax enough where the needles didn't hurt going in. funny, because i have tattoos and thoroughly enjoyed those experiences). woodlock smells like peppermint linament and isn't conducive to social gatherings, so i wait until i'm home for good each night. i'm now almost out and need to find a local asian pharmacy (where it's much cheaper than online).
but i digress. the reason i wanted to post my knee for Half Nekkid Thursday is i'm hoping that the knee will feel shame at being publicly exposed and heal itself or, at the least, shut the fuck up for a while. i tell my body it's okay to hurt sometimes. it's acceptable to want some downtime. i can allow a bit of joint self pity. but i'll be damned if i will put up with it for any prolonged period of time. and if it's a serious problem, then get serious. don't whine quietly. let me know i need to see a doctor. fall off or something. spurt blood in a geyser from an aorta i never knew existed. learn to call 911 your own damn self. become doublejointed and kick myself in the ass over and over until i can't ignore you anymore. stuff some of that toe fungus in my eye. go on a goddamned talkshow, bounce up and down on the couch and tell the world how much you love being in love with a scientologist who has lots and lots of money and whose ex-wives and girlfriends go on to very lucrative careers... that way i'll know to sign up for health insurance with my employer (because i'm NOT a goddamned scientologist and i don't have lots of money and i'll never be a hollywood star and i can't get a table at the Outback Steakhouse in under 30 minutes even when i claim to be an endangered species...)
pretty damn obvious i'm an ex-athlete, isn't it? treat it like it's a minor nuisance and then i'll get really pissed off when the doc tells me i have to walk on the other leg only. boing boing boing. look at me, i'm not even a kangaroo. i keep going in circles. wow, look at the lemmings-they can run straight...never mind. maybe one gimpy knee isn't so bad.
happy HNT (which is where you go to find out the guidelines and whatnot) to all who visit!
p.s. this is the HNT creator's site, which has a wonderful sidebar linklist of many who are involved.

I Heart Morons!!!

i don't normally condone idiocy, but, goddamn, this is inspired. i'd never thought of it. i never would have thought of it. i just wish there was video so i could see what kind of bounce he got. i love america!

Cindy Sheehan

http://alternet.org/waroniraq/23984/

http://www.buzzflash.com/editorial/05/08/edi05059.html

http://www.buzzflash.com/contributors/05/08/con05279.html

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/08/10/opinion/10dowd.html?

http://usa.mediamonitors.net/content/view/full/17653

and just when you thought rumsfeld and our glorious governemnt couldn't get any dirtier, slimier or more propagandistic comes this (a must read):
http://www.nydailynews.com/news/wn_report/story/335938p-286948c.html

Blog Correction

by the way, lecram was very kind to post about my new car. thank you, lecram. however, he got the color wrong. and i hate it when dyslexic people get the color wrong.
so, this is it. exact color, my mansion in the background, proper white trash parking job. my valet ("bob", says so on his coveralls) is the best. meth bonus for him and his pregnant sister/wife. and copies of "grand theft auto" for the nearly newborn.

Two Cents From Scary Soccer Dad

ohmigod. bush admin staffers didn't expect judge roberts' record as a judge to be looked and taken into account by those senatorians who might just not be sitting solidly in the same camp as bush. they evidently thought that merely by being nominated by our ever so uniting president roberts would breeze through the confirmation hearings and assume his rightful place next to clarence thomas and just behind antonin scalia. how were they to know that some lowlife unscrupulous truncoats might actually take the time to dig up old skeletons and parade them around shamelessly for the public to see. now we know just how low the democrats have stooped. that they would dig for facts, read minutes, check past rulings, ask about political contributions and speeches. the nerve! this is why the country is in the state it is: democrats playing partisan politics with the truth. it's enough to make me want to move to cuba.

and just when you thought wal-fart couldn't get any stinkier (think hiring for subminimum wages and then tattling on their own illegal workers, being the only foreign corporation not having to adhere to china's constitutional law about all foreign corporations having to allow their workers to unionize, shutting down entire stores after employees voted to unionize, continuing to purchase clothing from third world sweat shops and claiming that wal-fart is merely helping these poor unfortunates by buying their products, pushing through "supercenters" in small cities and large towns that don't need them and forcing smaller local stores out of business) it lays a log that clogs the toilet and actually breaks the glade freshener.

Wotta A Day, Wotcher!

well, it seems to have been a banner day once again at the Scary Squirrel Man household. i awoke at 5 this morning and for some strange reason decided to just get up and go to work instead of rolling over and trying to ease the kink out of my back. honestly, i truly sleep about 3-4 hours a night. the rest of the time i doze and try to fight my way out of dreams that keep going wrong (the other day i had a nap dream in which i was able to ask God [for some odd reason] to get me out of a situation and i woke right up. first time ever). so, this morning i get up at the ass crack of dawn and shower, brush my head, rub my teeth, salt lick my pits, make tea and a couple of burritoes and go to work. the sacramento office has sent me all of their asphalt and i look forward to a full day of puttering around (lots of work, no work- i'm a great, professional putterer). but i also know that a certain lady is going to call me. she is going to call me with glad tidings. her tidings will spill forth onto my lack of a steady car. and i shall be washed in the bath of the replacement.
yes, i bought a new used car. it took almost four hours, because i was doing this under the benediction of my credit union, and while it is nice to have such an indulgence, it sure does take a damn long time. fortunately, the woman selling it to me appeared more and more desperate to get the money. and it wasn't a "god, this car sucks" so much as it was "god, i hate my ex-husband and this car reminds me of him too much". it's a 1998 saturn wagon and i already love it (unless, of course, the engine falls completely off tomorrow; in which case i will continue to love the car wash i bought it today, but not much else). it's a beaut.
also, two weeks ago i went to garden grove (smells like blue dog inside the van) to take my level 1 NICET (National Institute for Certification of Engineering Technicians) tests. i have run most of these tests for a long time, but i walked out of the testing very unconfident. i was pretty sure i had fucked up and would receive a shitload of wellearned abuse from my fellow labbies. i got the results in the mail today and...i passed all three first levels (soils, concrete and asphalt). out of 34 tests i failed only three (one i knew i failed and two that had me scratching my head). this, to me, is the best news of the dayweekmonth. it would have ben bery bery humiliating had i not passed, even though i was afraid i had bombed. here's a sample question of what i did miss:
Assuming no friction, how many Newtons of Force would it take to move a stationary object of such and such a weight into constant motion at such and such a speed?
um, who fucking cares? i guessed and may have gotten it right, because i passed that test for some unknown reason. my goodness, basic math and physical science were never my forte, but when did they start wanting to know what wattage/amperage would provide the most power? again, who the fuck cares? but i passed and i can go into work tomorrow knowing that now our lab is one of the very few in the state to have four labbies holding this title at the same time. it's so very cool.
anyway, it's time for political/social outrage and spittle. so, grab your drool cups and prepare to wonder what the hell i live for since it ain't sex and fritoes:

In the world as Bunnatine Greenhouse sees it, people do the right thing. They stand up for the greater good and they speak up when things go wrong. She believes God has a purpose for each life and she prays every day for that purpose to be made evident. These days she is praying her heart out, because she is in a great deal of trouble.

The news that Toyota is locating its next North American auto plant in Canada rather than in the U.S. shouldn't have come as such a shock to American bigwigs.

If there’s still any question what to call it — and Lord knows some in Washington tried — Ohio can now sadly assure the nation beyond any shadow of doubt.

Last week, Bush again brushed off polls showing his public approval ratings are the lowest of his presidency, saying a politician who made decisions based on polls would be "a miserable leader."
Reminded that power is perception, Bush scoffed, "Power is being president."

Several recent developments —persistently high gasoline prices, unprecedented warnings from the Secretary of Energy and the major oil companies, China's brief pursuit of the American Unocal Corporation—suggest that we are just about to enter the Twilight Era of Petroleum

Will fundamentalism tighten its grip on Hollywood, as it did many years ago?

It's "backdoor budget chicanery,"

"At this time we have a choice to make. Father God is watching while we cause Mother Earth so much pain. It's such a shame. Not enough money for the young, the old, the poor, but for war there is always more,"

Mohamed Yousry, an Arabic-language translator, has been practicing for life in a prison cell. He closes himself into small spaces to meditate and combs through his library for nonpolitical books he supposes his keepers will allow him to read.

and the letter i can't send to the Wall Street Journal can be read here (and the reason i can't send is that i have to subscribe to their crappy rag):
No offense intended to you illustrious journalists there at the Journal, but you just printed another column that stated Valerie Plame got her husband the Niger gig. Do you not read CIA memos? This is a fabrication that was shot down a long time ago. While she had influence over who was asked to Niger to track down the nonexistent "yellowcake", all CIA bigwigs and 'those in the know' have stated en masse that Joe Wilson was not her decision or request and their decision was not based on her influence or request. Their decision was based on his expertise and experience. Oh, and willingness to go without large entourage or expense account. Get this kind of thing right and you may be able to stop wondering why many of us who consider ourselves "normal" consider you "not".

A Very Sad Day

Peter Jennings died today.

Please welcome the newest group of California nutcakes: the National Association for the Advancement of Preborn Children.

(oh yeah. the New York Times didn't archive their opinion piece that i linked to in my last post. sorry, jane.)

Heroes? Maybe, Maybe Not

here is an interesting story from the new york times that speaks of the dearth of wartime heroes now and how that may have come into play. and it reminds the reader that people like me who are against the war need to remember the men and women who are over there fighting it and just trying to survive and come home, while doing their best to uphold the traditions of the military branches they serve. these people deserve our respect if only because this war is not what they signed up for, but they are not shirking the reponsibility their signing of contracts committed them to. i will argue against this war and the actions of my government, but i can't condemn the soldiers to death. some, i'm sure, love killing anyone who stands in their way. but most just want to do what they agreed to and come home in one piece. you want heroes? no sane soldier who survives will accept that mantle, but they're exactly the ones who deserve it. not because they defended my "freedom", but because they defended themselves and their buddies in a situation they didn't ask for.

Too Good To Be True...

my gawd, it's 1860 all over again. git out the muskets and drop in the powder, martha. we's havin' us a feud.

"South Carolina Republicans say the Democrats need to stop dragging their feet and return the beer money they are owed. Democrats say the check's in the mail."

Rant O' The Week

i know you don't want to hear it, but i'll keep saying it: our current administration (with the acquiescence of both parties in congress) is leading us down the same road that hitler did in the 1930's. the "war on terror", which has now been redubbed "the war on extremism" (because the former was no longer polling well) has been a smokescreen for global hegemony. we don't care if the world is safe for everyone. we only care that it's safe for our corporations. it's about the money, silly. not the democracy. and it's about whatever smallminded agenda the voting base thinks is important (even though it really isn't).
--quick, which would you rather have: a world free of HIV... or $2.00 a gallon gasoline?
--which sounds better to you: no poverty, no malnutrition, no polio...or unlimited weekend and evening minutes?
--make the choice: 13,000 females a year in the U.S.A. impregnated by rapists or a blanket denial of access to an abortion?
--alternate question: accept funds from the U.S.A. for HIV medicine only if you agree to not promote contraceptives as a means of stopping its spread or tell the U.S.A. to go fuck itself, because you know its abstinence message is death incarnate? warning: the latter will keep all american government monies out of your hands.
--(multiple choice) you find yourself invited to a Bush Townhouse speech. you are given a ticket and you go. on the surface you look like a "normal" person (i.e. no tee shirt with anti-bush slogans, no anti-bush cardboard signs stuffed down your pants). the car you arrive in, however, bears a bumpersticker that reads something to the effect of "no war for oil". after you've been seated a man who looks very much like a secret service agent approaches you, flashes what looks like a badge and tells you that you have to leave. do you:
a) acquiesce quietly and do whatever he tells you even though you've done nothing untoward;
b) ask him what the problem is and ask to speak to his boss when he won't tell you what the problem is;
c) quickly strip down to the anti-bush tee shirts that you had worn in under your outer clothing and begin chanting "we will come all over" ala "we will overcome";
d) know that the prunes coupled with the brownies would take effect about now and, taking a squat, share with your bretheren and sisteren the "fruits" of how you view bush's policies toward anyone who attempts to disagree.

you see, i disagree with almost everything he and his bunch have done. i blog about it. i write to the newspaper about it. i email people about it. and i am on a list because of it. not because i am a threat to our country, but simply because i disagree. i was on the FBI's list once before, because i refused to sign up for the selective service back in 1980 or 82. the FBI sent me nasty letters. claimed i was a "class 4 felon". i was in high school. my mother, who is liberal, didn't like the whole SSS process, but told me i had to do it. i lied when she asked if i had gone to the post office and registered. there was no way. i was hip deep in reagan's island hopping down in central america. no way. but that felon thing blew away like so much political baby kissing. i hope this does, too. i hope we rebound as a nation and get our balances back. because right now we are out of whack. we are not dope. we are not sick.
it's amazing to think that whack doesn't mean "hit on the noggin". and sick means not sick.and dope is...cool. as for phat...well, i am not a linguist and so i think i decide to pronounce it p-hat.


from this site comes "an editorial:
...the folks who today call themselves "conservatives" - from Limbaugh to Gingrich to Kristol to the senior Bushies - are not conservatives in either the American or the classical European mold. They represent something entirely new in the experience of America, breathtaking in its sweep and horrifying in its reach and ambitions. They are the "new conservatives" or "neo-conservatives."
Arguably, the last two political philosophers who both influenced world events and shared many of the worldviews of today's neocons were the Nicolo Machiavelli (who published "The Prince" in Italy in 1515) and Jörg Lanz von Liebenfels (who inspired a young Adolf Hitler with his magazine "Ostara").