Thankfully, George W's purpose on earth was finally fulfilled last November, when his Reign of Terror was finally seen for what it really was . . . and a majority of American voters - and the Electoral College - were so fed-up they elected our first African-American president.
Having fulfilled his destiny, it is now time for W to go to The Hague and stand for judgment before the International Criminal Court (ICC). But is it to be? When he was president, W was adamantly opposed to having U.S. military and political leaders, such as himself, Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld, and others, subject to the rules and standards of the ICC. Toward the end of his reign, the genocide practiced in Darfur seems to have softened Bush's stand against the ICC, but only in relation to other nations, not his own.
Rather than facing up to the torture and killings of suspected terrorists and the invasion of a sovereign country (Iraq) that led to the needless casualties of thousands of American servicemen and women as well as hundreds of thousands of Iraqi citizens, Bush and his henchmen claim immunity. After all, they believe they were well within their rights to wage war on Iraq. Their claim's foundation is a house of cards, but their exposure to the ICC is effectively hamstrung by the veto power of the U.S. at the United Nations.
So, the likelihood of the Bush Reign of Terror ever facing justice in this life is remote. But in the next life . . . well, let's just say, I would never want the acres of blood on my hands that they have.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Barbara Bush Gets Heart
Like the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz, Barbara Bush was seriously lacking a heart. However, she got one recently, contributed by a pig, in an operation in Houston.
Although much of the evidence of her lifelong heartless behavior was hidden by the Bush family, she famously exhibited it during the ordeal suffered by New Orleans refugees who were forced to take shelter in Houston post-Katrina. After touring refugee centers in Houston, particularly the Astrodome, Dame Barbara said (paraphrasing), "So many of the people here were underprivileged anyway, so this is working very well for them." Ah, yes, if only a monumentally destructive hurricane could have wiped out their homes earlier . . . perhaps their lives could have been so much better sooner!
Pigs have been noted for having hearts somewhat similar to the humans who raise them lovingly, then slaughter them for meat. Pigs are intelligent, but despite their intelligence, they tend to trust the humans who are responsible for their demise. One wonders if Dame Barbara now shares these traits with her porcine cousins. But, of course, when you are a member of the American ruling class, you don't have to worry about befalling the same fate as the smart, trusting pig.
Still, it is yet to be seen if Dame Barbara will have the "heart" to eat pork during the 2009 holiday season. Oink, oink.
Although much of the evidence of her lifelong heartless behavior was hidden by the Bush family, she famously exhibited it during the ordeal suffered by New Orleans refugees who were forced to take shelter in Houston post-Katrina. After touring refugee centers in Houston, particularly the Astrodome, Dame Barbara said (paraphrasing), "So many of the people here were underprivileged anyway, so this is working very well for them." Ah, yes, if only a monumentally destructive hurricane could have wiped out their homes earlier . . . perhaps their lives could have been so much better sooner!
Pigs have been noted for having hearts somewhat similar to the humans who raise them lovingly, then slaughter them for meat. Pigs are intelligent, but despite their intelligence, they tend to trust the humans who are responsible for their demise. One wonders if Dame Barbara now shares these traits with her porcine cousins. But, of course, when you are a member of the American ruling class, you don't have to worry about befalling the same fate as the smart, trusting pig.
Still, it is yet to be seen if Dame Barbara will have the "heart" to eat pork during the 2009 holiday season. Oink, oink.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
What it's like to be a part of history
I went to the inauguration of the 44th president of the United States, Barack Obama, and I'm not sure how to put that experience into words. But I'll try. (I shot 80+ minutes of video, and I'll add a clip as soon as I have it edited.)
I've never been in a sea of people before. I've been in big crowds, but nothing like this. According to media reports, almost two million people attended. I have no idea, but everywhere you looked, there was the sea of humanity. And what was truly astounding was that I saw no meanness, no unkindness. I only saw people being polite and considerate. I saw people trying to help people who were infirm, making way for others in wheelchairs, being kind and gentle to other people's children.
I saw the hopeful, happy faces on the old, the young, and the in-between. I saw happiness and joy. When I first entered a main artery of the District, I was shooting video, smiling like a maniac myself, in awe at the sea of people, and I was overcome with emotion. Tears trickled down my cheeks. I couldn't help myself, and I didn't want to. I was uncontrollably happy too.
I'm 60 years old. I didn't think I would experience such an event in my lifetime. It was more, much more, than an individual, blended African-American being sworn in to the highest position in my country - our country. This was America. This was the melting pot. This was democracy. THIS was the will of The People.
I arrived at Washington National in the afternoon of January 19, boarded the Metro (it was the only way to get around in the District), and found my way (with the help and kindness of a Washington business connection) to a hotel. I then went to the hotel's men's room, locked myself in a stall and changed into my tux so I could attend the Texas delegation's Black Tie and Boots Inaugural Ball. I re-boarded the Metro and went to another station where a shuttle was taking attendees to the ball (approximately 10,000 attended this event), which was being held at the gigantic Gaylord Resort and Conference Center. Sparkly surroundings, sparkly people. Numerous ballrooms, name entertainment, including Asleep at the Wheel, Gary P. Nunn, and many others.
I met another kind, considerate business connection at the Gaylord, and spent the night in her guest room of her house in Bethesda. The next morning, she took me to the nearest Metro stop. I had my suit bag with the tux and painful boots, a bag with a video camera, and a computer bag. These I planned to check at another hotel near the National Mall. The Metro was unbelievably crowded, but I shlepped the baggage, faltering only at the station near the hotel when I had to climb what seemed like hundreds of steps because the escalators were shut down. True to the spirit of the crowd, a thoughtful gentleman helped me get my baggage the rest of the way up the steps after my legs protested near the top.
After checking my bags, I started walking toward the mall, but I had made a false start. I had gotten a standing room ticket from one of my connections the night before, and I was walking in the opposite direction from my destination. Another kind person informed me of my error. I reversed direction and was finally on my way toward my designated checkpoint.
When I finally reached the checkpoint, I found - along with hundreds of others - that we were, inexplicably, being refused entrance by three authority figures. We waved our tickets and chanted, "We have tickets . . . let us in!" For comic relief, I began chanting "Attica, Attica!" Finally, I said to others around me, "I know what we would have done in the '60s - there are a lot more of us than there are of them." The next thing I knew we were doing just that . . . going for it. We broke through the flimsy barricades and wound up where we were supposed to be in the first place - standing on the shore of the reflecting pool, opposite the Capitol Building. We witnessed history that day. And we are all changed for it - in the best way imaginable.
I didn't even mind that I couldn't get out of D.C. until 8 p.m., missing my foolishly booked 3 p.m. flight. I found a place to stay - again, through the kindness of a stranger. The next day I successfully flew standby. I'm back home . . . and my life has been enriched in a way I never dreamed possible.
I've never been in a sea of people before. I've been in big crowds, but nothing like this. According to media reports, almost two million people attended. I have no idea, but everywhere you looked, there was the sea of humanity. And what was truly astounding was that I saw no meanness, no unkindness. I only saw people being polite and considerate. I saw people trying to help people who were infirm, making way for others in wheelchairs, being kind and gentle to other people's children.
I saw the hopeful, happy faces on the old, the young, and the in-between. I saw happiness and joy. When I first entered a main artery of the District, I was shooting video, smiling like a maniac myself, in awe at the sea of people, and I was overcome with emotion. Tears trickled down my cheeks. I couldn't help myself, and I didn't want to. I was uncontrollably happy too.
I'm 60 years old. I didn't think I would experience such an event in my lifetime. It was more, much more, than an individual, blended African-American being sworn in to the highest position in my country - our country. This was America. This was the melting pot. This was democracy. THIS was the will of The People.
I arrived at Washington National in the afternoon of January 19, boarded the Metro (it was the only way to get around in the District), and found my way (with the help and kindness of a Washington business connection) to a hotel. I then went to the hotel's men's room, locked myself in a stall and changed into my tux so I could attend the Texas delegation's Black Tie and Boots Inaugural Ball. I re-boarded the Metro and went to another station where a shuttle was taking attendees to the ball (approximately 10,000 attended this event), which was being held at the gigantic Gaylord Resort and Conference Center. Sparkly surroundings, sparkly people. Numerous ballrooms, name entertainment, including Asleep at the Wheel, Gary P. Nunn, and many others.
I met another kind, considerate business connection at the Gaylord, and spent the night in her guest room of her house in Bethesda. The next morning, she took me to the nearest Metro stop. I had my suit bag with the tux and painful boots, a bag with a video camera, and a computer bag. These I planned to check at another hotel near the National Mall. The Metro was unbelievably crowded, but I shlepped the baggage, faltering only at the station near the hotel when I had to climb what seemed like hundreds of steps because the escalators were shut down. True to the spirit of the crowd, a thoughtful gentleman helped me get my baggage the rest of the way up the steps after my legs protested near the top.
After checking my bags, I started walking toward the mall, but I had made a false start. I had gotten a standing room ticket from one of my connections the night before, and I was walking in the opposite direction from my destination. Another kind person informed me of my error. I reversed direction and was finally on my way toward my designated checkpoint.
When I finally reached the checkpoint, I found - along with hundreds of others - that we were, inexplicably, being refused entrance by three authority figures. We waved our tickets and chanted, "We have tickets . . . let us in!" For comic relief, I began chanting "Attica, Attica!" Finally, I said to others around me, "I know what we would have done in the '60s - there are a lot more of us than there are of them." The next thing I knew we were doing just that . . . going for it. We broke through the flimsy barricades and wound up where we were supposed to be in the first place - standing on the shore of the reflecting pool, opposite the Capitol Building. We witnessed history that day. And we are all changed for it - in the best way imaginable.
I didn't even mind that I couldn't get out of D.C. until 8 p.m., missing my foolishly booked 3 p.m. flight. I found a place to stay - again, through the kindness of a stranger. The next day I successfully flew standby. I'm back home . . . and my life has been enriched in a way I never dreamed possible.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
AC/DC, Australian Pink Floyd, Black Queen Speaks & Troublemaker
It's been a long, dry spell for posts but not for excellent music!
I've been very fortunate to be entertained in the past three months by AC/DC, Australian Pink Floyd, Black Queen Speaks and Troublemaker. The latter two groups are local to the Houston area.
Black Queen Speaks (BQS) features this blog's designer, Gabe Lopez, on bass, and three other outstandingly talented performers on guitar, drums, and guitar/vocals. Mike, the vocalist, sneaks up on you: he is handsome, clean-cut, and resembles the guy who rode up to your house on a bike, bearing witness for the Mormons. Consistent with his nice guy image, Mike is the most considerate musician making heavy music - when I saw BQS at Bohemeo's in Houston (an intimate poetry, art and music venue), he passed out earplugs to everyone in the audience. But what issues from his larynx is nothing short of a clarion cry about what's happening on the street. The boy is hot . . . and his lyrics are all-adult. BQS performs all original compositions that will remind you musically of classic rock anthems . . . fused with totally up-to-date rhythms. Catch this excellent act at Rudyard's on Waugh Dr. on Thursday, January 22, or at many other venues throughout 2009!
Troublemaker features frontwoman Kat (Kathy) James, owner of Kat's Guitars in The Woodlands (contained in All Pawn, owned by Kat's hubby, on I-45 North near Sawdust). Kat and Troublemaker put on an exciting show, which I took in at the 19th Hole on Sawdust Road. The first set consisted of great covers - AC/DC, Metallica, the Black Crows, etc. The second set was Kat's trademark tribute to Janis Joplin - Janis on the Rocks. Kat plays lead and rhythm guitar like Joan Jett and sings like Janis. And that Jack Daniels growl is authentic - Jack Black is the band's official beverage. Catch this great act at clubs all over the Houston area.
AC/DC put on the most amazing show at Toyota Center I've seen since the days of Alice Cooper. It was a rock extravaganza, complete with animated, sex-soaked movie clips, a huge, inflated Whole Lotta Rosie, and Angus in his usual rare form. It's hard to believe these guys are moving into senior citizen-hood . . . they were more energetic than most of the young fans who were brought to the concert by their parents! It was my first time to attend an AC/DC concert, but Sensei Deddy Mansyur, who accompanied me, had seen them a couple of years after he arrived in the U.S., in 1979. I asked him which show was the more impressive . . . he didn't hesitate: "This is better," he said, with a gleam in his eye!
And Australian Pink Floyd brought something to the Verizon Wireless Theater that transcended the meaning of "tribute band." The group is composed of tremendously talented musicians in their own right. The Aussies have been at it for 20-plus years, and they have honed the music, vocals and theater into a fine representation of Gilmour, Waters, Wright and Mason . . . not to mention the three outstanding women backup vocalists. The morning after, I genuinely felt like I had been to a Pink Floyd concert the night before. All in all, it was all the bricks in The Wall!
I've been very fortunate to be entertained in the past three months by AC/DC, Australian Pink Floyd, Black Queen Speaks and Troublemaker. The latter two groups are local to the Houston area.
Black Queen Speaks (BQS) features this blog's designer, Gabe Lopez, on bass, and three other outstandingly talented performers on guitar, drums, and guitar/vocals. Mike, the vocalist, sneaks up on you: he is handsome, clean-cut, and resembles the guy who rode up to your house on a bike, bearing witness for the Mormons. Consistent with his nice guy image, Mike is the most considerate musician making heavy music - when I saw BQS at Bohemeo's in Houston (an intimate poetry, art and music venue), he passed out earplugs to everyone in the audience. But what issues from his larynx is nothing short of a clarion cry about what's happening on the street. The boy is hot . . . and his lyrics are all-adult. BQS performs all original compositions that will remind you musically of classic rock anthems . . . fused with totally up-to-date rhythms. Catch this excellent act at Rudyard's on Waugh Dr. on Thursday, January 22, or at many other venues throughout 2009!
Troublemaker features frontwoman Kat (Kathy) James, owner of Kat's Guitars in The Woodlands (contained in All Pawn, owned by Kat's hubby, on I-45 North near Sawdust). Kat and Troublemaker put on an exciting show, which I took in at the 19th Hole on Sawdust Road. The first set consisted of great covers - AC/DC, Metallica, the Black Crows, etc. The second set was Kat's trademark tribute to Janis Joplin - Janis on the Rocks. Kat plays lead and rhythm guitar like Joan Jett and sings like Janis. And that Jack Daniels growl is authentic - Jack Black is the band's official beverage. Catch this great act at clubs all over the Houston area.
AC/DC put on the most amazing show at Toyota Center I've seen since the days of Alice Cooper. It was a rock extravaganza, complete with animated, sex-soaked movie clips, a huge, inflated Whole Lotta Rosie, and Angus in his usual rare form. It's hard to believe these guys are moving into senior citizen-hood . . . they were more energetic than most of the young fans who were brought to the concert by their parents! It was my first time to attend an AC/DC concert, but Sensei Deddy Mansyur, who accompanied me, had seen them a couple of years after he arrived in the U.S., in 1979. I asked him which show was the more impressive . . . he didn't hesitate: "This is better," he said, with a gleam in his eye!
And Australian Pink Floyd brought something to the Verizon Wireless Theater that transcended the meaning of "tribute band." The group is composed of tremendously talented musicians in their own right. The Aussies have been at it for 20-plus years, and they have honed the music, vocals and theater into a fine representation of Gilmour, Waters, Wright and Mason . . . not to mention the three outstanding women backup vocalists. The morning after, I genuinely felt like I had been to a Pink Floyd concert the night before. All in all, it was all the bricks in The Wall!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Shine On, You Crazy Diamond
My adopted human, playing 12-string guitar at his Sensei's (Deddy Mansyur's) Christmas party. Sensei is the Indonesian-American living karate legend, who started the Shotokan Karate-Do in Houston at the University of Houston in 1978.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Just Shoot Me!
If Sarah "Bushette" Palin becomes our next VP, please just shoot me and put me out of my misery.
I don't think I can stand to listen to that nasal, annoying harangue for four years! Maybe rather than shooting me, you could just give me a one-way ticket to Canada or the Netherlands. I won't have to suffer through 12 straight years of Republican crapola AND I will have healthcare coverage without having to wait until I'm 65! Whoopee!!! I could actually afford to retire!
It was tough, but I managed to slosh through her BS rhetoric that the other Bush Babies wrote for her to toss at Joe Biden. Lots of one-liners, lots of zingers, zero substance . . . it was her address at the RNC revisited. As Yogi Berra says, it was deja vu all over again.
Here's the really astounding part: the Red team is pretending to be happy that she's the Veep candidate!?! WTF? She whose most impressive qualification is - as Senator Fred Thompson, the movie star who may not be much of a senator but plays one in Washington, recounted with pride at the RNC - SHE's PROBABLY THE FIRST REPUBLICAN PREZ OR VP CANDIDATE SINCE TEDDY ROOSEVELT WHO CAN FIELD DRESS A MOOSE!!!
Yep, that's certainly a quality I've always looked for in a Presidential or VP candidate! Oh, and she's had Real Management Experience. Since when did being the Mayor of Wasilla, Alaska, a town outside Anchorage with a population of fewer than 6,000, constitute Real Management Experience? For that matter, since when did being a first-term Governor of Alaska (she was elected governor in 2006) constitute Real Management Experience? Or being any other kind of politician constitute Real Management Experience (RME)? Do the Reds even know what RME is??? Are they as stupid as they seem on this issue, or are they grasping at straws to say something impressive about this unbelieveably desperate and obvious ploy to woo over dejected Hillary voters?
I think it's the latter. They're NOT stupid. Some of the lemmings that follow the party leaders and blindly do their bidding ARE stupid and/or delusional. But the monied dudes that rule the party and have their hands up their candidates' asses like master puppeteers are not stupid! But they're dangerous . . . and they're scary. They have no qualms about packing up the whole lot of us dissenters and free-thinkers and sending us off to Gitmo to rot while they pile up the obscene profits they stand to gain under a McCain administration.
But back to Sarah Bushette. As I've said before, I don't have a personal disgust issue with McCain as I do with Dubya. But I freaking can't stand Ms. Bushette. She's Dubya in a skirt! (Ugh, what an image!) I don't know if she partied and snorted coke the way Dubya did before George the Elder and Babs the Biddy took him aside and pinned back his ears (although they must have come unpinned, 'cause only Ross Perot rivals him in the protruding ear department).
But she's just as willing to rape and pillage the environment and our animal friends - she's just itching to screw up the Alaska National Wildlife Refuge (beware of those who are eager to foul their own nests!) and as maniacal as Ted Nugent in heat about opening up a Big Bazooka of Whipass on the unwary caribou!
But bless her little black, nasal, annoying heart . . . she sure don't cotton to those there Gay Americans (in spite of pretending to be a POPULIST, for God's sake!!!). Yeah, when it comes to queers, she's in full support of the TRADITIONAL CONCEPT OF MARRIAGE - marriage is reserved for one man and one woman . . . and don't try to throw any of those beasties into the mix either, you guys, because that's just not the way we do things in Wasilla, do ya hear????
Uh . . . Sarah . . . Ms. Bushette . . . what about the TRADITIONAL CONCEPT OF HAVING CHILDREN???? Uh . . . didn't your little sassy-ass daughter, Bristol The Red-Hot Pistol, do the WILD THING with that notorious HORN-DOG Levi Johnston??? I think that's how that baby got made . . . talk about your Bridge to Nowhere. Where goest thou, Sarah Bushette??? Where speakest thou?
How art thou able to speak out of both sides of thy mouth and STILL sound so all-fired ANNOYING???
On second thought, if Ms. Bushette gets elected, you won't have to shoot me . . . I'm sure the hockey mom with the AK-47 will take care of that herself.
I don't think I can stand to listen to that nasal, annoying harangue for four years! Maybe rather than shooting me, you could just give me a one-way ticket to Canada or the Netherlands. I won't have to suffer through 12 straight years of Republican crapola AND I will have healthcare coverage without having to wait until I'm 65! Whoopee!!! I could actually afford to retire!
It was tough, but I managed to slosh through her BS rhetoric that the other Bush Babies wrote for her to toss at Joe Biden. Lots of one-liners, lots of zingers, zero substance . . . it was her address at the RNC revisited. As Yogi Berra says, it was deja vu all over again.
Here's the really astounding part: the Red team is pretending to be happy that she's the Veep candidate!?! WTF? She whose most impressive qualification is - as Senator Fred Thompson, the movie star who may not be much of a senator but plays one in Washington, recounted with pride at the RNC - SHE's PROBABLY THE FIRST REPUBLICAN PREZ OR VP CANDIDATE SINCE TEDDY ROOSEVELT WHO CAN FIELD DRESS A MOOSE!!!
Yep, that's certainly a quality I've always looked for in a Presidential or VP candidate! Oh, and she's had Real Management Experience. Since when did being the Mayor of Wasilla, Alaska, a town outside Anchorage with a population of fewer than 6,000, constitute Real Management Experience? For that matter, since when did being a first-term Governor of Alaska (she was elected governor in 2006) constitute Real Management Experience? Or being any other kind of politician constitute Real Management Experience (RME)? Do the Reds even know what RME is??? Are they as stupid as they seem on this issue, or are they grasping at straws to say something impressive about this unbelieveably desperate and obvious ploy to woo over dejected Hillary voters?
I think it's the latter. They're NOT stupid. Some of the lemmings that follow the party leaders and blindly do their bidding ARE stupid and/or delusional. But the monied dudes that rule the party and have their hands up their candidates' asses like master puppeteers are not stupid! But they're dangerous . . . and they're scary. They have no qualms about packing up the whole lot of us dissenters and free-thinkers and sending us off to Gitmo to rot while they pile up the obscene profits they stand to gain under a McCain administration.
But back to Sarah Bushette. As I've said before, I don't have a personal disgust issue with McCain as I do with Dubya. But I freaking can't stand Ms. Bushette. She's Dubya in a skirt! (Ugh, what an image!) I don't know if she partied and snorted coke the way Dubya did before George the Elder and Babs the Biddy took him aside and pinned back his ears (although they must have come unpinned, 'cause only Ross Perot rivals him in the protruding ear department).
But she's just as willing to rape and pillage the environment and our animal friends - she's just itching to screw up the Alaska National Wildlife Refuge (beware of those who are eager to foul their own nests!) and as maniacal as Ted Nugent in heat about opening up a Big Bazooka of Whipass on the unwary caribou!
But bless her little black, nasal, annoying heart . . . she sure don't cotton to those there Gay Americans (in spite of pretending to be a POPULIST, for God's sake!!!). Yeah, when it comes to queers, she's in full support of the TRADITIONAL CONCEPT OF MARRIAGE - marriage is reserved for one man and one woman . . . and don't try to throw any of those beasties into the mix either, you guys, because that's just not the way we do things in Wasilla, do ya hear????
Uh . . . Sarah . . . Ms. Bushette . . . what about the TRADITIONAL CONCEPT OF HAVING CHILDREN???? Uh . . . didn't your little sassy-ass daughter, Bristol The Red-Hot Pistol, do the WILD THING with that notorious HORN-DOG Levi Johnston??? I think that's how that baby got made . . . talk about your Bridge to Nowhere. Where goest thou, Sarah Bushette??? Where speakest thou?
How art thou able to speak out of both sides of thy mouth and STILL sound so all-fired ANNOYING???
On second thought, if Ms. Bushette gets elected, you won't have to shoot me . . . I'm sure the hockey mom with the AK-47 will take care of that herself.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
I Like Ike
Well, Hurricane Ike came and went, and while the title of this post seems ironic, believe it or not, there were some reasons to like Ike.
Extreme weather events, such as hurricanes, tend to bring out the best in the best people and the worst in the worst ones. I was privileged to witness the best.
And the days preceding Ike brought Charlie to us. Following the heartbreak associated with little Barack (see "Keep Your Feline Babies Indoors," August 30, in the "Older Posts" of this blog), little Charlie turned up in our backyard. This feline baby - another male - was obviously abandoned. He had no home except our backyard.
Little Charlie probably would not have survived through Ike. He was eight weeks old and weighed 2.2 pounds when my significant other managed to lure him into a cat carrier and took him to the vet. He had fleas, ear mites, and a parasite, but he was healthy - no feline AIDS like little Barack had, thank God. He has what appeared to be a little black mustache, reminding me of Charlie Chaplin, hence his name.
Charlie has a good home. We plan to spoil him in every way possible. He is well on his way to becoming royally spoiled. That's our job, and we plan to excel at it. He's as sweet and loving as a little kitten can possibly be.
In a future post, I will write more about little Charlie - and his 10-year-old sister, Jewel, who is going to be incredibly annoyed when she finds out the real truth about him (he's quarantined in our guest bedroom now, and the two have not yet been formally introduced).
Today, we just got power back on following Hurricane Ike's relentless march through the Texas and Louisiana coastal areas. Actually, it was yesterday, because midnight just came and went while I'm writing this post.
It has been a long day. It has been a long five-days-plus since Ike made landfall on Saturday. Little Charlie is asleep. And soon I will join him.
Extreme weather events, such as hurricanes, tend to bring out the best in the best people and the worst in the worst ones. I was privileged to witness the best.
And the days preceding Ike brought Charlie to us. Following the heartbreak associated with little Barack (see "Keep Your Feline Babies Indoors," August 30, in the "Older Posts" of this blog), little Charlie turned up in our backyard. This feline baby - another male - was obviously abandoned. He had no home except our backyard.
Little Charlie probably would not have survived through Ike. He was eight weeks old and weighed 2.2 pounds when my significant other managed to lure him into a cat carrier and took him to the vet. He had fleas, ear mites, and a parasite, but he was healthy - no feline AIDS like little Barack had, thank God. He has what appeared to be a little black mustache, reminding me of Charlie Chaplin, hence his name.
Charlie has a good home. We plan to spoil him in every way possible. He is well on his way to becoming royally spoiled. That's our job, and we plan to excel at it. He's as sweet and loving as a little kitten can possibly be.
In a future post, I will write more about little Charlie - and his 10-year-old sister, Jewel, who is going to be incredibly annoyed when she finds out the real truth about him (he's quarantined in our guest bedroom now, and the two have not yet been formally introduced).
Today, we just got power back on following Hurricane Ike's relentless march through the Texas and Louisiana coastal areas. Actually, it was yesterday, because midnight just came and went while I'm writing this post.
It has been a long day. It has been a long five-days-plus since Ike made landfall on Saturday. Little Charlie is asleep. And soon I will join him.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Jesus was a communist
Ok, before you go ballistic, please read what this is about.
There is nothing here that is sacrilegious or blasphemous. The communism I mean is the pure meaning of the word. The political doctrine of Marx and Engels appropriated the term "communism," but that's not the communism I mean. Jesus and his disciples, a.k.a., the apostles, shared things in common, hence they were communistic in their daily lives.
They were not interested in enriching themselves or in leading followers to a sociopolitical party. They did, in effect, rebel against the prevailing way of life, including the Hebraic tacit endorsement or, at the least, tolerance of the status quo. They were radicals, and their radicalism caused Jesus to be crucified and their prominent figures to be excoriated and, in some cases, killed by the ruling powers of the time.
Modern-day, self-proclaimed Christians seem to have forgotten or to have selective memory about the history of their religion. Many of today's church "leaders" preach a doctrine that implies that being a Christian is a way to enrich yourself in this life. The emphasis on the afterlife is still present, but it's treated almost as a footnote to this feel-good focus on ensuring material comfort while in the present dimension.
That's not the church I grew up in. But it is the church that has - I believe - all but turned its back on what it means to be Christian. To be Christian, in the tradition of Jesus and the apostles may be difficult, because it entails making personal sacrifices for the common good. It entails being a rebel . . . and when necessary, putting your life on the line for what you believe. It entails criticizing and standing up to the status quo. It demands that you do what is right for your fellow man and God's other creations, in spite of what your government, your political party or your false prophets say you should do.
Jesus loved the little lambs. But he didn't want us to be sheep.
There is nothing here that is sacrilegious or blasphemous. The communism I mean is the pure meaning of the word. The political doctrine of Marx and Engels appropriated the term "communism," but that's not the communism I mean. Jesus and his disciples, a.k.a., the apostles, shared things in common, hence they were communistic in their daily lives.
They were not interested in enriching themselves or in leading followers to a sociopolitical party. They did, in effect, rebel against the prevailing way of life, including the Hebraic tacit endorsement or, at the least, tolerance of the status quo. They were radicals, and their radicalism caused Jesus to be crucified and their prominent figures to be excoriated and, in some cases, killed by the ruling powers of the time.
Modern-day, self-proclaimed Christians seem to have forgotten or to have selective memory about the history of their religion. Many of today's church "leaders" preach a doctrine that implies that being a Christian is a way to enrich yourself in this life. The emphasis on the afterlife is still present, but it's treated almost as a footnote to this feel-good focus on ensuring material comfort while in the present dimension.
That's not the church I grew up in. But it is the church that has - I believe - all but turned its back on what it means to be Christian. To be Christian, in the tradition of Jesus and the apostles may be difficult, because it entails making personal sacrifices for the common good. It entails being a rebel . . . and when necessary, putting your life on the line for what you believe. It entails criticizing and standing up to the status quo. It demands that you do what is right for your fellow man and God's other creations, in spite of what your government, your political party or your false prophets say you should do.
Jesus loved the little lambs. But he didn't want us to be sheep.
Cult of personality and misdirected votes
Why do we persist in being so stupid?
When it comes to politics in our country - at least presidential politics - the cult of personality holds sway. Nothing else is stronger in determining who most of us decide to vote for.
Why does that matter? Because it causes us to vote for the political crapola that every campaign makes up to appeal to as wide a spectrum of voters as possible. Because it causes us to vote against our best interests. It makes us even more stupid than we already are.
Why am I so harsh about our mental faculties? I'm not. I just observe what happens and comment on it. Ok, here come the generalizations, the broad-brush, so be forewarned. No, not everyone is the way that I'm about to describe, but from where I sit, this applies to the majority.
What I've observed, in six decades of living, is that Americans think this is the best country on the planet, even if they've never been to any other country. That's a pleasant little conceit, but the people who haven't been anywhere else don't seem to even entertain the possibility that someplace else might suit them better. Most of them were born here - a fluke of biological processes, not a choice. What if they went for an extended visit to Sweden, say, or Kenya, and decided they liked one of those places better? Would that make them a traitor?
We think the quality of life is better in the United States, and we believe the economy and government have no equal. But there's lots of evidence to dispute those beliefs. When you compare individual aspects of our lives, a number of countries are either comparable or way out ahead.
When it comes to healthcare, for example, we have about 47 million uninsured Americans. As a whole, virtually all Europeans are covered by healthcare systems. So, political conservatives would say those Europeans have socialized medicine and they pay out the nose for it. But guess which country has the most expensive healthcare? No need to look across the pond - the most expensive is right here in the good old U.S.A.
Then there's the argument that government-assured healthcare is not good healthcare. But the healthcare is so good and so cheap in some other countries - India, for example (where a growing number of the doctors in this country come from) - that Americans travel there for procedures in first-class hospitals by top-notch doctors for a fraction of what it would cost them at home.
Enough about healthcare - more about that in another post. Back to the cult of personality. We tend to vote for the good old guy, the fraternity brother, the popular class clown whose parents bought him a diploma from a good school, who never really studied, who dated the cheerleaders, who was voted most likely to succeed (not because he was smart but because his family had "connections"), and who seems like the kind of guy you'd enjoy having a beer with. Even if he doesn't drink beer anymore. He cleaned up totally after the family intervention because of his wild partying and excessive cocaine snorting. Oops . . . I guess we just voted for that guy once (maybe) four years ago . . . the first time he was appointed (or "anointed") by the Supreme Court.
But you get the point. This year, we seem to be deciding to vote for a old soldier who happened to get shot down and captured during the Vietnam War, who withstood horrible torture, and who decided to parlay his misfortune into a political career. Who used to be a maverick and who sold out to the neoconservative forces of darkness that derailed his strong candidacy in 2000. And who is somehow the best qualified to lead because he is a "war hero" and "ready to lead."
Or, we're voting for a former community organizer who is very smart, very skillful, has a winning smile and is one of the best orators of our time. He's a "rock star."
I happen to be for the latter guy. However, even if he were as ugly as Quasimodo, I would still be voting for him. Why? Because I don't believe in voting for "personalities." I know it's a radical position to take, but I believe in voting for the ISSUES.
What a concept.
When it comes to politics in our country - at least presidential politics - the cult of personality holds sway. Nothing else is stronger in determining who most of us decide to vote for.
Why does that matter? Because it causes us to vote for the political crapola that every campaign makes up to appeal to as wide a spectrum of voters as possible. Because it causes us to vote against our best interests. It makes us even more stupid than we already are.
Why am I so harsh about our mental faculties? I'm not. I just observe what happens and comment on it. Ok, here come the generalizations, the broad-brush, so be forewarned. No, not everyone is the way that I'm about to describe, but from where I sit, this applies to the majority.
What I've observed, in six decades of living, is that Americans think this is the best country on the planet, even if they've never been to any other country. That's a pleasant little conceit, but the people who haven't been anywhere else don't seem to even entertain the possibility that someplace else might suit them better. Most of them were born here - a fluke of biological processes, not a choice. What if they went for an extended visit to Sweden, say, or Kenya, and decided they liked one of those places better? Would that make them a traitor?
We think the quality of life is better in the United States, and we believe the economy and government have no equal. But there's lots of evidence to dispute those beliefs. When you compare individual aspects of our lives, a number of countries are either comparable or way out ahead.
When it comes to healthcare, for example, we have about 47 million uninsured Americans. As a whole, virtually all Europeans are covered by healthcare systems. So, political conservatives would say those Europeans have socialized medicine and they pay out the nose for it. But guess which country has the most expensive healthcare? No need to look across the pond - the most expensive is right here in the good old U.S.A.
Then there's the argument that government-assured healthcare is not good healthcare. But the healthcare is so good and so cheap in some other countries - India, for example (where a growing number of the doctors in this country come from) - that Americans travel there for procedures in first-class hospitals by top-notch doctors for a fraction of what it would cost them at home.
Enough about healthcare - more about that in another post. Back to the cult of personality. We tend to vote for the good old guy, the fraternity brother, the popular class clown whose parents bought him a diploma from a good school, who never really studied, who dated the cheerleaders, who was voted most likely to succeed (not because he was smart but because his family had "connections"), and who seems like the kind of guy you'd enjoy having a beer with. Even if he doesn't drink beer anymore. He cleaned up totally after the family intervention because of his wild partying and excessive cocaine snorting. Oops . . . I guess we just voted for that guy once (maybe) four years ago . . . the first time he was appointed (or "anointed") by the Supreme Court.
But you get the point. This year, we seem to be deciding to vote for a old soldier who happened to get shot down and captured during the Vietnam War, who withstood horrible torture, and who decided to parlay his misfortune into a political career. Who used to be a maverick and who sold out to the neoconservative forces of darkness that derailed his strong candidacy in 2000. And who is somehow the best qualified to lead because he is a "war hero" and "ready to lead."
Or, we're voting for a former community organizer who is very smart, very skillful, has a winning smile and is one of the best orators of our time. He's a "rock star."
I happen to be for the latter guy. However, even if he were as ugly as Quasimodo, I would still be voting for him. Why? Because I don't believe in voting for "personalities." I know it's a radical position to take, but I believe in voting for the ISSUES.
What a concept.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
How do you spell nausea? R-e-a-g-a-n w-o-r-s-h-i-p
Good grief! They're canonizing Reagan again at the RNC in St. Paul.
Why are the Republicans so gay for this guy? (That's not my line - have to give credit to Bill Maher, but it's so true and sums it up so well.) They were bestowing sainthood on His Holiness Ronnie while the theme from some hack western movie played in the background. I think I saw the specter of 20 Mule Team Borax in the shadowy background. Not since he hosted Death Valley Days has Dutch been so "John Wayned."
He gave it all for his country. But he took a lot for himself. And he left our economy in shambles.
The first president to increase the national debt by more than $200 billion in one year, Ronnie promoted the most crippling economic policies in my lifetime . . . until Dubya came along. And for his mismanagement, an airport was named for him. An airport! For a president who was the arch-enemy of the air traffic controllers' union.
Come to think of it, they should be gay for Ronnie. He epitomized many of the truly hypocritical principles of the GOP.
Why are the Republicans so gay for this guy? (That's not my line - have to give credit to Bill Maher, but it's so true and sums it up so well.) They were bestowing sainthood on His Holiness Ronnie while the theme from some hack western movie played in the background. I think I saw the specter of 20 Mule Team Borax in the shadowy background. Not since he hosted Death Valley Days has Dutch been so "John Wayned."
He gave it all for his country. But he took a lot for himself. And he left our economy in shambles.
The first president to increase the national debt by more than $200 billion in one year, Ronnie promoted the most crippling economic policies in my lifetime . . . until Dubya came along. And for his mismanagement, an airport was named for him. An airport! For a president who was the arch-enemy of the air traffic controllers' union.
Come to think of it, they should be gay for Ronnie. He epitomized many of the truly hypocritical principles of the GOP.
Drink to me only with thine eyes!
What the hell happened to Joe Lieberman?
How do you go from being the Democratic Vice Presidential nominee eight years ago to being John McCain's lapdog today? Perhaps a nocturnal visit from Nosferatu Bush . . . oh, the fangs, the blood, the foul and deadly bacterial venom . . . worse than the bite of the Komodo Dragon. That might have done it. I can think of nothing else powerful enough to make the transformation.
Except LOVE. Yes, that could be it. I heard McCain giving an interview the other evening: "Joe is a wonderful, warm man. So warm, so wonderful. The other evening, I asked Joe if he would be there for me. He rolled over, looked deep into my eyes, and said, 'John, I would bend over forward for you . . . you just ask . . . and I will deliver. Or you can deliver. Or we can take turns delivering.' That's the kind of guy Joe is," McCain continued, "a real stand-up guy. Unless you want him to kneel or lie down . . . or roll over and pant."
Yes, love. That could be it.
How do you go from being the Democratic Vice Presidential nominee eight years ago to being John McCain's lapdog today? Perhaps a nocturnal visit from Nosferatu Bush . . . oh, the fangs, the blood, the foul and deadly bacterial venom . . . worse than the bite of the Komodo Dragon. That might have done it. I can think of nothing else powerful enough to make the transformation.
Except LOVE. Yes, that could be it. I heard McCain giving an interview the other evening: "Joe is a wonderful, warm man. So warm, so wonderful. The other evening, I asked Joe if he would be there for me. He rolled over, looked deep into my eyes, and said, 'John, I would bend over forward for you . . . you just ask . . . and I will deliver. Or you can deliver. Or we can take turns delivering.' That's the kind of guy Joe is," McCain continued, "a real stand-up guy. Unless you want him to kneel or lie down . . . or roll over and pant."
Yes, love. That could be it.
Monday, September 1, 2008
God is upset with the Republicans
Hurricane Gustav has put a serious kink in the Party of the Wealthy's plans in St. Paul. What a white bread place to hold your national convention! How appropriate!
To be fair, it's a beautiful area, especially in the non-ice-fishing times of the year. But its Caucasian stronghold symbolism is not lost on people of color . . . nor on the Pachyderm Party faithful.
Taking a cue from the Rove-inspired master magicians who in 2004 transformed John Kerry from a decorated Vietnam vet into a cowardly traitor who supposedly betrayed his fellow vets and his country, the GOP (Gargantuan Opportunity for Patricians) has announced that some of the convention parties will instead be fund-raisers for hurricane relief. How selfless and compassionate!
Of course, you and I know that "compassionate conservative" is an oxymoron. And we all know the moron who made the term popular. (Actually, he's not a moron. I wish he were; he would probably be less dangerous.)
But the party of economically bankrupt Presidents Dubya Bush and Ronnie Reagan and ethically bankrupt Tricky Dick Nixon can't escape the all-too-obvious sign from God, delivered by Gustav, that he/she isn't happy with it. Maybe God is so upset because Republicans claim that God is exclusively on their side . . .
To be fair, it's a beautiful area, especially in the non-ice-fishing times of the year. But its Caucasian stronghold symbolism is not lost on people of color . . . nor on the Pachyderm Party faithful.
Taking a cue from the Rove-inspired master magicians who in 2004 transformed John Kerry from a decorated Vietnam vet into a cowardly traitor who supposedly betrayed his fellow vets and his country, the GOP (Gargantuan Opportunity for Patricians) has announced that some of the convention parties will instead be fund-raisers for hurricane relief. How selfless and compassionate!
Of course, you and I know that "compassionate conservative" is an oxymoron. And we all know the moron who made the term popular. (Actually, he's not a moron. I wish he were; he would probably be less dangerous.)
But the party of economically bankrupt Presidents Dubya Bush and Ronnie Reagan and ethically bankrupt Tricky Dick Nixon can't escape the all-too-obvious sign from God, delivered by Gustav, that he/she isn't happy with it. Maybe God is so upset because Republicans claim that God is exclusively on their side . . .
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Industry bastards declare war on Polar Bear in Alaska
As criminal as it has been over the past eight years, the Bush Administration has not been bad enough for five well-financed and influential industry groups. This week, the American Petroleum Institute, National Association of Manufacturers, U.S. Chamber of Commerce, National Mining Association and American Iron and Steel Institute sued the Bush Interior Department over a rule to protect the polar bear that they say unfairly singles out operations in Alaska for their contribution to global warming.
By this point, you should be saying, "What the hell?" First question: "You mean the Bush Interior Department believes global warming exists?" Second question: "Considering the Bush Interior Department, and all the other departments of this administration, do the bidding of industry at the expense of individuals (except the richest ones), the environment, and the animals God created, how did they slip up this time?" But the biggest question is, "A Bush Administration department is interested in protecting the polar bear?" Well, not really. Only in Alaska, where they want to drill on the Alaska National Wildlife Refuge.
Quoting from the Associated Press article about this development: "The Bush administration has made clear that it did not want the bear to become a tool of environmentalists seeking to regulate gases blamed for global warming. It exempted projects in all states but Alaska from undergoing reviews. The groups call the 'Alaska Gap' unlawful.'"
I only agree with the money-grubbing bastards in the five groups on one thing. Things should not be different for Alaska. No state should be exempted. The rest of the country should be subjected to at least the same requirements as Alaska.
By this point, you should be saying, "What the hell?" First question: "You mean the Bush Interior Department believes global warming exists?" Second question: "Considering the Bush Interior Department, and all the other departments of this administration, do the bidding of industry at the expense of individuals (except the richest ones), the environment, and the animals God created, how did they slip up this time?" But the biggest question is, "A Bush Administration department is interested in protecting the polar bear?" Well, not really. Only in Alaska, where they want to drill on the Alaska National Wildlife Refuge.
Quoting from the Associated Press article about this development: "The Bush administration has made clear that it did not want the bear to become a tool of environmentalists seeking to regulate gases blamed for global warming. It exempted projects in all states but Alaska from undergoing reviews. The groups call the 'Alaska Gap' unlawful.'"
I only agree with the money-grubbing bastards in the five groups on one thing. Things should not be different for Alaska. No state should be exempted. The rest of the country should be subjected to at least the same requirements as Alaska.
Keep your feline babies indoors!
It hurt my heart.
Today, totally by surprise, we were contacted by a neighbor who was trying to find a home for an apparently abandoned cat. He reminded us of our first baby, Kafka, who was black and white like this sweet guy. We decided to give it a try, even though we were concerned that he might never be accepted by our current baby.
First stop - the vet. We have a feline daughter, and it wouldn't do for her to be exposed to any harmful viruses. On the way, my special person drove, and I sat in the back seat with the carrier that contained the new arrival in our lives. We discussed names. None seemed to click. Because he was black and white, my special person said, "We could call him 'Barack.'" Wow! That seemed so great, considering his symbolic coloring, the timing of our finding him - or him finding us - and his warm and friendly but noble bearing.
Bad news. Little Barack had feline AIDS. We couldn't take him back home; he could infect our baby girl or other cats. Our vet was angry that someone would let this beautiful cat run free . . . and this is what happens. The vet offered to board him without charge for two weeks, during which time he would try to connect Barack with someone who didn't have a cat who might adopt him. It's doubtful that will happen. I had bonded with Barack and so had my special person. We stood in the vet's examining room and cried.
I'm furious, and it's a good thing I don't know who the guilty party is. To ignorant people, letting a cat run free may seem like the right thing to do. But they're very susceptible to a lot of potentially fatal injuries and diseases.
Keep your cat(s) indoors. And give her, him or them all the love you can possibly give. Spoil them as much as you possibly can. It's your job.
Today, totally by surprise, we were contacted by a neighbor who was trying to find a home for an apparently abandoned cat. He reminded us of our first baby, Kafka, who was black and white like this sweet guy. We decided to give it a try, even though we were concerned that he might never be accepted by our current baby.
First stop - the vet. We have a feline daughter, and it wouldn't do for her to be exposed to any harmful viruses. On the way, my special person drove, and I sat in the back seat with the carrier that contained the new arrival in our lives. We discussed names. None seemed to click. Because he was black and white, my special person said, "We could call him 'Barack.'" Wow! That seemed so great, considering his symbolic coloring, the timing of our finding him - or him finding us - and his warm and friendly but noble bearing.
Bad news. Little Barack had feline AIDS. We couldn't take him back home; he could infect our baby girl or other cats. Our vet was angry that someone would let this beautiful cat run free . . . and this is what happens. The vet offered to board him without charge for two weeks, during which time he would try to connect Barack with someone who didn't have a cat who might adopt him. It's doubtful that will happen. I had bonded with Barack and so had my special person. We stood in the vet's examining room and cried.
I'm furious, and it's a good thing I don't know who the guilty party is. To ignorant people, letting a cat run free may seem like the right thing to do. But they're very susceptible to a lot of potentially fatal injuries and diseases.
Keep your cat(s) indoors. And give her, him or them all the love you can possibly give. Spoil them as much as you possibly can. It's your job.
The Ice Princess cometh
Cindy McCain . . . the Ice Princess. Dare to look into that laser vision, and you will be flash-frozen and summarily shattered into a billion jagged pieces of crystalline shards.
The Ice Princess' frigid stare will transform the lava from Hawaiian volcanoes into glaciers. This could be good news for the polar bears . . . the one potential positive in a vast ocean of Republican negatives for the environment.
The Ice Princess, shielded from reality by mind-boggling billions of U.S. dollars, shielding the old man too . . . the android former "maverick" who sold his soul to the devil on a convention stage in 2004, and sealed the deal with a kiss. Did he and Bush the Devil lock tongues? Was the Devil's forked tongue plunged down the old man's throat, piercing his ancient larnyx and infecting it with extreme right-wing orthodoxy?
Ask the trophy . . . the silent Ice Princess. She will not tell. She will only stare, her ice-hot laser vision surgically severing your carotid artery.
The Ice Princess' frigid stare will transform the lava from Hawaiian volcanoes into glaciers. This could be good news for the polar bears . . . the one potential positive in a vast ocean of Republican negatives for the environment.
The Ice Princess, shielded from reality by mind-boggling billions of U.S. dollars, shielding the old man too . . . the android former "maverick" who sold his soul to the devil on a convention stage in 2004, and sealed the deal with a kiss. Did he and Bush the Devil lock tongues? Was the Devil's forked tongue plunged down the old man's throat, piercing his ancient larnyx and infecting it with extreme right-wing orthodoxy?
Ask the trophy . . . the silent Ice Princess. She will not tell. She will only stare, her ice-hot laser vision surgically severing your carotid artery.
Friday, August 29, 2008
History and inspiration
"Awesome." It's a word that's used a lot, often without any underlying meaning. Last night, as I witnessed a long-overdue historic event for our country, I was reminded of the true meaning and power of that adjective. Barack's acceptance speech was amazing, inspired AND inspiring, and - yes - AWESOME!
In my lifetime, I don't recall hearing a speech that stirred me more . . . since I watched John Fitzgerald Kennedy speak after taking the oath of office on that cold January day in 1961 ("A new generation . . . Ask not what your country can do for you . . .") and, of course, watched Martin Luther King, Jr. deliver the address Barack invoked last night - perhaps the greatest oratorical tribute to peace and unity ever made, at least in the Western tongue. (My favorite passage: "I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." Amen.)
As awesome as it was, I can't wait to hear Barack's inspirational message upon taking his oath of office as President of the United States. It WILL happen. It HAS to happen. We must MAKE it happen! I feel we're on the brink of losing the social, financial and diplomatic progress that this country has made in my lifetime . . . and we've been taken to that brink in just the last eight years. The neoconservative agents of repression and regression have been hard at work, both within and supported by the George W. Bush Administration, in their systematic plan to turn back these gains. And, incredibly and regrettably, they have been very successful with their relentless "scorched earth" (figuratively and literally) agenda.
I'm sending more money to Barack today, and I'm going to do everything I can to try to persuade everyone I can to vote for him and to influence others to do so. I know some of you must feel as passionately as I do about this, so I'm "preaching to the choir." But I had to get my rush of emotions translated to words as best I could while the fire burned its hottest.
YES, WE CAN!
In my lifetime, I don't recall hearing a speech that stirred me more . . . since I watched John Fitzgerald Kennedy speak after taking the oath of office on that cold January day in 1961 ("A new generation . . . Ask not what your country can do for you . . .") and, of course, watched Martin Luther King, Jr. deliver the address Barack invoked last night - perhaps the greatest oratorical tribute to peace and unity ever made, at least in the Western tongue. (My favorite passage: "I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." Amen.)
As awesome as it was, I can't wait to hear Barack's inspirational message upon taking his oath of office as President of the United States. It WILL happen. It HAS to happen. We must MAKE it happen! I feel we're on the brink of losing the social, financial and diplomatic progress that this country has made in my lifetime . . . and we've been taken to that brink in just the last eight years. The neoconservative agents of repression and regression have been hard at work, both within and supported by the George W. Bush Administration, in their systematic plan to turn back these gains. And, incredibly and regrettably, they have been very successful with their relentless "scorched earth" (figuratively and literally) agenda.
I'm sending more money to Barack today, and I'm going to do everything I can to try to persuade everyone I can to vote for him and to influence others to do so. I know some of you must feel as passionately as I do about this, so I'm "preaching to the choir." But I had to get my rush of emotions translated to words as best I could while the fire burned its hottest.
YES, WE CAN!
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