I guess,
If this plane were to shudder
into violent orange bits
in the presure of this cold front
and we had a weightless moment
together
before the end
it would not matter so much
because after it was all over
I would not be frustrated
by my inability to explain death to you
because there you would be
and we could spend eternity
talking about what it was like
when our breath left our body
and how weird it was
that the stewardess was stuck
pushing bags of salted nuts
on weary passengers
forever
Thursday, December 8, 2005
Monday, October 31, 2005
And Your Little Dog, too.
“Fuuuuuuck.”
That’s what she said when she realized who I was under all the green paint and witchyness.
“Demon wenches,” she slurred out as she looked beyond me to Kira and Greta.
But actually, you can go home again. And when you get there, your seventh grade health class tablemate will call you a demon wench. It’s refreshing; because if you return home expecting things to be the same or expecting some great sense of personal fulfillment or even that you will find that missing piece, and it will make your life entirely complete—something that your mom has been keeping for you in a box in the basement, perhaps—then you will be disappointed and sad. Home is what it is now, not what it was then, and it either needs to be rejected or appreciated on those grounds.
17 years or more after we graduated from high school, I am really only different in things I have and perhaps the way I look. Even green, I look much better now than I did then. It’s not that I arrive in Winona and immediately transform back into that insecure high school girl looking for approval from the alternative kids, but I remember that girl, and I appreciate her, too, for what she was and her part in getting me to where I am now: in charge of a whole fleet of flying monkeys.
Then Kira’s boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend’s mother died in Texas, so he took off at the last minute to attend the funeral, taking him away for the weekend. Kira decided to accompany us anyway, which made us happy, but she was of course sad that he would not be with her. Not to mention wondering why the gods just would not let her couples’ costume ideas work out.
Pete’s band played a great show, and everything came off just fine, even though we were running late from The Cities and then took a wrong turn, causing just a bit of tension in the car. I think that my heart actually stopped when Pete cut across a couple of lanes into en exit lane to turn around, coming up quite fast and quite close to a minivan that was also exiting in a more temperate manner. On Saturday, we took over the house. Luckily, my parents were out of town because we made a mess. By the time we were done, the family room looked like it had hosted a monkey fight. There were makeup tubes and bobby pins, feathers and bits of felt and fur everywhere. We just left it. Tomorrow is another day.
The party was populated by many people we did not know, some we knew by sight, at least one who should not be having a baby (I’m so judgmental), and a few of our high school compatriots. Some welcome, some not as welcome.
While it is disconcerting to see someone for the first time after what is probably a decade and have them be fat and clearly crazy, there is definitely a sense of self appreciation that comes from it. I really don’t care if this person thinks that I am a demon wench. It’s quite funny, actually. “FUUUCK you,” was the first response Kira got from her when she went to say hi. She was swaying and slurring by the time she got to me, and Mattress was complimenting her “bath towel attire” and saying things like “I love what you’ve done with yourself.” She didn’t notice. She was too far gone. Sure, it’s mean and done only for one’s own amusement at the expense of another person, but somewhere inside of all of us is a person who wishes we could just spend one day being Karen Walker. And besides, she was not exactly being complimentary toward us, and this is the same woman who gave Kira a second hand sheet wrapped in a second hand belt as a wedding present. The gift was prefaced with a “I looked really hard to find something that I really though was YOU.” Pete asked us in the morning what she was dressed as, because he was hoping that would identify her in his mind. “A fat crazy lady” was what we said. He didn’t remember her.
Crazy people or not, I’ll go home again. I have family there, and it really is a beautiful town. Winona is part of who I am; it molded me for 8 years and continues to reside in my psyche. It’s an identity, a cachet even in some remote circles, and I am just fine with saying I am from there. It’s full of memories and associations, not all of which are necessarily good, but which stir up the heart and the head and get the cells working, the synapses firing. Besides that, the beer is really cheap.
But what are we going to wear?
That’s what she said when she realized who I was under all the green paint and witchyness.
“Demon wenches,” she slurred out as she looked beyond me to Kira and Greta.
But actually, you can go home again. And when you get there, your seventh grade health class tablemate will call you a demon wench. It’s refreshing; because if you return home expecting things to be the same or expecting some great sense of personal fulfillment or even that you will find that missing piece, and it will make your life entirely complete—something that your mom has been keeping for you in a box in the basement, perhaps—then you will be disappointed and sad. Home is what it is now, not what it was then, and it either needs to be rejected or appreciated on those grounds.
17 years or more after we graduated from high school, I am really only different in things I have and perhaps the way I look. Even green, I look much better now than I did then. It’s not that I arrive in Winona and immediately transform back into that insecure high school girl looking for approval from the alternative kids, but I remember that girl, and I appreciate her, too, for what she was and her part in getting me to where I am now: in charge of a whole fleet of flying monkeys.
Then Kira’s boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend’s mother died in Texas, so he took off at the last minute to attend the funeral, taking him away for the weekend. Kira decided to accompany us anyway, which made us happy, but she was of course sad that he would not be with her. Not to mention wondering why the gods just would not let her couples’ costume ideas work out.
Pete’s band played a great show, and everything came off just fine, even though we were running late from The Cities and then took a wrong turn, causing just a bit of tension in the car. I think that my heart actually stopped when Pete cut across a couple of lanes into en exit lane to turn around, coming up quite fast and quite close to a minivan that was also exiting in a more temperate manner. On Saturday, we took over the house. Luckily, my parents were out of town because we made a mess. By the time we were done, the family room looked like it had hosted a monkey fight. There were makeup tubes and bobby pins, feathers and bits of felt and fur everywhere. We just left it. Tomorrow is another day.
The party was populated by many people we did not know, some we knew by sight, at least one who should not be having a baby (I’m so judgmental), and a few of our high school compatriots. Some welcome, some not as welcome.
While it is disconcerting to see someone for the first time after what is probably a decade and have them be fat and clearly crazy, there is definitely a sense of self appreciation that comes from it. I really don’t care if this person thinks that I am a demon wench. It’s quite funny, actually. “FUUUCK you,” was the first response Kira got from her when she went to say hi. She was swaying and slurring by the time she got to me, and Mattress was complimenting her “bath towel attire” and saying things like “I love what you’ve done with yourself.” She didn’t notice. She was too far gone. Sure, it’s mean and done only for one’s own amusement at the expense of another person, but somewhere inside of all of us is a person who wishes we could just spend one day being Karen Walker. And besides, she was not exactly being complimentary toward us, and this is the same woman who gave Kira a second hand sheet wrapped in a second hand belt as a wedding present. The gift was prefaced with a “I looked really hard to find something that I really though was YOU.” Pete asked us in the morning what she was dressed as, because he was hoping that would identify her in his mind. “A fat crazy lady” was what we said. He didn’t remember her.
Crazy people or not, I’ll go home again. I have family there, and it really is a beautiful town. Winona is part of who I am; it molded me for 8 years and continues to reside in my psyche. It’s an identity, a cachet even in some remote circles, and I am just fine with saying I am from there. It’s full of memories and associations, not all of which are necessarily good, but which stir up the heart and the head and get the cells working, the synapses firing. Besides that, the beer is really cheap.
But what are we going to wear?
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
I had left work early because there was nothing happening. I had a few errands to run, and then I thought I would stop by Headquarters and see if there was anything to do. Input data, stuff envelopes, box up a computer or two. I would be useful there. I was driving up Snelling Avenue to return some videos. Listening to public radio, looking at the campaign signs. Snelling Avenue North near the state fair in Saint Paul, Minnesota is Vegas for campaign signs because of its high traffic. I watched them flash past as I drove through the cold rain thinking, for certain, for the first time “We’re gonna win. We are going to win.” The numbers were looking good. The “no” vote, against the impending war, timed to hurt those running for office, had defied the pervasive political sensibilities and given him the lead. People trusted him and understood him, whether they agreed with him or not, and that respect led to a jump in the polls. “We are going to win.”
P.J O’ Rourke was speaking on the National Press Club, and his words about “pork” in recent federal government bills were ringing in my ears as I dropped off the videos and browsed for a few minutes. When I got back into the car, Gary Eichten, our Midday host on public radio, was speaking. “…no confirmed reports, but it appears that a small plane that was registered to the Wellstone campaign has crashed in northern Minnesota near Eveleth… it is not known at this time whether Senator Wellstone was aboard….”
No no no no no… please say no.
I headed down Larpenteur back to Snelling and back down the road. No. What are we supposed to do now? What am I supposed to do now? My cell phone rang, and it was my mother. She was crying; she was wondering what I was doing. Crying and driving and listening to the radio. She asked what I was going to do, and I said that I had been intending to go to Headquarters, but now I did not know what to do. She said I should go. So I did. I drove past a small crowd of reporters gathered around the doors to the building, parked, and walked over. The press manager was talking to the reporters, and he went to stop me, took one look, and waved me in. Inside Wellstone Campaign Headquarters was a feeling that had never been there. It was quiet; it was somber. People whispered and moved about as if in a trance. Some were crying, and no one really seemed to know what was going on. They were waiting; we were waiting. Hoping against hope, when we all knew the truth.
But I did not believe it until I looked up and saw Senator Ted Kennedy entering the room, followed by Walter Mondale and another man who, if he was not George McGovern, should play him in the film. They were all crying. They walked through the group of volunteers and staff, offering their condolences and hugging us in turn. This was real. But I felt like I was floating, dreaming a bad dream, and I would wake up.
No. No no no.
What are we supposed to do now?
P.J O’ Rourke was speaking on the National Press Club, and his words about “pork” in recent federal government bills were ringing in my ears as I dropped off the videos and browsed for a few minutes. When I got back into the car, Gary Eichten, our Midday host on public radio, was speaking. “…no confirmed reports, but it appears that a small plane that was registered to the Wellstone campaign has crashed in northern Minnesota near Eveleth… it is not known at this time whether Senator Wellstone was aboard….”
No no no no no… please say no.
I headed down Larpenteur back to Snelling and back down the road. No. What are we supposed to do now? What am I supposed to do now? My cell phone rang, and it was my mother. She was crying; she was wondering what I was doing. Crying and driving and listening to the radio. She asked what I was going to do, and I said that I had been intending to go to Headquarters, but now I did not know what to do. She said I should go. So I did. I drove past a small crowd of reporters gathered around the doors to the building, parked, and walked over. The press manager was talking to the reporters, and he went to stop me, took one look, and waved me in. Inside Wellstone Campaign Headquarters was a feeling that had never been there. It was quiet; it was somber. People whispered and moved about as if in a trance. Some were crying, and no one really seemed to know what was going on. They were waiting; we were waiting. Hoping against hope, when we all knew the truth.
But I did not believe it until I looked up and saw Senator Ted Kennedy entering the room, followed by Walter Mondale and another man who, if he was not George McGovern, should play him in the film. They were all crying. They walked through the group of volunteers and staff, offering their condolences and hugging us in turn. This was real. But I felt like I was floating, dreaming a bad dream, and I would wake up.
No. No no no.
What are we supposed to do now?
Friday, October 21, 2005
Zen Moment
Who's taking care of the millionaires?
The federal government? The IRS?
Yes.
And Powerball.
(Lucky Guy)
I love it when "strict fiscal conservatives" are also filthy rich. Because they can afford it.
The federal government? The IRS?
Yes.
And Powerball.
(Lucky Guy)
I love it when "strict fiscal conservatives" are also filthy rich. Because they can afford it.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
The church that put up the "Children know what god wants" sign (*shiver*) changed over a few days ago to:
"Violence is a lack of imagination."
Um, I think it's a little more than that.
Chartered Accountancy is a lack of imagination.
Plenty of uncreative people don't kill...
or maim, break, destroy, ignite, run for office.
I am going to be keeping an eye on this church.
"Violence is a lack of imagination."
Um, I think it's a little more than that.
Chartered Accountancy is a lack of imagination.
Plenty of uncreative people don't kill...
or maim, break, destroy, ignite, run for office.
I am going to be keeping an eye on this church.
Monday, October 10, 2005
H. Sapiens 101
Mary Shelley was 20 when she wrote “Frankenstein.” She was expressing fundamental issues swirling about in society in the first part of the 19th century. Science was literally exposing layers of previously unimaginable prehistory, and humankind was grappling with the concept of its primacy—with its very nature. In the book, Dr. Frankenstein sets out to find the source of life, literally, the spark. He succeeds in creating life from inanimate material, but fears and loathes his creation, abandoning it entirely. The creature eventually acts out against the creator in horrific ways. The creator does not take responsibility for the creature until it is too late, and the damage has been done. It’s a quest that will take his life and eventually take the life of the creature.
The crux of this biscuit is; if you create a monster, you are then responsible for understanding, caring for, and controlling that monster. It is unkind to do anything else. It is disrespectful and dangerous to set that monster loose and then abdicate the Creator Throne.
In this life I have met fellow beings who consider themselves creators: teachers of humanity. There is that old adage “Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.” I don’t agree with that statement: it only applies to bad teachers. I have had many teachers who were brilliant, accomplished, and able, but they enjoyed being around people and imparting their knowledge, so they chose to stay in school. And thank goodness they did. The bad teachers are another story. Unfortunately, they are often very good at cloaking themselves in respectability and projecting themselves as someone to be reckoned with. Because they occupy a position of power, because they are magnetic personalities, they wield influence over younger, less experienced individuals. Because they have become so adept at subverting their own neurosis, they often walk among us unexposed. They think that they are qualified to impart their wisdom of humanity to willing subjects, and they intend to do it.
Thing is: in order to be a teacher in H. Sapiens 101, you have to have first TAKEN the class and received a passing grade. You must then complete the coursework that comprises the entire curriculum and obtain your degree and then your teaching certificate. As your career progresses, you must engage in continuing education activities that will be monitored by the licensing body. There is a minimum of credits that must be completed per year to maintain your good standing.
What I am really trying to say here is:
Don’t get up on that dais, put your notes on the podium, write on that white board, or pick up that chalk until you have dealt with your own shit. Otherwise, the monsters you create might be your own.
The crux of this biscuit is; if you create a monster, you are then responsible for understanding, caring for, and controlling that monster. It is unkind to do anything else. It is disrespectful and dangerous to set that monster loose and then abdicate the Creator Throne.
In this life I have met fellow beings who consider themselves creators: teachers of humanity. There is that old adage “Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.” I don’t agree with that statement: it only applies to bad teachers. I have had many teachers who were brilliant, accomplished, and able, but they enjoyed being around people and imparting their knowledge, so they chose to stay in school. And thank goodness they did. The bad teachers are another story. Unfortunately, they are often very good at cloaking themselves in respectability and projecting themselves as someone to be reckoned with. Because they occupy a position of power, because they are magnetic personalities, they wield influence over younger, less experienced individuals. Because they have become so adept at subverting their own neurosis, they often walk among us unexposed. They think that they are qualified to impart their wisdom of humanity to willing subjects, and they intend to do it.
Thing is: in order to be a teacher in H. Sapiens 101, you have to have first TAKEN the class and received a passing grade. You must then complete the coursework that comprises the entire curriculum and obtain your degree and then your teaching certificate. As your career progresses, you must engage in continuing education activities that will be monitored by the licensing body. There is a minimum of credits that must be completed per year to maintain your good standing.
What I am really trying to say here is:
Don’t get up on that dais, put your notes on the podium, write on that white board, or pick up that chalk until you have dealt with your own shit. Otherwise, the monsters you create might be your own.
Thursday, October 6, 2005
Speech! Speech!
Obligatory Liberal Disclaimer: Saddam Hussein was a bad man. Osama Bin Laden is a bad man. Al Qaeda is a bad organization. Terrorism is bad.
President Bush gave a speech yesterday to the National Endowment for Democracy. This is an apparently well hung organization that is dedicated to “Supporting freedom around the world.” They were chartered by President Reagan, and they receive money from Congress. They say they want to “strengthen democratic institutions around the world through nongovernmental efforts.” Which seems covert to me. Wesley Clarke is on the board, and he has a brain in his head, so I’ll leave it to him to manage the crazies, should they ever appear.
Mr. Bush is apparently back on the horse after the devastating blow that Hurricane Katrina dealt to his approval ratings. I hate it when I lose points like that, so I understand. Granted, I am not in charge of a nation of 295,734,134 people (pre-Katrina), so I don’t know how heavily the deaths of over 1300 citizens would weigh on me. But I would probably have to get into the ring and throw punches like a prize fighter, staunchly declaring my purposes. I’d have to remind the American people that they are afraid, not angry. I’d have to get out that great glowing noun, Democracy, and its consort, Freedom, and have them puff up the chests of the faithful. I would have to redirect the nations’ eyes from the Louisiana morgue full of the nameless dead and the Mississippi families trying to rebuild.
Because we are under threat every day, every moment from extremist groups intent on burying our way of life. I would remind Americans to live in fear. Remind them that we have brought freedom to repressed parts of the world. Like Iraq and Afghanistan. (Don’t mention The Sudan, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia. Repression is relative to economics and political necessity.) Focus instead on the fact that we have “gained the peace that freedom brings.” This is peace. Remember that. Because “We're responding to a global campaign of fear with a global campaign of freedom. And once again, we will see freedom's victory.” Whatever I do, I would not liken their global campaign of fear to my national one.
September 11. Smoking ruins. Evil. Fire. Twisted metal. New York City. “Let’s roll.” September 11. Do you remember September 11? Let me remind you: September 11, “a proud city covered in smoke and ashes, a fire across the Potomac, and passengers who spent their final moments on Earth fighting the enemy.” Side note: when I mention those “men who rejoice in every death,” please don’t think about the following people:
Repent America director Michael Marcavage said that it’s too bad that many had to die, but God “destroyed a wicked city.”
Hal Lindsey thinks that Katrina shows that “the prophetic times [he has] been expecting for decades have finally arrived. And even worse, it appears that the judgment of America has begun.”
Former Nixon special counsel Charles Colson speculated that God allowed Hurricane Katrina as to remind us how important it is that we win the War on Terror: "Did God have anything to do with Katrina?," people ask. My answer is, he allowed it and perhaps he allowed it to get our attention so that we don't delude ourselves into thinking that all we have to do is put things back the way they were and life will be normal again.”
Steve Lefemine of Columbia Christians for Life saw an image of an 8-week old fetus imbedded in the satellite image of Katrina: "In my belief, God judged New Orleans for the sin of shedding innocent blood through abortion."
Also, Please don’t think about the people of Mississippi, the City of Biloxi, the countless rural dwellers who lost their lives, their livelihoods. Don’t tell them that “Oops, sorry, you were just too close to that sin pot, New Orleans. God does not have smart bombs. No. Think about “Americans in uniform rising to duty.” But don’t think about them coming home in flag-draped caskets. Don’t think about 1945 American soldiers dead. Done. Over. Lives ruined. Don’t ever take any responsibility for anything this country has ever done to bring on acts of hatred. Only women can be blamed for their own victimization. America could never wear its skirts too short and sashay down a dark alley, inviting attack. Make sure to condemn others for rejoicing in death because it makes Americans forget that I don’t even seem to understand it. Don’t remind people that you cannot have a war on a noun. (See: War on Drugs.) Certainly and absolutely never mention Oklahoma City or Atlanta or the numerous abortion clinics bombed and Americans killed. Certainly, a statement like the following, taken out of context, could ONLY denote Islamic Fundamentalists.
“All these separate images of destruction and suffering that we see on the news can seem like random and isolated acts of madness. Innocent men and women and children have died simply because they boarded the wrong train or worked in the wrong building or checked into the wrong hotel. And while the killers choose their victims indiscriminately, their attacks serve a clear and focused ideology, a set of beliefs and goals that are evil but not insane.”
Remember: these people hate you and they hate your god. They hate your freedom. None of this has anything to do with American foreign policy or American history or a general trend toward radicalism, all over the world, fueled by poverty, lack of resources, poor education, and disenfranchisement of all kinds. Religious freedom equals freedom to practice Christianity. My kind of Christianity. Extremism is usually bad, would you say? Fundamentalism usually warps the religion, perhaps? Only their kind. My kind: good. Their kind: Bad.
Please, people, understand: Al Qaeda is a propagandistic organization, recruiting based on poverty, displacement and anger. They accept only their cause as the one true cause. I know this because the real one true cause, the cause that I represent, works in much the same way. Our weapon, however, is money. Money and fear. But I know. I can’t talk about that. I must remember to keep that to myself, only as a reference.
Remember: “We know the vision of the radicals because they've openly stated it in videos and audiotapes and letters and declarations and Web sites.” This should be easy to remember because we use these tactics as well. Please ignore the sulfuric smell of my smirking. These people are “fanatical and extreme and they should not be dismissed.”
Never forget, “these extremists want to end American and Western influence in the broader Middle East, because we stand for democracy and peace and stand in the way of their ambitions. It’s not us. It’s them. They “regard Iraq as the central front in their war against humanity, and we must recognize Iraq as the central front in our war on terror.” Please do not think about how Iraq became that front. Don’t think about what would happen in the Middle East if the USA actually Let Freedom Ring and allowed these people to choose their own governments.
At this point I might bring up other despots in order to confuse the issue more. Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot. Examples of “Evil men obsessed with ambition and unburdened by conscience” who must be “taken very seriously, and we must stop them before their crimes can multiply.” I would not point out to anyone on the left that this sentence could be turned against me.
I would have a lot of poignant things to say, that would come from my own experience over the last five and a half years of governing: “Defeating a militant network is difficult because it thrives like a parasite on the suffering and frustration of others.” and “The radicals exploit local conflicts to build a culture of victimization in which someone else is always to blame and violence is always the solution.” and “The radicals depend on front operations such as corrupted charities which direct money to terrorist activity.” and “They are strengthened by those who aggressively fund the spread of radical, intolerant versions of Islam in unstable parts of the world.” But I would not point out that, with a substitution of a few nouns, you would not know who I was talking about—my government or the enemy. This is fun. It’s easy to give speeches. I like talking to people.
It would be important to again link Iraq with Al Qaeda and September 11, perhaps with a statement like this, “Some have also argued that extremism has been strengthened by the actions of our coalition in Iraq, claiming that our presence in that country has somehow caused or triggered the rage of radicals. I would remind them that we were not in Iraq on September the 11th, 2001, and Al Qaeda attacked us anyway.” Iraq is just an excuse now for the liberals and the terrorists, and I need to remind the American people of that. I need to put these concepts into a sentence together again: Iraq, Al Qaeda, September 11. And it’s always good to have an esoteric link between liberals and terrorists floating around out there in the ether.
If it weren’t ludicrous and could actually spawn laughter, I might link Islamic radicalism with communism. I might say that “this fight resembles the struggle against communism in the last century.” Because “Like the ideology of communism, Islamic radicalism is elitist, led by a self-appointed vanguard that presumes to speak for the Muslim masses.” “Like the ideology of communism, our new enemy teaches that innocent individuals can be sacrificed to serve a political vision. And this explains their cold-blooded contempt for human life.”
Don’t point out that Kristian philosophy neglects this world of the flesh in favor of an afterlife in paradise. Don’t refer back to the Wrath of God/Hurricane Katrina people. Don’t think about Valerie Plame. Don’t look into the service records of my administration or our average net worth. Don’t think about the elections of 2000. Don’t define the term “corporate oligarchic theocracy.”
Don’t point out that Karl Rove basically transposed his philosophy for taking over America into this very speech. “Like the ideology of communism, our new enemy pursues totalitarian aims. Its leaders pretend to be in an aggrieved party, representing the powerless against imperial enemies. In truth, they have endless ambitions of imperial domination and they wish to make everyone powerless except themselves. Under their rule, they have banned books and desecrated historical monuments and brutalized women. They seek to end dissent in every form and to control every aspect of life and to rule the soul itself. While promising a future of justice and holiness, the terrorists are preparing for a future of oppression and misery. Like the ideology of communism, our new enemy is dismissive of free peoples, claiming that men and women who live in liberty are weak and decadent.”
Don’t trace the co-opting of populist rhetoric by the conservative right.
At this point, I am confused, but I was told to keep reading. I won’t stumble over this because it sounds so familiar, so home grown: I will charge on. I will finish this speech with a few more points. Some of these are actually funny, but I won’t chuckle. “The essence of democracy [is] making your case, debating with those who disagree, building consensus by persuasion and answering to the will of the people.”
This is tough. But it’s on the teleprompter: “In fact, democratic federalism is the best hope for unifying a diverse population, because a federal constitutional system respects the rights and religious traditions of all citizens while giving all minorities…a stake and a voice in the future of their country.
Gosh, I hope no one analyzes this speech.
“As Americans, we believe that people everywhere—everywhere prefer freedom to slavery and that liberty, once chosen, improves the lives of all.”
Who writes this stuff? Karl? Can I have a word with you? No? OK.
Almost done.
“There's always a temptation in the middle of a long struggle to seek the quiet life, to escape the duties and problems of the world, and to hope the enemy grows weary of fanaticism and tired of murder.”
Great! This is where I get to take a vacation. Excellent. I have brush to clear. I hope no one ever passes a law that says if you start a war, you aren’t allowed to go on vacation until you finish the war. That would suck.
Last but not least:
“Tyrants and would-be tyrants have always claimed that regimented societies are strong and pure until those societies collapse in corruption and decay.”
Ah, truer words were never spoken.
Is this thing on?
President Bush gave a speech yesterday to the National Endowment for Democracy. This is an apparently well hung organization that is dedicated to “Supporting freedom around the world.” They were chartered by President Reagan, and they receive money from Congress. They say they want to “strengthen democratic institutions around the world through nongovernmental efforts.” Which seems covert to me. Wesley Clarke is on the board, and he has a brain in his head, so I’ll leave it to him to manage the crazies, should they ever appear.
Mr. Bush is apparently back on the horse after the devastating blow that Hurricane Katrina dealt to his approval ratings. I hate it when I lose points like that, so I understand. Granted, I am not in charge of a nation of 295,734,134 people (pre-Katrina), so I don’t know how heavily the deaths of over 1300 citizens would weigh on me. But I would probably have to get into the ring and throw punches like a prize fighter, staunchly declaring my purposes. I’d have to remind the American people that they are afraid, not angry. I’d have to get out that great glowing noun, Democracy, and its consort, Freedom, and have them puff up the chests of the faithful. I would have to redirect the nations’ eyes from the Louisiana morgue full of the nameless dead and the Mississippi families trying to rebuild.
Because we are under threat every day, every moment from extremist groups intent on burying our way of life. I would remind Americans to live in fear. Remind them that we have brought freedom to repressed parts of the world. Like Iraq and Afghanistan. (Don’t mention The Sudan, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia. Repression is relative to economics and political necessity.) Focus instead on the fact that we have “gained the peace that freedom brings.” This is peace. Remember that. Because “We're responding to a global campaign of fear with a global campaign of freedom. And once again, we will see freedom's victory.” Whatever I do, I would not liken their global campaign of fear to my national one.
September 11. Smoking ruins. Evil. Fire. Twisted metal. New York City. “Let’s roll.” September 11. Do you remember September 11? Let me remind you: September 11, “a proud city covered in smoke and ashes, a fire across the Potomac, and passengers who spent their final moments on Earth fighting the enemy.” Side note: when I mention those “men who rejoice in every death,” please don’t think about the following people:
Repent America director Michael Marcavage said that it’s too bad that many had to die, but God “destroyed a wicked city.”
Hal Lindsey thinks that Katrina shows that “the prophetic times [he has] been expecting for decades have finally arrived. And even worse, it appears that the judgment of America has begun.”
Former Nixon special counsel Charles Colson speculated that God allowed Hurricane Katrina as to remind us how important it is that we win the War on Terror: "Did God have anything to do with Katrina?," people ask. My answer is, he allowed it and perhaps he allowed it to get our attention so that we don't delude ourselves into thinking that all we have to do is put things back the way they were and life will be normal again.”
Steve Lefemine of Columbia Christians for Life saw an image of an 8-week old fetus imbedded in the satellite image of Katrina: "In my belief, God judged New Orleans for the sin of shedding innocent blood through abortion."
Also, Please don’t think about the people of Mississippi, the City of Biloxi, the countless rural dwellers who lost their lives, their livelihoods. Don’t tell them that “Oops, sorry, you were just too close to that sin pot, New Orleans. God does not have smart bombs. No. Think about “Americans in uniform rising to duty.” But don’t think about them coming home in flag-draped caskets. Don’t think about 1945 American soldiers dead. Done. Over. Lives ruined. Don’t ever take any responsibility for anything this country has ever done to bring on acts of hatred. Only women can be blamed for their own victimization. America could never wear its skirts too short and sashay down a dark alley, inviting attack. Make sure to condemn others for rejoicing in death because it makes Americans forget that I don’t even seem to understand it. Don’t remind people that you cannot have a war on a noun. (See: War on Drugs.) Certainly and absolutely never mention Oklahoma City or Atlanta or the numerous abortion clinics bombed and Americans killed. Certainly, a statement like the following, taken out of context, could ONLY denote Islamic Fundamentalists.
“All these separate images of destruction and suffering that we see on the news can seem like random and isolated acts of madness. Innocent men and women and children have died simply because they boarded the wrong train or worked in the wrong building or checked into the wrong hotel. And while the killers choose their victims indiscriminately, their attacks serve a clear and focused ideology, a set of beliefs and goals that are evil but not insane.”
Remember: these people hate you and they hate your god. They hate your freedom. None of this has anything to do with American foreign policy or American history or a general trend toward radicalism, all over the world, fueled by poverty, lack of resources, poor education, and disenfranchisement of all kinds. Religious freedom equals freedom to practice Christianity. My kind of Christianity. Extremism is usually bad, would you say? Fundamentalism usually warps the religion, perhaps? Only their kind. My kind: good. Their kind: Bad.
Please, people, understand: Al Qaeda is a propagandistic organization, recruiting based on poverty, displacement and anger. They accept only their cause as the one true cause. I know this because the real one true cause, the cause that I represent, works in much the same way. Our weapon, however, is money. Money and fear. But I know. I can’t talk about that. I must remember to keep that to myself, only as a reference.
Remember: “We know the vision of the radicals because they've openly stated it in videos and audiotapes and letters and declarations and Web sites.” This should be easy to remember because we use these tactics as well. Please ignore the sulfuric smell of my smirking. These people are “fanatical and extreme and they should not be dismissed.”
Never forget, “these extremists want to end American and Western influence in the broader Middle East, because we stand for democracy and peace and stand in the way of their ambitions. It’s not us. It’s them. They “regard Iraq as the central front in their war against humanity, and we must recognize Iraq as the central front in our war on terror.” Please do not think about how Iraq became that front. Don’t think about what would happen in the Middle East if the USA actually Let Freedom Ring and allowed these people to choose their own governments.
At this point I might bring up other despots in order to confuse the issue more. Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot. Examples of “Evil men obsessed with ambition and unburdened by conscience” who must be “taken very seriously, and we must stop them before their crimes can multiply.” I would not point out to anyone on the left that this sentence could be turned against me.
I would have a lot of poignant things to say, that would come from my own experience over the last five and a half years of governing: “Defeating a militant network is difficult because it thrives like a parasite on the suffering and frustration of others.” and “The radicals exploit local conflicts to build a culture of victimization in which someone else is always to blame and violence is always the solution.” and “The radicals depend on front operations such as corrupted charities which direct money to terrorist activity.” and “They are strengthened by those who aggressively fund the spread of radical, intolerant versions of Islam in unstable parts of the world.” But I would not point out that, with a substitution of a few nouns, you would not know who I was talking about—my government or the enemy. This is fun. It’s easy to give speeches. I like talking to people.
It would be important to again link Iraq with Al Qaeda and September 11, perhaps with a statement like this, “Some have also argued that extremism has been strengthened by the actions of our coalition in Iraq, claiming that our presence in that country has somehow caused or triggered the rage of radicals. I would remind them that we were not in Iraq on September the 11th, 2001, and Al Qaeda attacked us anyway.” Iraq is just an excuse now for the liberals and the terrorists, and I need to remind the American people of that. I need to put these concepts into a sentence together again: Iraq, Al Qaeda, September 11. And it’s always good to have an esoteric link between liberals and terrorists floating around out there in the ether.
If it weren’t ludicrous and could actually spawn laughter, I might link Islamic radicalism with communism. I might say that “this fight resembles the struggle against communism in the last century.” Because “Like the ideology of communism, Islamic radicalism is elitist, led by a self-appointed vanguard that presumes to speak for the Muslim masses.” “Like the ideology of communism, our new enemy teaches that innocent individuals can be sacrificed to serve a political vision. And this explains their cold-blooded contempt for human life.”
Don’t point out that Kristian philosophy neglects this world of the flesh in favor of an afterlife in paradise. Don’t refer back to the Wrath of God/Hurricane Katrina people. Don’t think about Valerie Plame. Don’t look into the service records of my administration or our average net worth. Don’t think about the elections of 2000. Don’t define the term “corporate oligarchic theocracy.”
Don’t point out that Karl Rove basically transposed his philosophy for taking over America into this very speech. “Like the ideology of communism, our new enemy pursues totalitarian aims. Its leaders pretend to be in an aggrieved party, representing the powerless against imperial enemies. In truth, they have endless ambitions of imperial domination and they wish to make everyone powerless except themselves. Under their rule, they have banned books and desecrated historical monuments and brutalized women. They seek to end dissent in every form and to control every aspect of life and to rule the soul itself. While promising a future of justice and holiness, the terrorists are preparing for a future of oppression and misery. Like the ideology of communism, our new enemy is dismissive of free peoples, claiming that men and women who live in liberty are weak and decadent.”
Don’t trace the co-opting of populist rhetoric by the conservative right.
At this point, I am confused, but I was told to keep reading. I won’t stumble over this because it sounds so familiar, so home grown: I will charge on. I will finish this speech with a few more points. Some of these are actually funny, but I won’t chuckle. “The essence of democracy [is] making your case, debating with those who disagree, building consensus by persuasion and answering to the will of the people.”
This is tough. But it’s on the teleprompter: “In fact, democratic federalism is the best hope for unifying a diverse population, because a federal constitutional system respects the rights and religious traditions of all citizens while giving all minorities…a stake and a voice in the future of their country.
Gosh, I hope no one analyzes this speech.
“As Americans, we believe that people everywhere—everywhere prefer freedom to slavery and that liberty, once chosen, improves the lives of all.”
Who writes this stuff? Karl? Can I have a word with you? No? OK.
Almost done.
“There's always a temptation in the middle of a long struggle to seek the quiet life, to escape the duties and problems of the world, and to hope the enemy grows weary of fanaticism and tired of murder.”
Great! This is where I get to take a vacation. Excellent. I have brush to clear. I hope no one ever passes a law that says if you start a war, you aren’t allowed to go on vacation until you finish the war. That would suck.
Last but not least:
“Tyrants and would-be tyrants have always claimed that regimented societies are strong and pure until those societies collapse in corruption and decay.”
Ah, truer words were never spoken.
Is this thing on?
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