As is often the case, sometimes the most artful essay cannot capture the pure essence of someone better than they can do it just by speaking in their own words.
Barbara Bush: "What I'm hearing which is sort of scary is that they all want to stay in Texas. Everybody is so overwhelmed by the hospitality.
And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway so this (chuckle) -- this is working very well for them."
There you have it: yet another shining example of good Christian values.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Saturday, September 10, 2005
DROWNED GOVERNMENT
Well, everything is going right along just fine, so our President tells us, and New Orleans is washed away. Gone. . . .
A lot of the washing away, the drownings, the murders and rapes and hundreds of thousands of people losing their homes, their jobs, and everything they ever had in this world, happened while Bush was vacationing or was off on another fund raiser.
Now, that the news cameras are rolling day after day, now that some of the water has finally receded enough so he can comfortably stand on dry land without sinking up to his gills, or getting too much mud (or shit) on his trouser cuffs, now he has finally got himself down there, insinuating himself into the picture, as he goes from one black person to another giving each one a big fatherly hug.
He looks a little out of place. He doesn’t make a very good Franklin Roosevelt or even a passable imitation of Huey Long. Didn’t Bush cut off the funding that was going to repair and reinforce the levees that broke in this storm and caused all these people he’s now hugging to his bosom to be homeless? I read somewhere the amount of money he cut would pay for about seven and a half minutes of his war in Iraq.
In light of all this excess water, and the tardiness of our government in responding to this catastrophe, I can’t help but recall something Bush’s bosom buddy, Grover Norquist, said awhile back. Let me see—what was it? Oh, yes, it comes to me, now: he said he wanted to shrink government down to the size where you could "drown it in the bathtub.”
Now, Norquist is in charge of some group calls itself the "Leave Me Alone Coalition." This bunch consists of a certain type, what Norquist calls the “ideal citizen”--a homeschooling, gun-toting sort of guy “who doesn’t need the goddamn government for anything.” Well, I guess this is what you get when you vote for no government--literally, a drowned city.
Mr. Norquist might be happy about this, I don’t know. But it doesn’t look like it’s doing Mr. Bush much good lately. It’s sort of funny. But it looks like he’s finally getting his ass kicked. And who’s doing the ass-kicking? Anybody from Congress? No. Certainly no one from the Democratic side of the aisle.
The Democrats are done. Stick a fork in ‘em. New Orleans is gone and the Democratic Party has blown away, carried off in the breeze like so much thistledust. What remains are people like Hillary Clinton, John Kerry, and all the other members of the Club known as the Democratic Leadership Council. Go ahead, get a good look at these specimens. THESE ARE REPUBLICANS, my friends. Make no mistake. There's not enough cartilage between them to make one good spine. Not only are they for the war and the corporations, they’re for even more misadventures in the Middle East.
As for the rest of them, the rank and file Democrats, where are they on Bush’s Supreme Court nominee, John Roberts? Nowhere. Where are they on torture at Abu Ghraib? Where are they on the Downing Street Memos? Cindy Sheehan was at Camp Casey for over two weeks. Joan Baez showed up. Martin Sheen Showed up. The National media showed up. People came from all over the country and the world. But where were the Congressional Democrats that should have been standing beside her? Nowhere.
So, who’s kicking Bush’s ass, now?
It’s the mothers. The mothers of this country. Beginning with Cindy Sheehan. Followed by more and more mothers of fallen soldiers. They are coming from everywhere, from small towns and big towns, from all walks of life. They are trailing him, dogging his steps, like the ghosts of Christmases Past. From the camps in Crawford to Washington, D.C.
Something tells me they’re not going to quit. All the right-wing smear campaigns don’t seem to be working against the mothers of sons and daughters who have served their country well, sacrificing their lives for a pack of lies. The petty insults and smears seem to have no effect on them. On the other hand, they show in bold relief the pure meanness of the right that spews out such venom.
Now, there's yet one more to add to the list of mothers that are hounding the President. Mother Nature, her own self--Hurricane Katrina. It seems that Cindy and Katrina have caught the cross-eyed President unawares. I’m sure it was the last thing he expected. People who think they can run the world probably believe that nothing is as powerful as they are, with all their corporations and armies and vast weapons to back them up. In their hubris, not only are they apt to shirk off a fierce tropical storm; they may even underestimate the ferocity of a mother’s love.
Good luck, George. I don't think these moms will blow away quite as easily as Congressional Democrats. Let's face it--they're made of better stuff.
A lot of the washing away, the drownings, the murders and rapes and hundreds of thousands of people losing their homes, their jobs, and everything they ever had in this world, happened while Bush was vacationing or was off on another fund raiser.
Now, that the news cameras are rolling day after day, now that some of the water has finally receded enough so he can comfortably stand on dry land without sinking up to his gills, or getting too much mud (or shit) on his trouser cuffs, now he has finally got himself down there, insinuating himself into the picture, as he goes from one black person to another giving each one a big fatherly hug.
He looks a little out of place. He doesn’t make a very good Franklin Roosevelt or even a passable imitation of Huey Long. Didn’t Bush cut off the funding that was going to repair and reinforce the levees that broke in this storm and caused all these people he’s now hugging to his bosom to be homeless? I read somewhere the amount of money he cut would pay for about seven and a half minutes of his war in Iraq.
In light of all this excess water, and the tardiness of our government in responding to this catastrophe, I can’t help but recall something Bush’s bosom buddy, Grover Norquist, said awhile back. Let me see—what was it? Oh, yes, it comes to me, now: he said he wanted to shrink government down to the size where you could "drown it in the bathtub.”
Now, Norquist is in charge of some group calls itself the "Leave Me Alone Coalition." This bunch consists of a certain type, what Norquist calls the “ideal citizen”--a homeschooling, gun-toting sort of guy “who doesn’t need the goddamn government for anything.” Well, I guess this is what you get when you vote for no government--literally, a drowned city.
Mr. Norquist might be happy about this, I don’t know. But it doesn’t look like it’s doing Mr. Bush much good lately. It’s sort of funny. But it looks like he’s finally getting his ass kicked. And who’s doing the ass-kicking? Anybody from Congress? No. Certainly no one from the Democratic side of the aisle.
The Democrats are done. Stick a fork in ‘em. New Orleans is gone and the Democratic Party has blown away, carried off in the breeze like so much thistledust. What remains are people like Hillary Clinton, John Kerry, and all the other members of the Club known as the Democratic Leadership Council. Go ahead, get a good look at these specimens. THESE ARE REPUBLICANS, my friends. Make no mistake. There's not enough cartilage between them to make one good spine. Not only are they for the war and the corporations, they’re for even more misadventures in the Middle East.
As for the rest of them, the rank and file Democrats, where are they on Bush’s Supreme Court nominee, John Roberts? Nowhere. Where are they on torture at Abu Ghraib? Where are they on the Downing Street Memos? Cindy Sheehan was at Camp Casey for over two weeks. Joan Baez showed up. Martin Sheen Showed up. The National media showed up. People came from all over the country and the world. But where were the Congressional Democrats that should have been standing beside her? Nowhere.
So, who’s kicking Bush’s ass, now?
It’s the mothers. The mothers of this country. Beginning with Cindy Sheehan. Followed by more and more mothers of fallen soldiers. They are coming from everywhere, from small towns and big towns, from all walks of life. They are trailing him, dogging his steps, like the ghosts of Christmases Past. From the camps in Crawford to Washington, D.C.
Something tells me they’re not going to quit. All the right-wing smear campaigns don’t seem to be working against the mothers of sons and daughters who have served their country well, sacrificing their lives for a pack of lies. The petty insults and smears seem to have no effect on them. On the other hand, they show in bold relief the pure meanness of the right that spews out such venom.
Now, there's yet one more to add to the list of mothers that are hounding the President. Mother Nature, her own self--Hurricane Katrina. It seems that Cindy and Katrina have caught the cross-eyed President unawares. I’m sure it was the last thing he expected. People who think they can run the world probably believe that nothing is as powerful as they are, with all their corporations and armies and vast weapons to back them up. In their hubris, not only are they apt to shirk off a fierce tropical storm; they may even underestimate the ferocity of a mother’s love.
Good luck, George. I don't think these moms will blow away quite as easily as Congressional Democrats. Let's face it--they're made of better stuff.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
WE SHALL OVERCOME TODAY
THOLOS EXCLUSIVE
Camp Casey II, Crawford, Texas
Saturday, August 27, 2005
The summer day was almost too hot to bear. Its August sun bore down on the huge tent at Camp Casey II, where people gathered in heat that was 100 degrees, and perhaps more. Cindy Sheehan's supporters arrived by chartered bus from Dallas, San Antonio, and Austin; and as they stepped down from the bus, they were given a hand of applause by many who stood in the midday sun to greet them. Others flew into Texas from distant parts of the nation or drove long distances to be in Crawford. One protest group from Ithaca, New York, had raised $10,000 and sent 31 members to be present at Camp Casey.
On the 27th, it was an honor to witness more history being made, just down the road from President Bush's ranch. Cindy Sheehan was there, in person, surrounded by what this writer would estimate to be 1,200 supporters. Cindy has kept faith with her son, Casey, who was killed in Baghdad, 15 months ago; and it's only been a matter of three weeks, since she rallied a protest movement that clearly defines Bush's war as immoral, and calls for a halt to pointless deaths.
Saturday's event attracted veterans' organizations, as well as many of Cindy's Gold Star parents who set up their tents at the original Camp Casey. Gathering at the larger camp were clergy, lots of fine musicians, bloggers and other writers, camera people, and many volunteers who maintained supplies of water, ice, and seemed to prepare food around the clock. The dedicated time, effort, and donations of many responsible people were in evidence everywhere.
Though exhausted by the heat, Saturday's crowd could not forget the memorial of white crosses and empty boots that were always part of this event. And when Cindy Sheehan stood on the stage, flanked by other grieving mothers and fathers, and also by Joan Baez and her guitar, the audience was completely absorbed in the moment. Their music continued to swell and surge, through the chorus of an old tune, associated with America's Civil Rights movement. This tune "We Shall Overcome" was one that Cindy Sheehan sang with passion, and the crowd might as well have been in church. "We... shall overcome,.. today " those onstage sang, and the crowd sang along, tenderly. The old lyric was "We shall overcome...someday"; but changing it to "We shall overcome...today" seemed to fit the occasion.
Cindy's speech followed a short time later; and she told her audience that the pointless deaths of American soldiers must end. The President would still not meet with this grieving mother; and with sadness, she explained that having spilled the blood of young American troops in Iraq, the President felt empowered to spill even more blood. She acknowledged that August 31st marked the end of the President's "vacation", and that she would feel some loss in leaving Texas behind. She wanted Americans to know that her time spent in Crawford is only the beginning; and it's important to take this protest to Washington DC next; and she believes Camp Casey and the meaning of Camp Casey will come with her.
A few hours later, the sun was starting to edge toward the horizon, and a dark squall line began to bear down on the camp. Very quickly the temperature dropped, and wind began to whip across the flat pasture in a menacing way. This unanswerable, raw power of nature sometimes proves more frightening than anything we can imagine. Someone took the microphone and advised the crowd to avoid the place where they were standing, under the steel masts of the pavilion tent, while lightning began to rapidly approach. Here, beneath the suddenly uncertain sky, was the tangled net of so many of our human choices, a breathtaking proof of our human frailty, and the temporary, provisional space we occupy.
Rabindranath Tagore has said "Where danger is near, so also is salvation."
In this way, conscience also ebbs and rises on the tides of American history. But the sonority and wholeness of that conscience has rarely been so beautiful or as necessary to us, as it has proved to be at Camp Casey.
Camp Casey II, Crawford, Texas
Saturday, August 27, 2005
The summer day was almost too hot to bear. Its August sun bore down on the huge tent at Camp Casey II, where people gathered in heat that was 100 degrees, and perhaps more. Cindy Sheehan's supporters arrived by chartered bus from Dallas, San Antonio, and Austin; and as they stepped down from the bus, they were given a hand of applause by many who stood in the midday sun to greet them. Others flew into Texas from distant parts of the nation or drove long distances to be in Crawford. One protest group from Ithaca, New York, had raised $10,000 and sent 31 members to be present at Camp Casey.
On the 27th, it was an honor to witness more history being made, just down the road from President Bush's ranch. Cindy Sheehan was there, in person, surrounded by what this writer would estimate to be 1,200 supporters. Cindy has kept faith with her son, Casey, who was killed in Baghdad, 15 months ago; and it's only been a matter of three weeks, since she rallied a protest movement that clearly defines Bush's war as immoral, and calls for a halt to pointless deaths.
Saturday's event attracted veterans' organizations, as well as many of Cindy's Gold Star parents who set up their tents at the original Camp Casey. Gathering at the larger camp were clergy, lots of fine musicians, bloggers and other writers, camera people, and many volunteers who maintained supplies of water, ice, and seemed to prepare food around the clock. The dedicated time, effort, and donations of many responsible people were in evidence everywhere.
Though exhausted by the heat, Saturday's crowd could not forget the memorial of white crosses and empty boots that were always part of this event. And when Cindy Sheehan stood on the stage, flanked by other grieving mothers and fathers, and also by Joan Baez and her guitar, the audience was completely absorbed in the moment. Their music continued to swell and surge, through the chorus of an old tune, associated with America's Civil Rights movement. This tune "We Shall Overcome" was one that Cindy Sheehan sang with passion, and the crowd might as well have been in church. "We... shall overcome,.. today " those onstage sang, and the crowd sang along, tenderly. The old lyric was "We shall overcome...someday"; but changing it to "We shall overcome...today" seemed to fit the occasion.
Cindy's speech followed a short time later; and she told her audience that the pointless deaths of American soldiers must end. The President would still not meet with this grieving mother; and with sadness, she explained that having spilled the blood of young American troops in Iraq, the President felt empowered to spill even more blood. She acknowledged that August 31st marked the end of the President's "vacation", and that she would feel some loss in leaving Texas behind. She wanted Americans to know that her time spent in Crawford is only the beginning; and it's important to take this protest to Washington DC next; and she believes Camp Casey and the meaning of Camp Casey will come with her.
A few hours later, the sun was starting to edge toward the horizon, and a dark squall line began to bear down on the camp. Very quickly the temperature dropped, and wind began to whip across the flat pasture in a menacing way. This unanswerable, raw power of nature sometimes proves more frightening than anything we can imagine. Someone took the microphone and advised the crowd to avoid the place where they were standing, under the steel masts of the pavilion tent, while lightning began to rapidly approach. Here, beneath the suddenly uncertain sky, was the tangled net of so many of our human choices, a breathtaking proof of our human frailty, and the temporary, provisional space we occupy.
Rabindranath Tagore has said "Where danger is near, so also is salvation."
In this way, conscience also ebbs and rises on the tides of American history. But the sonority and wholeness of that conscience has rarely been so beautiful or as necessary to us, as it has proved to be at Camp Casey.
Monday, August 22, 2005
THE MUSIC INSIDE US AT CAMP CASEY
THOLOS EXCLUSIVE
Camp Casey II, Crawford Texas
Saturday, August 20, 2005
The crowd drifted slowly out as evening fell, emerging from under the huge pavilion tent, and its steep. canvas spires. The dark indigo of night seemed to flatten down strands of pink against the horizon. The playing of taps had been announced, and the crowd anticipating it was quiet. Through the afternoon, others had been bending down, fitting white crosses, 200 of which filled an apron of pasture between the tent and the road.
The people, the whole congregation standing there, would not have been waiting as they were, without the initiative of one woman, Cindy Sheehan, whose son Casey was killed in Iraq, 15 months ago. This mother touched the conscience of the nation, starting a couple of weeks ago, as she reminded Americans of the lies told by President Bush, which led to war. She began by camping out along the edge of a narrow road, near the President's ranch. But Cindy's cause is the cause of many mothers who are camped out there.--even if Cindy herself has had to abandon her spot temporarily, owing to the serious illness of her mother.
But as night gathered at Camp Casey II, what was best expressed, was the solidarity of people's eyes, as they searched around the margin of those white crosses, for the trumpeter who would sound taps--a man whose silence lingered, as his name was called. The man paused to hear the notes sound in his head, waiting for the music to come into him. The spirit that Cindy Sheehan had personified was something real to those who patiently stood there. Gold Star mothers were present, whose sons or daughters had been killed in Bush's war.
A 71 year old black woman from New York heard the echo of taps fade; and she received encouragement from a kind hand on her shoulder. She struggled with the words of a hymn, but began to sing; and it must have been that she was weeping over a grandchild. Faltering for a moment, she finished the last refrain; and at the end her voice was strong, "Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me".
The crowd returned to the tent for music and supportive speeches; but that timeless moment, under the relentless indigo of dusk would persist inside them. Speakers would remind them that this anti-war movement has truly begun. But reflecting on what they had just witnessed, they seemed to know already that this is its real beginning.
Camp Casey II, Crawford Texas
Saturday, August 20, 2005
The crowd drifted slowly out as evening fell, emerging from under the huge pavilion tent, and its steep. canvas spires. The dark indigo of night seemed to flatten down strands of pink against the horizon. The playing of taps had been announced, and the crowd anticipating it was quiet. Through the afternoon, others had been bending down, fitting white crosses, 200 of which filled an apron of pasture between the tent and the road.
The people, the whole congregation standing there, would not have been waiting as they were, without the initiative of one woman, Cindy Sheehan, whose son Casey was killed in Iraq, 15 months ago. This mother touched the conscience of the nation, starting a couple of weeks ago, as she reminded Americans of the lies told by President Bush, which led to war. She began by camping out along the edge of a narrow road, near the President's ranch. But Cindy's cause is the cause of many mothers who are camped out there.--even if Cindy herself has had to abandon her spot temporarily, owing to the serious illness of her mother.
But as night gathered at Camp Casey II, what was best expressed, was the solidarity of people's eyes, as they searched around the margin of those white crosses, for the trumpeter who would sound taps--a man whose silence lingered, as his name was called. The man paused to hear the notes sound in his head, waiting for the music to come into him. The spirit that Cindy Sheehan had personified was something real to those who patiently stood there. Gold Star mothers were present, whose sons or daughters had been killed in Bush's war.
A 71 year old black woman from New York heard the echo of taps fade; and she received encouragement from a kind hand on her shoulder. She struggled with the words of a hymn, but began to sing; and it must have been that she was weeping over a grandchild. Faltering for a moment, she finished the last refrain; and at the end her voice was strong, "Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me".
The crowd returned to the tent for music and supportive speeches; but that timeless moment, under the relentless indigo of dusk would persist inside them. Speakers would remind them that this anti-war movement has truly begun. But reflecting on what they had just witnessed, they seemed to know already that this is its real beginning.
Friday, August 19, 2005
A MESSAGE TO THE CRAWFORD MEMORIAL VANDAL
On Monday night, a vandal in a pickup truck ran over
hundreds of small white crosses that had been installed in
Crawford, Texas as a simple memorial to the Troops killed in
Iraq. The vandal, who police say is Waco resident Larry
Northern, was soon arrested, and OpTruth's Perry Jefferies
managed to find his e-mail address. Here's what he had to
say:
Mr. Northern:
I am a Veteran of the Iraq war, having served with the 4th
Infantry Division on the initial invasion with Force Package
One.
While I was in Iraq,a very good friend of mine, Christopher
Cutchall,was killed in an unarmoredHMMWV outside of Baghdad.
He was a cavalry scout serving with the 3d ID.Once he had
declined the award of a medal because Soldiers assigned to
him did not receive similar awards that he had recommended.
He left two sons and awonderful wife. On Monday night,
August 16, you ran down the memorial cross erected for him
by Arlington West.
One of my Soldiers in Iraq was Roger Turner. We gave him a
hard time because he always wore all of his protective
equipment, including three pairs of glasses or goggles. He
did this because he wanted to make sure that he returned
home to his family. He rode a bicycle to work every day to
make sure that he was able to save enough money on his Army
salary to send his son to college. At Camp Anaconda, where
the squadron briefly stayed, a rocket landed inside a tent,
sending a piece of debris or fragment into him and killed
him. On Monday night, August 16, you ran down the memorial
cross erected for him by Arlington West.
One of my Soldiers was Henry Bacon. He was one of the finest
men I ever met. He was in perfect shape for a man over
forty, working hard at night. He told me that he did that
because he didn't have much money to buy nice things for his
wife, who he loved so much, so he had to be in good shape
for her. He was like a father to many young men in his
section of maintenance mechanics. They fixed our vehicles
with almost no support and fabricated parts and made repairs
that kept our squadron rolling on the longest, fastest armor
advance ever made under fire. He was so very proud of his
son-in-law that married the beautiful daughter so well
raised by Henry. His son-in-law was a helicopter pilot with
the 1st Cavalry Division, who died last year. Henry stopped
to rescue a vehicle belonging to another unit on what was to
be his last day in Iraq. He could have kept rolling - he was
headed to Kuwait after a year's tour. But he stopped. He
could have sent others to do the work, but he was on the
ground, leading by example, when he was killed. On Monday
night, August 16, you took it upon yourself to go out in the
country, where a peaceful group was exercising their
constitutional rights, and harming no one, and you ran down
the memorial cross erected for Henry and for his son-in-law
by Arlington West.
Mr. Northern - I know little about Cindy Sheehan except that
she is a grieving mother, a gentle soul, and wants to bring
harm to no one. I know little about you except that you
found your way to Crawford on Monday night in August with
chains and a pipe attached to your truck for the sole
purpose of dishonoring a memorial erected for my friends and
lost Soldiers and hundreds of others that served this nation
when they were called. I find it disheartening that good men
like these have died so that people like you can threaten a
mother who lost a child with your actions. I hope that you
are ashamed of yourself.
Perry Jefferies, First Sergeant, USA (retired)
hundreds of small white crosses that had been installed in
Crawford, Texas as a simple memorial to the Troops killed in
Iraq. The vandal, who police say is Waco resident Larry
Northern, was soon arrested, and OpTruth's Perry Jefferies
managed to find his e-mail address. Here's what he had to
say:
Mr. Northern:
I am a Veteran of the Iraq war, having served with the 4th
Infantry Division on the initial invasion with Force Package
One.
While I was in Iraq,a very good friend of mine, Christopher
Cutchall,was killed in an unarmoredHMMWV outside of Baghdad.
He was a cavalry scout serving with the 3d ID.Once he had
declined the award of a medal because Soldiers assigned to
him did not receive similar awards that he had recommended.
He left two sons and awonderful wife. On Monday night,
August 16, you ran down the memorial cross erected for him
by Arlington West.
One of my Soldiers in Iraq was Roger Turner. We gave him a
hard time because he always wore all of his protective
equipment, including three pairs of glasses or goggles. He
did this because he wanted to make sure that he returned
home to his family. He rode a bicycle to work every day to
make sure that he was able to save enough money on his Army
salary to send his son to college. At Camp Anaconda, where
the squadron briefly stayed, a rocket landed inside a tent,
sending a piece of debris or fragment into him and killed
him. On Monday night, August 16, you ran down the memorial
cross erected for him by Arlington West.
One of my Soldiers was Henry Bacon. He was one of the finest
men I ever met. He was in perfect shape for a man over
forty, working hard at night. He told me that he did that
because he didn't have much money to buy nice things for his
wife, who he loved so much, so he had to be in good shape
for her. He was like a father to many young men in his
section of maintenance mechanics. They fixed our vehicles
with almost no support and fabricated parts and made repairs
that kept our squadron rolling on the longest, fastest armor
advance ever made under fire. He was so very proud of his
son-in-law that married the beautiful daughter so well
raised by Henry. His son-in-law was a helicopter pilot with
the 1st Cavalry Division, who died last year. Henry stopped
to rescue a vehicle belonging to another unit on what was to
be his last day in Iraq. He could have kept rolling - he was
headed to Kuwait after a year's tour. But he stopped. He
could have sent others to do the work, but he was on the
ground, leading by example, when he was killed. On Monday
night, August 16, you took it upon yourself to go out in the
country, where a peaceful group was exercising their
constitutional rights, and harming no one, and you ran down
the memorial cross erected for Henry and for his son-in-law
by Arlington West.
Mr. Northern - I know little about Cindy Sheehan except that
she is a grieving mother, a gentle soul, and wants to bring
harm to no one. I know little about you except that you
found your way to Crawford on Monday night in August with
chains and a pipe attached to your truck for the sole
purpose of dishonoring a memorial erected for my friends and
lost Soldiers and hundreds of others that served this nation
when they were called. I find it disheartening that good men
like these have died so that people like you can threaten a
mother who lost a child with your actions. I hope that you
are ashamed of yourself.
Perry Jefferies, First Sergeant, USA (retired)
Saturday, August 13, 2005
CINDY SHEEHAN CONFRONTS THE BIG EMPTY
Photo: Nathan Diebenow, The Lone Star Iconoclast
"Why do the right wing media so assiduously scrutinize the words of a grief filled mother and ignore the words of a lying president?" --Cindy SheehanCindy Sheehan's son, Casey, was killed five days after arriving in Baghdad in April 2004. She was later invited to Washington for a private meeting with the President, in the company of other bereaved families. But George W's attitude and tone shocked her."Instead of a kind gesture or a warm handshake, Sheehan said she immediately got a taste of Bush arrogance when he entered the room and "in a condescending tone and with a disgusting loud Texas accent" said: "Who we'all honorin' today?"
"[Bush's] mouth kept moving, but there was nothing in his eyes or anything else about him that showed me he really cared or had any real compassion at all. This is a human being totally disconnected from humanity and reality. His eyes were empty, hollow shells and he was acting like I should be proud to just be in his presence when it was my son who died for his illegal war! It was one of the most disgusting experiences I ever had and it took me almost a year to even talk about it." (LewisNews)It's one year later; and although the war news is worse, the President is taking an extended vacation in Texas.
Bush and his best minds pondered whether to arrest Cindy, as she camped out near his Crawford ranch this week, still adamant about seeing George. Empty suits were toying with the idea of locking her up as a "national security threat". Instead, the President was pointed toward the microphones, so he could respectfully disagree with her criticism, and politely wash his hands of the protesting mother.
The Bush propaganda war is in place all the time. His talk about the "nobility" of the cause, contains no clue as to what that might mean. The republican creed of party above country, the blundering, the profiteering, the lies: these are all the contributing factors that have led to the violent death of thousands, and among them, 24 year old Casey Sheehan.
One group of day-tripping right-wingers arrived recently at Sheehan's Crawford encampment with the moronic chant of "We don't care. We don't care".
This message comes to us today from Cindy Sheehan at Crawford, Texas, courtesy of Peace in Pink Shoes:
"I am a continued thorn in the side to the right-wing bloggers and right wing-nut "journalists." One man, Phil Hendry called me an "ignorant cow." But you know what, the people who have come out from all over the country to give me a hug and take a picture with me and to support the cause of peace, overwhelms me so much, I don't have time to worry about the negativity and the hatred. The people who are slamming me have no idea about what it feels like to unjustly have a child killed in an insane war. Plus, they have no truth to fight truth with, so they fight truth with more lies and hate."Cindy Sheehan's contest with Bush and his hollow men, somehow brings to mind what Norman Mailer said, during an interview last summer. He commented on the corrupt nature of corporate power and those who accommodate that power in America. Our corporations "tend to flatten everything" he said, "They are the Big Empty".
"Three active duty soldiers from Ft. Hood came to visit me and tell me that they really appreciated what I was doing and that if they were killed in the war, their moms would be doing the same thing. That made me feel so good after all of the negativity I had been hearing from the righties. I also got to hold a couple of toddlers on my lap while their mom or dad took pictures of us. I am honored that people have resonated with the action that I took to make our mission of ending the war a reality."
"You could see [in contrast to authentic people] all the faces of the present administration, those empty faces, those handmaidens and bodyguards of the Big Empty." --Norman Mailer
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
DIARY OF A RAG AND BONE MAN
(Further Adventures Of A Homeless Man and His Dog)
"OUTSIDERS"
By Jack Rafter
Dear Mr. Mogli,
Since the warm weather came in, Vincent and I have been staying in the tent in our little strip of woods near the freight yards. For some reason, the tramps down there have taken to calling it “Sherwood Forest,” though it’s just a ribbon of scrub oak and brush caught between the bike path on one side and the track line on the other. Beyond the freight yards is a two-lane black top. I haven’t seen any Robin Hoods or “Merry Men” running around in those woods. No Maid Marions, either. Folks down there are pretty shabby looking, for the most part, including. . .yours, truly.
Still, it’s a thriving little community we have here, though we’re all but invisible to the Outsiders. (And I use the term "thriving" somewhat loosely, of course.) Outsiders, by the way, are people who still live in houses and have jobs and cars and TV’s and cell phones, and so on. I used to have all those things. I was once an Outsider. Then, my job got moved out of the country. Now, a Chinaman does my job for about a tenth of the pay. In the language of NAFTA, this is progress. Three cheers for progress!
Early in the morning and late in the evening, the joggers and the bikers streak by on the bike path. We can see them through the trees as they flash by in a blur, a swish of white Nike running shoe, a blinding beam from a red or blue bike helmet. But they do not see us. We are just shadows in the trees, sparrows rooting around in the leaves. And on the other side of Sherwood Forest, the trains rumble by all day.
Lately, we’ve noticed an increase in the number of people trying to move into the “forest.” None of us who live here are surprised at the increase. Sure, some of us are crazy, I guess, but a lot of us are perfectly sane and aware of what’s going on. We read the papers. We keep up with current events. We hold meetings in our woods. We have little “round table” discussions in our campsites, like the knights of old.
Yes, we're a tattered tribe of knights. But we can still see and hear and think. We read how all the jobs are leaving the country, how the government and the corporations are one and the same. We notice that more and more people can’t afford to run air conditioners in the summer or gas heaters in the winter, they can’t pay their utility bills or their childrens’ dental bills, they let their house insurance lapse, they miss a mortgage payment, they fail to pay their property tax; and finally, the banks gobble up their homes. That, in brief, is what happened to me.
There are some in Sherwood Forest who believe that virtually everyone in America, except the rich, will be homeless one day. Sounds crazy, I know, but it’s true, they really believe it. The question then will be whether or not the poor will still be blamed for being poor.
Of course, for years, it has been the middle class, as much as the rich, who has blamed them. They spent years buying into the false morality that Welfare or anything that remotely smacked of “Socialism” was somehow evil. Even to the point where many of them would actually support a president who would disgorge all the money from their Social Security retirement plans and hand it over to Wall Street brokers.
They were a people who didn’t read, who had no awareness of history. In that way, their president was just like them. He was them. He could tell them anything and they would believe it. It was like spoon-feeding little children. They didn’t know that Social Security was a visionary program brought into being long ago by a president named Roosevelt.
Franklin Roosevelt was a man who thought that everyone— especially the poor—should have some form of income when they reached old age. Franklin Roosevelt thought that “promoting the general welfare”—or “well-being”--of the citizenry, was a perfectly sound, honorable, thing to do.
That is in stark contrast to those who are in power today. Now—perhaps too late—the Middle Class is just beginning to learn what this could mean—that increasingly, they. . .are. . .Them—the Poor. The Shit Upon.
What will they have to say about that, I wonder? Who is left to blame?
"OUTSIDERS"
By Jack Rafter
Dear Mr. Mogli,
Since the warm weather came in, Vincent and I have been staying in the tent in our little strip of woods near the freight yards. For some reason, the tramps down there have taken to calling it “Sherwood Forest,” though it’s just a ribbon of scrub oak and brush caught between the bike path on one side and the track line on the other. Beyond the freight yards is a two-lane black top. I haven’t seen any Robin Hoods or “Merry Men” running around in those woods. No Maid Marions, either. Folks down there are pretty shabby looking, for the most part, including. . .yours, truly.
Still, it’s a thriving little community we have here, though we’re all but invisible to the Outsiders. (And I use the term "thriving" somewhat loosely, of course.) Outsiders, by the way, are people who still live in houses and have jobs and cars and TV’s and cell phones, and so on. I used to have all those things. I was once an Outsider. Then, my job got moved out of the country. Now, a Chinaman does my job for about a tenth of the pay. In the language of NAFTA, this is progress. Three cheers for progress!
Early in the morning and late in the evening, the joggers and the bikers streak by on the bike path. We can see them through the trees as they flash by in a blur, a swish of white Nike running shoe, a blinding beam from a red or blue bike helmet. But they do not see us. We are just shadows in the trees, sparrows rooting around in the leaves. And on the other side of Sherwood Forest, the trains rumble by all day.
Lately, we’ve noticed an increase in the number of people trying to move into the “forest.” None of us who live here are surprised at the increase. Sure, some of us are crazy, I guess, but a lot of us are perfectly sane and aware of what’s going on. We read the papers. We keep up with current events. We hold meetings in our woods. We have little “round table” discussions in our campsites, like the knights of old.
Yes, we're a tattered tribe of knights. But we can still see and hear and think. We read how all the jobs are leaving the country, how the government and the corporations are one and the same. We notice that more and more people can’t afford to run air conditioners in the summer or gas heaters in the winter, they can’t pay their utility bills or their childrens’ dental bills, they let their house insurance lapse, they miss a mortgage payment, they fail to pay their property tax; and finally, the banks gobble up their homes. That, in brief, is what happened to me.
There are some in Sherwood Forest who believe that virtually everyone in America, except the rich, will be homeless one day. Sounds crazy, I know, but it’s true, they really believe it. The question then will be whether or not the poor will still be blamed for being poor.
Of course, for years, it has been the middle class, as much as the rich, who has blamed them. They spent years buying into the false morality that Welfare or anything that remotely smacked of “Socialism” was somehow evil. Even to the point where many of them would actually support a president who would disgorge all the money from their Social Security retirement plans and hand it over to Wall Street brokers.
They were a people who didn’t read, who had no awareness of history. In that way, their president was just like them. He was them. He could tell them anything and they would believe it. It was like spoon-feeding little children. They didn’t know that Social Security was a visionary program brought into being long ago by a president named Roosevelt.
Franklin Roosevelt was a man who thought that everyone— especially the poor—should have some form of income when they reached old age. Franklin Roosevelt thought that “promoting the general welfare”—or “well-being”--of the citizenry, was a perfectly sound, honorable, thing to do.
That is in stark contrast to those who are in power today. Now—perhaps too late—the Middle Class is just beginning to learn what this could mean—that increasingly, they. . .are. . .Them—the Poor. The Shit Upon.
What will they have to say about that, I wonder? Who is left to blame?
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
THE LIZARD'S EYE
What if the eye that Americans look up to, the eye that is lodged at the top of the pyramid, is a lizard's eye? The lust of the eye constitutes whatever reason a reptile has to exist. There is only the eye that moves and the objects which it makes subordinate to itself. Being history's actor, it will simply react to an opportunity or withdraw in fear. It is only concerned about itself.
The last act of republican credulity will likely come during a great public health crisis, while an enraged public is demanding justice; and it will be a bitter outcry, since the lizard and his accomplices have done nothing but reject accountability, from first to last.
Compared to that edifice of republicanism, Calvin Coolidge, George W. Bush is a modern GOP activist. Writer Irving Stone described Coolidge as the absolute minimalist of all presidents, who put in four hour days in the Oval Office, and spent most afternoons asleep with his feet up on the desk.
David Brown, writing for the Washington Post, provides these unsettling facts:
No, the soul of republicanism is attached to the idea of waiting. The "market forces" must be in the right alignment. The drug companies will need to see a market incentive, before they can think about cranking up vaccine production or doing a jump-start on research. "The business of America is business."
But even at this deplorable junction of history, it can't be right to give up on popular government. Perhaps if we keep shouting in unison, one or several of the engineers will pull the brakes on this runaway train. None of us alive now, wants to be twitching out of the depths of the reptilian brain, or blinking out of the lizard's eye. Over millions of years there have been some improvements; and now we share the same customs, laws and medicine,--and breathe the same contagious air--if it should come to that. Before we condemn another generation to years of suspicion, aggression, and selfishness, we need to see if we can revive public service and conserve something more important than profit.
Government has yet to counsel the public on this issue. And if the right questions haven't been posed, now would be a good time to ask.
The last act of republican credulity will likely come during a great public health crisis, while an enraged public is demanding justice; and it will be a bitter outcry, since the lizard and his accomplices have done nothing but reject accountability, from first to last.
Compared to that edifice of republicanism, Calvin Coolidge, George W. Bush is a modern GOP activist. Writer Irving Stone described Coolidge as the absolute minimalist of all presidents, who put in four hour days in the Oval Office, and spent most afternoons asleep with his feet up on the desk.
"On the afternoon of the day that Treasury Department officials laid on Calvin Coolidge's desk the documented case for immediate and drastic control of the investment market, and he turned them away, defeated by his icy silence, he went down to the basement of the White House to count the number of apples in a barrel sent to him by a friend from Vermont."
"While Rome burned, Nero at least made music. But President Coolidge counted apples."President Coolidge famously said "The business of America is business." And for him laissez faire was a guiding light; change was a repellent concept. Borrowing money to risk in the stock market was actually good for business, he thought. And a great many ordinary Americans were doing just that. From 1927 until the market crash of 1929 (the year after Coolidge left office), a devastating "domino effect" was in process of playing out.
"Family savings were being poured into local banks. Local banks poured their funds into Wall Street"..."The savings of the nation having been absorbed by Wall Street, the people were persuaded to borrow money on their farms, factories, homes, machinery, and every other tangible asset, that they might earn high interest rates and take big profits out of the rise in the stock market. When Wall Street's huge foreign loans and dubious domestic loans were not repaid, America lost not only the cash of its savings but its collateral as well."Reporter Bob Woodward got a candid answer out of our current president, when he asked him how history would judge his war in Iraq. "History, we don't know. We'll all be dead." We hope he didn't mean "We'll all be dead, and soon." The words can also be interpreted to mean that the President is too busy making history to worry about his legacy.
David Brown, writing for the Washington Post, provides these unsettling facts:
"Ironically, for the current H5N1 strain of avian flu to gain "pandemic potential" it will have to become less deadly. Declining lethality is a key sign that the microbe is adapting to human hosts. That is one reason the 34 percent mortality observed in the most recent outbreak--a cluster of cases in northern Vietnam--has scientists worried."..."Such strains are rare. They arise from the chance scrambling of an animal flu virus with a human one."Brown reminds us that the 1918/1919 outbreak was one of the most lethal of these rare strains.
"At least 50 million people, and possibly as many as 100 million, died when the world's population was 1.9 billion, one-third of its current size." (Brown, Washington Post, 7/31/05)It's too bad that we live in a country where the reptilian mindset, known as the "bottom line", takes precedence over the more evolved construct of civic responsibility. Our tears are wasted; but let's belabor the obvious for a moment. We don't have a liberal government that would simply give the pharmaceutical companies their marching orders, and support the effort with subsidies..
No, the soul of republicanism is attached to the idea of waiting. The "market forces" must be in the right alignment. The drug companies will need to see a market incentive, before they can think about cranking up vaccine production or doing a jump-start on research. "The business of America is business."
"...the end of this world-wide vaudeville act, shall be a fool's prat-fall" or so my friend Earl Lewis once wrote, in the jacket of a book he gave me.All this seems to be coming true in the hands of the government that rules us now.
But even at this deplorable junction of history, it can't be right to give up on popular government. Perhaps if we keep shouting in unison, one or several of the engineers will pull the brakes on this runaway train. None of us alive now, wants to be twitching out of the depths of the reptilian brain, or blinking out of the lizard's eye. Over millions of years there have been some improvements; and now we share the same customs, laws and medicine,--and breathe the same contagious air--if it should come to that. Before we condemn another generation to years of suspicion, aggression, and selfishness, we need to see if we can revive public service and conserve something more important than profit.
Government has yet to counsel the public on this issue. And if the right questions haven't been posed, now would be a good time to ask.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
AS VICTORY RETURNS
We are in Iraq as occupiers and it is going badly; but for George W. Bush, what matters is to dazzle the public with wishful thinking. The war is going grandly, according to him. Democracy is on the march; but really, it isn't.
While fewer Americans are tuning into his speeches, many more have stopped listening to their president. People are coming around to the conclusion that Bush's daydream of Iraq bears no resemblance to the real and tragic country itself. Suspicious cash transfers were described in an article for Reuters by Sue Pleming. Americans should be aware that $8.8 billion appropriated for Iraq is simply missing; and no one is being held accountable. Pallets of cash, billions, have been loaded on ships in New York, and handed out to corporate contractors in Iraq in duffel bags. The ground there runs red with Iraqi blood; three American soldiers are killed there every day. In Bush's fixer-upper Iraq, coalition partners don't cut their losses and withdraw their brigades. Raw sewage doesn't run in the streets in his fantasy; there is electricity and water service in the President's Iraq. The occupation isn't pushing the country toward civil war.
Sixty years ago, on "the hotttest of August nights", Albert Camus was watching Paris shoot off all its guns to celebrate liberation. He observed then that greatness doesn't come with conquest; he was sure that it only begins when people themselves resolve to be just. So it must be said that the President's audacity is no example of leadership. He never has inspired us to overcome our unjust condition, which would require that we ourselves be just.
Bush handles applause at fake Town Hall meetings, where born-again republicans are picked-over to assure their partisan purity; but he seems most comfortable speaking at military bases, from Alaska to North Carolina. The President is unchanged, even if his audience has grown more solemn. None of the old confidence has left his voice. He is still the salesman, making a pitch to secure the sacrifices of the soldiers.
This is the President who used the trauma of 9/11, the destruction and death at the World Trade Center, to run his agenda roughshod, over the law, over the truth, and over the bodies of Iraqis; having less body armor for the troops, but with no apparent shortage of happy talk. The President's disinformation machine keeps churning out the same meticulous lies, strung-together phrases, extracted by Bush's marketing experts from focus group experiments.
This superficiality in the face of life and death is an unchanging trait. The cavalier would-be president was head-hunting even then; and Saddam was already in his sights.
Bush brought up New York no less than five times during his speech last June, at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The soldiers were given the cue for one lonely ripple of applause, while their president failed to answer the nation's concerns. Over and over again, Bush put together the same confounded story, as he linked Iraq and Saddam Hussein with September 11. As he was about to wind it up, with one final reference to September 11, the President couldn't resist a plea for new recruits. Awkward and a bit pathetic, the remark could be easily confused with some kind of grim, gallows humor, a parody of his performance.
While fewer Americans are tuning into his speeches, many more have stopped listening to their president. People are coming around to the conclusion that Bush's daydream of Iraq bears no resemblance to the real and tragic country itself. Suspicious cash transfers were described in an article for Reuters by Sue Pleming. Americans should be aware that $8.8 billion appropriated for Iraq is simply missing; and no one is being held accountable. Pallets of cash, billions, have been loaded on ships in New York, and handed out to corporate contractors in Iraq in duffel bags. The ground there runs red with Iraqi blood; three American soldiers are killed there every day. In Bush's fixer-upper Iraq, coalition partners don't cut their losses and withdraw their brigades. Raw sewage doesn't run in the streets in his fantasy; there is electricity and water service in the President's Iraq. The occupation isn't pushing the country toward civil war.
Sixty years ago, on "the hotttest of August nights", Albert Camus was watching Paris shoot off all its guns to celebrate liberation. He observed then that greatness doesn't come with conquest; he was sure that it only begins when people themselves resolve to be just. So it must be said that the President's audacity is no example of leadership. He never has inspired us to overcome our unjust condition, which would require that we ourselves be just.
Bush handles applause at fake Town Hall meetings, where born-again republicans are picked-over to assure their partisan purity; but he seems most comfortable speaking at military bases, from Alaska to North Carolina. The President is unchanged, even if his audience has grown more solemn. None of the old confidence has left his voice. He is still the salesman, making a pitch to secure the sacrifices of the soldiers.
This is the President who used the trauma of 9/11, the destruction and death at the World Trade Center, to run his agenda roughshod, over the law, over the truth, and over the bodies of Iraqis; having less body armor for the troops, but with no apparent shortage of happy talk. The President's disinformation machine keeps churning out the same meticulous lies, strung-together phrases, extracted by Bush's marketing experts from focus group experiments.
"The terrorists who attacked us and the terrorists we face"..."The same murderous ideology that took the lives of our citizens in New York"...David Nyhan covered the December 1999 New Hampshire primaries for the Boston Globe. "It was a gaffe-free evening" for the "rookie front-runner"..."till he was asked about Saddam's weapons stash." 'I'd take 'em out,' [Bush] grinned cavalierly, 'take out the weapons of mass destruction--I'm surprised he's still there.'
"Defeat them abroad before they attack us at home"..."Iraq is the central front"..."The only way our enemies [in Iraq] can succeed is if we forget the lessons of September 11."
This superficiality in the face of life and death is an unchanging trait. The cavalier would-be president was head-hunting even then; and Saddam was already in his sights.
Bush brought up New York no less than five times during his speech last June, at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The soldiers were given the cue for one lonely ripple of applause, while their president failed to answer the nation's concerns. Over and over again, Bush put together the same confounded story, as he linked Iraq and Saddam Hussein with September 11. As he was about to wind it up, with one final reference to September 11, the President couldn't resist a plea for new recruits. Awkward and a bit pathetic, the remark could be easily confused with some kind of grim, gallows humor, a parody of his performance.
"And to those watching tonight who are considering a military career, there is no higher calling than service in our Armed Forces."Our grandchildren will find out our secrets. They will see whether we became corrupt--or whether we grew just--once we decided to be stronger than our condition. Those who come after us will know if our souls rest easily. This would be because "we did what was necessary," as Camus says, "without any spirit of revenge or spite"..."as victory returns."
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
INTERVIEW OF JUBAL DURFEE, Part IV
Final installment of my interview with Jubal Durfee, whom I met at the gunshow recently. For more background on Jubal, see previous chapters below. Here we are in the midst of a big discussion on religion:
THOLOS: You say the Grand Canyon arrived “intact.” What about Adam and Eve?
JUBAL: What about ‘em?
THOLOS: Did they also arrive “intact”?
JUBAL: Well, that’s what the Bible says, ain’t it?
THOLOS: Were they the first two people?
JUBAL: Well, hell, yes.
THOLOS: You know that, for sure?
JUBAL: Of course I do.
THOLOS: Are you familiar with the Scopes trial?
JUBAL: The what?
THOLOS: The trial of John T. Scopes. The “Monkey Trial”?
JUBAL: Oh, I think I heard of that.
THOLOS: It was back in the twenties, a little town called Dayton, Tennessee. Scopes was a biology teacher who tried to teach evolution in his classroom. The town had an ordinance against teaching evolution--
JUBAL: Good for them!
THOLOS: So they put him on trial. Clarence Darrow defended him. And William Jennings Bryan defended the Bible as the only necessary authority in the classroom, when it came to the origins of life.
JUBAL: Well, I agree with him, by God.
THOLOS: I’d like to ask you a question that Clarence Darrow put to Mr. Bryan. Do you mind if I do that?
JUBAL: Go right ahead, bud.
THOLOS: There’s a passage in Genesis that goes: “And Cain went out from the presence of the Lord, and dwelt in the land of Nod, in the East of Eden. And Cain knew his wife.” What do you make of her?
JUBAL: Who?
THOLOS: Cain’s wife? Mrs. Cain? If Adam and Eve were the first two and they begat Cain and Abel, then where’d this extra woman spring from?
JUBAL: I dunno. I guess God musta fixed him up. (He laughs.)
THOLOS: But seriously. Where do you think she came from? Was there another creation somewhere-—over in the next county, perhaps?
JUBAL: Sure. Why not?
THOLOS: Yes, why not. Only, it’s not mentioned in the Bible, is it?
JUBAL: No, I don’t think it is.
THOLOS: But you’d think it would be, since it’s such an important story, and, as you say, everything in the Bible is the literal truth. Yet, there’s no explanation provided for the presence of this extra woman. For instance, there’s no mention of Mrs. Cain’s parents. Don’t you think that’s kind of odd?
JUBAL: Well, I’ll tell you, bud, I don’t spend a lot of time questioning the ways of God. I think if you get yourself saved, you’ll have all the answers you need, partner.
THOLOS: Okay. You mentioned gay people earlier.
JUBAL: Queers, yeah.
THOLOS: Do you think they’re not entitled to the same rights as other people?
JUBAL: Well, I don’t know about that. I do know what the Bible says about ‘em, though.
THOLOS: What’s that?
JUBAL: Says kill ‘em.
THOLOS: Really?
JUBAL: Yep. You oughta read it sometime. It says it in Leviticus.
THOLOS: It says kill them in Leviticus?
JUBAL: Yep. Chapter 20, verse 13. It’s right there in black and white.
THOLOS: It also says adulterers should be put to death, as well, doesn’t it?
JUBAL: Adulterers? Yeah, I guess it does. I wouldn’t be surprised.
THOLOS: And you go along with that?
JUBAL: Well, it’s in the Bible. I have to go along with it.
THOLOS: If you took all the adulterers in the country, let alone the whole world, and put them to death today, that would be a considerable amount of killing in one day, wouldn’t it?
JUBAL: I don’t know. I don’t know how many people commit adultery every day.
THOLOS: If I remember rightly, that same chapter you quoted from also says that anyone who curses his father or mother should be put to death. I would imagine there must be literally scores of teenagers, who at one time or another, in a fit of anger, may have cursed their father or mother. Many of them probably regretted it later, and some may not have. We know there are literally thousands of children who every year suffer at the hands of abusive or violent parents. Nevertheless, the Holy Scripture says they should all be put to death if they ever cursed their parents. Do you agree with that?
JUBAL: All I know is, it ain’t my place to question the Bible.
THOLOS: So you would kill all those children?
JUBAL: I don’t say I would. But I think God would deal with them, one way or another.
THOLOS: I see. So, this is the God we’re dealing with!
JUBAL: I didn’t say that.
THOLOS: If either of your sons ever, in a fit of anger, cursed you or their mother, would you agree with Leviticus that that boy should be put to death? And would you be willing to do that yourself, or would you try to get someone else to do it?
JUBAL: Well, that ain’t exactly a fair question. My kids never cursed me or their mother. They was raised better than that.
THOLOS: We’re just talking “what if”, here, that’s all. We’ve all known kids who were rebellious at times. What if one of yours cursed you? What would you do?
JUBAL (Slight laugh.) I know what you’re tryin’ to do. You’re tryin’ to trap me into sayin’ somethin’, and I ain’t gonna say it. I just don’t question God’s law. That’s all you need to know, bud.
THOLOS: Okay.
(At this point, his eyes were starting to glow like hot embers, so I changed the subject.)
THOLOS: You’re a big fan of Grover Norquist, aren’t you?
JUBAL: Oh, sure, you bet, he’s my man. Him and Karl Rove. Those are the two greatest men in this country right now, I believe.
THOLOS: Greater than Rumsfeld? Or Gonzales?
JUBAL: Are you kidding me? Man, those two are just lap-dogs. Rove and Norquist are the real action heroes in my comic book. Big guns. I’ve written letters to Grover thanking him for all his good work in behalf of us decent Americans. And you know what? He wrote me back, thanking me for all my work in Arkansas! And it wasn’t a form letter, either. It was a personal letter signed by Grover Norquist! I know, because he talked about Bee Keeper and how much he loved the Ozarks and mentioned that he had friends in Little Rock, and so on. So, that’s the kind of person he is. A genuine American through and through.
THOLOS: Norquist said that having moderates in the Republican Party was like drinking “rat-head cola.”
JUBAL (Laughing.) That sounds like somethin’ Grover would say, all right.
THOLOS: I guess it means if you found a rat head floating in your soda, you’d never buy that brand again.
JUBAL: That sounds about right. You get an A-plus! I think these moderates are doing a lot of harm, and we need to get rid of ‘em. We need to purify the party.
THOLOS: Purify it?
JUBAL: Yeah. You wouldn’t want to drink tainted water, would you? You want your water nice and clean. No impurities.
THOLOS: I see. I thought liberals were the big enemy of the Republicans. Now, it seems to be moderates.
JUBAL (Laughing.) Are you shittin’ me? No offense, buddy, but you liberals are a bunch of limp dicks. You can’t figure out your heads from your assholes. John Kerry! Hah! C’mon! On any given day, he does more for us than he does for you guys. All we have to do is wind him up, sit back, and watch him go. Like the Eveready rabbit. But they’re all like that, all those Democrats. Look, we even got Barbara Boxer, your best Liberal—shoutin’ hooray on the filibuster compromise. We got that new guy, that Nigra—what’s his name? Brock O--?
THOLOS: Barak Obama?
JUBAL: Yeah, him. S’posed to be some big liberal—out of Chicago. Made his big starry-eyed speech at the convention. First thing he did when he got here was vote with us on the bankruptsy bill. He couldn’t wait to play on our team! Yeah, we caught on to the “liberals” real fast. Norquist knew about ‘em from the beginning, knew how easy they were to domesticate. I didn’t believe it at first, but I’m startin’ to, now. Yep, they’re just like a herd of cows, standing in the shade, chewin’ their cuds. All you have to do is whistle or show ‘em a little sweet alfalfa, and they all come runnin’. Liberals! I wonder if they’re as pussy-whipped around their women as they are around Bill Frist or Tom Delay. Or even Kay Hutchison. Good ol’ Kay Bailey. God, I love that ol’ girl. Now, there’s a real lady, if there ever was one. Never voted the wrong way in her life. There ain’t a fighter jet or weapons system she ain’t head over heels in love with, including missile defense. And she’s a good Christian, too. I’d love to see her in a cat-fight with Hillary. I bet I know who the winner would be. Shoot, all Kay would have to do is say, “C’mon, Hillary, honey, let’s you and me compromise.” And that Clinton girl would go down like a cheap hooker. After all, she voted with us on the war. Yeah, all those Democrats are easy. We’ve moved on, now. We’re after bigger prey, now.
THOLOS: Thanks for talking to me, Jubal.
JUBAL: Sure thing.
THOLOS: You say the Grand Canyon arrived “intact.” What about Adam and Eve?
JUBAL: What about ‘em?
THOLOS: Did they also arrive “intact”?
JUBAL: Well, that’s what the Bible says, ain’t it?
THOLOS: Were they the first two people?
JUBAL: Well, hell, yes.
THOLOS: You know that, for sure?
JUBAL: Of course I do.
THOLOS: Are you familiar with the Scopes trial?
JUBAL: The what?
THOLOS: The trial of John T. Scopes. The “Monkey Trial”?
JUBAL: Oh, I think I heard of that.
THOLOS: It was back in the twenties, a little town called Dayton, Tennessee. Scopes was a biology teacher who tried to teach evolution in his classroom. The town had an ordinance against teaching evolution--
JUBAL: Good for them!
THOLOS: So they put him on trial. Clarence Darrow defended him. And William Jennings Bryan defended the Bible as the only necessary authority in the classroom, when it came to the origins of life.
JUBAL: Well, I agree with him, by God.
THOLOS: I’d like to ask you a question that Clarence Darrow put to Mr. Bryan. Do you mind if I do that?
JUBAL: Go right ahead, bud.
THOLOS: There’s a passage in Genesis that goes: “And Cain went out from the presence of the Lord, and dwelt in the land of Nod, in the East of Eden. And Cain knew his wife.” What do you make of her?
JUBAL: Who?
THOLOS: Cain’s wife? Mrs. Cain? If Adam and Eve were the first two and they begat Cain and Abel, then where’d this extra woman spring from?
JUBAL: I dunno. I guess God musta fixed him up. (He laughs.)
THOLOS: But seriously. Where do you think she came from? Was there another creation somewhere-—over in the next county, perhaps?
JUBAL: Sure. Why not?
THOLOS: Yes, why not. Only, it’s not mentioned in the Bible, is it?
JUBAL: No, I don’t think it is.
THOLOS: But you’d think it would be, since it’s such an important story, and, as you say, everything in the Bible is the literal truth. Yet, there’s no explanation provided for the presence of this extra woman. For instance, there’s no mention of Mrs. Cain’s parents. Don’t you think that’s kind of odd?
JUBAL: Well, I’ll tell you, bud, I don’t spend a lot of time questioning the ways of God. I think if you get yourself saved, you’ll have all the answers you need, partner.
THOLOS: Okay. You mentioned gay people earlier.
JUBAL: Queers, yeah.
THOLOS: Do you think they’re not entitled to the same rights as other people?
JUBAL: Well, I don’t know about that. I do know what the Bible says about ‘em, though.
THOLOS: What’s that?
JUBAL: Says kill ‘em.
THOLOS: Really?
JUBAL: Yep. You oughta read it sometime. It says it in Leviticus.
THOLOS: It says kill them in Leviticus?
JUBAL: Yep. Chapter 20, verse 13. It’s right there in black and white.
THOLOS: It also says adulterers should be put to death, as well, doesn’t it?
JUBAL: Adulterers? Yeah, I guess it does. I wouldn’t be surprised.
THOLOS: And you go along with that?
JUBAL: Well, it’s in the Bible. I have to go along with it.
THOLOS: If you took all the adulterers in the country, let alone the whole world, and put them to death today, that would be a considerable amount of killing in one day, wouldn’t it?
JUBAL: I don’t know. I don’t know how many people commit adultery every day.
THOLOS: If I remember rightly, that same chapter you quoted from also says that anyone who curses his father or mother should be put to death. I would imagine there must be literally scores of teenagers, who at one time or another, in a fit of anger, may have cursed their father or mother. Many of them probably regretted it later, and some may not have. We know there are literally thousands of children who every year suffer at the hands of abusive or violent parents. Nevertheless, the Holy Scripture says they should all be put to death if they ever cursed their parents. Do you agree with that?
JUBAL: All I know is, it ain’t my place to question the Bible.
THOLOS: So you would kill all those children?
JUBAL: I don’t say I would. But I think God would deal with them, one way or another.
THOLOS: I see. So, this is the God we’re dealing with!
JUBAL: I didn’t say that.
THOLOS: If either of your sons ever, in a fit of anger, cursed you or their mother, would you agree with Leviticus that that boy should be put to death? And would you be willing to do that yourself, or would you try to get someone else to do it?
JUBAL: Well, that ain’t exactly a fair question. My kids never cursed me or their mother. They was raised better than that.
THOLOS: We’re just talking “what if”, here, that’s all. We’ve all known kids who were rebellious at times. What if one of yours cursed you? What would you do?
JUBAL (Slight laugh.) I know what you’re tryin’ to do. You’re tryin’ to trap me into sayin’ somethin’, and I ain’t gonna say it. I just don’t question God’s law. That’s all you need to know, bud.
THOLOS: Okay.
(At this point, his eyes were starting to glow like hot embers, so I changed the subject.)
THOLOS: You’re a big fan of Grover Norquist, aren’t you?
JUBAL: Oh, sure, you bet, he’s my man. Him and Karl Rove. Those are the two greatest men in this country right now, I believe.
THOLOS: Greater than Rumsfeld? Or Gonzales?
JUBAL: Are you kidding me? Man, those two are just lap-dogs. Rove and Norquist are the real action heroes in my comic book. Big guns. I’ve written letters to Grover thanking him for all his good work in behalf of us decent Americans. And you know what? He wrote me back, thanking me for all my work in Arkansas! And it wasn’t a form letter, either. It was a personal letter signed by Grover Norquist! I know, because he talked about Bee Keeper and how much he loved the Ozarks and mentioned that he had friends in Little Rock, and so on. So, that’s the kind of person he is. A genuine American through and through.
THOLOS: Norquist said that having moderates in the Republican Party was like drinking “rat-head cola.”
JUBAL (Laughing.) That sounds like somethin’ Grover would say, all right.
THOLOS: I guess it means if you found a rat head floating in your soda, you’d never buy that brand again.
JUBAL: That sounds about right. You get an A-plus! I think these moderates are doing a lot of harm, and we need to get rid of ‘em. We need to purify the party.
THOLOS: Purify it?
JUBAL: Yeah. You wouldn’t want to drink tainted water, would you? You want your water nice and clean. No impurities.
THOLOS: I see. I thought liberals were the big enemy of the Republicans. Now, it seems to be moderates.
JUBAL (Laughing.) Are you shittin’ me? No offense, buddy, but you liberals are a bunch of limp dicks. You can’t figure out your heads from your assholes. John Kerry! Hah! C’mon! On any given day, he does more for us than he does for you guys. All we have to do is wind him up, sit back, and watch him go. Like the Eveready rabbit. But they’re all like that, all those Democrats. Look, we even got Barbara Boxer, your best Liberal—shoutin’ hooray on the filibuster compromise. We got that new guy, that Nigra—what’s his name? Brock O--?
THOLOS: Barak Obama?
JUBAL: Yeah, him. S’posed to be some big liberal—out of Chicago. Made his big starry-eyed speech at the convention. First thing he did when he got here was vote with us on the bankruptsy bill. He couldn’t wait to play on our team! Yeah, we caught on to the “liberals” real fast. Norquist knew about ‘em from the beginning, knew how easy they were to domesticate. I didn’t believe it at first, but I’m startin’ to, now. Yep, they’re just like a herd of cows, standing in the shade, chewin’ their cuds. All you have to do is whistle or show ‘em a little sweet alfalfa, and they all come runnin’. Liberals! I wonder if they’re as pussy-whipped around their women as they are around Bill Frist or Tom Delay. Or even Kay Hutchison. Good ol’ Kay Bailey. God, I love that ol’ girl. Now, there’s a real lady, if there ever was one. Never voted the wrong way in her life. There ain’t a fighter jet or weapons system she ain’t head over heels in love with, including missile defense. And she’s a good Christian, too. I’d love to see her in a cat-fight with Hillary. I bet I know who the winner would be. Shoot, all Kay would have to do is say, “C’mon, Hillary, honey, let’s you and me compromise.” And that Clinton girl would go down like a cheap hooker. After all, she voted with us on the war. Yeah, all those Democrats are easy. We’ve moved on, now. We’re after bigger prey, now.
THOLOS: Thanks for talking to me, Jubal.
JUBAL: Sure thing.
LIARS
Reading a book lately called The Bush Survival Bible, by Gene Stone. He has a chapter in there called, 1 Way to Tell If Bush Is Lying."
"Nick Morgan, Ph.D., one of the nation's foremost speech coaches, is an expert on body language; his most recent book is Working The Room (Harvard Business School Press, 2002)."
Morgan says it's easier, of course, to tell when someone you know is lying. The hard way is to watch for very small changes in facial expressions of people you don't know. "if you watch these people closely, you will notice split-second changes in expression take place as they lie."Morgan has studied Bush since watching him give the State of the Union address before the Iraq war. He says that when Bush lies, his eyes dart quickly from side to side. 'The moment I saw this was when he said that he wanted peace with Iraq and that he would seek out every possible avenue for peace. I knew then that the war was a done deal.
'Watch Bush's eyes dart, and you will be able to see him lie.'
. . .Morgan says that Condoleeza Rice is a terrible liar. 'It's written all over her face. When she lies, her face goes rigid--she tries to conceal the fact that she is lying by freezing. It's so obvious that anyone could make a lot of money playing in a high-stakes poker game with her.'
"Nick Morgan, Ph.D., one of the nation's foremost speech coaches, is an expert on body language; his most recent book is Working The Room (Harvard Business School Press, 2002)."
Morgan says it's easier, of course, to tell when someone you know is lying. The hard way is to watch for very small changes in facial expressions of people you don't know. "if you watch these people closely, you will notice split-second changes in expression take place as they lie."Morgan has studied Bush since watching him give the State of the Union address before the Iraq war. He says that when Bush lies, his eyes dart quickly from side to side. 'The moment I saw this was when he said that he wanted peace with Iraq and that he would seek out every possible avenue for peace. I knew then that the war was a done deal.
'Watch Bush's eyes dart, and you will be able to see him lie.'
. . .Morgan says that Condoleeza Rice is a terrible liar. 'It's written all over her face. When she lies, her face goes rigid--she tries to conceal the fact that she is lying by freezing. It's so obvious that anyone could make a lot of money playing in a high-stakes poker game with her.'
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