Blogjammin' - There'll Be No Shelter Here

Friday, September 29, 2006


I really love these things, so I figured I'd use another one today as it relates to... well, you'll just have to see this one to believe it.

From time to time people will criticize me for taking shots at the super-wealthy. It's no secret that my economic policy beliefs fall closer to the side of socialism than that of capitalism, something that is often considered a dirty-word in the United States. However, it's not just the money that regularly irritates me about the ruling class in society, it's the fact that concentrating that kind of power in the hands of some of these people is... well... just plain crazy.

Let's face it, every social and economic class has it's crazy people. I'm certainly not suggesting that wackos like this guy exist only in the wealthy, top-tier of society. I'm just pointing out that when people like this can literally "buy and sell your ass," we're all in trouble.

Now that I've said all of that, read this! Talk about interesting... the article is long as hell but a real page-turner. And if any of you are interested in doing a little research into the legalities of kin-folk marryin' in your own backyard, let me provide this handly little chart!


Take note of this chart, by the way. The next time you hear someone make a joke about Kentuckians (or West Virginians) marrying cousins, be sure to point out that while it isn't legal to do so in our state, it is perfectly legal in California and New York.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

I know that Dallas sucks, but isn't this taking things a bit too far?

Besides, we all know that he's just trying to get out of playing Philly.

Monday, September 25, 2006

For years now a great debate has raged. A debate that has spanned months, decades and even millennia... and that's just among the people that I know. A debate that, if ever truly brought to some sense of finality may actually rupture the entire sense of space and time that we take for granted...

I am of course talking about who is and who isn't grizzled.

You may scoff at this idea, but keep in mind the ramifications of designating someone as grizzled, while ruling out another's grizzledness. Accurately defining what it means to be grizzled can shape entire societies, define masculinity and femininity and bring entire cultures to their knees. There are a select few of us that have made the study of grizzledness in modern society a way of life, a passion if you will. A passion that rages like an unquenchable thirst, often overtaking conversation and even occasionally pitting brother against brother.

I come to you tonight not to bring closure to the issue, as my experience in this field of study has proven that neither my generation, nor my children's generation will ever settle this question. I come to you tonight to pose a question about one man... one man and his grizzledness.

Is Chris Ledoux grizzled?

At first this may seem like an open-and-shut case. At this point you've probably formed an opinion as to whether or not you feel that Mr. Ledoux deserves the title of "grizzled" or whether he should be delegated to one of the lesser categories (i.e. manly, tough, badass or even roughneck). However, there are points to be made that may change your mind either way.

First of all, it should be pointed out that Chris was born in Mississippi and raised in Texas. Now, my personal opinions on those states aside, that's an excellent pedigree of grizzledness. At the age of 18 he moved to Wyoming and joined the rodeo... once again, Wyoming isn't high on my list of "best places on Earth," but keep in mind that most grizzled places aren't.

While on the rodeo circuit he became the National Bareback Bronc Riding Champion. I don't know a damn thing about rodeo, but even with my limited education I can assume that "bareback bronc riding" means what I think it does, and "champion" probably means that he was better than everyone else at doing so. So, at this point it becomes rather tough to argue against Chris' grizzled status. Let's face it, he could have gone home every night, pulled on some sexy stockings and pranced around the living room singing showtunes and he's still more grizzled that I am... or pretty much anyone I know.

He then proceeded to embody the idea of the American Cowboy by writing and singing his own songs about the life of bronc ridin' and general cowboyin'. He self-produced twenty-two albums before finally making his major label debut in 1991 on Capitol Records. I tend to give poor, self-promoted musicians an extra grizzled point, even though that often brings their grizzled score to ONE. However, making 22 albums on your own tends to put you in a league of your own.

... besides, the guy looks like this

Plus five grizzled points for looking like the illegitimate child of Ted Nugent and The Marlboro Man.

So, you may now be thinking, "Cory, with all of these details, how could he possibly not make the cut?" Well, had he cut things off right then and there he most certainly would have been on the fast-track to grizzled status. But fame seemed to steal away a bit of the western mystique that Chris had managed to build over so many years.

First of all, we should point out that his big break came from Garth Brooks. I'm not here to cast stones at Mr. Brooks or his music, but I'm quite certain that there's no serious student of grizzled studies that would consider Garth to be grizzled... even for a second... and even for a laugh. In case you're currently thinking of making some hackneyed argument as to how Garth Brooks may actually be grizzled, let me remind you of Chris Gaines. End of discussion.

But, Garth aside, there's the fact that Ledoux began to actually adapt to mainstream country music after attaining a bit of success. He started wearing the horrendous fashions of early 90's country music, he brought the pyro out on stage, he started putting together poppy, radio friendly songs and perhaps worst of all, he started prancing around on stage with Garth Brooks.

For every "This Cowboy's Hat" there were two "Whatcha Gonna Do With A Cowboy" type songs. If you're not familiar with those particular jams, just imagine Bob Dylan recording a Britney Spears song, but without a trace of irony. Now, this isn't to compare Ledoux to Bob Dylan, hell... I don't even particularly like Chris Ledoux, but once again pleading ignorance I can only assume that he's the Bob Dylan of authentic cowboy music.

He turned into a caricature of himself. A homogenized, media-friendly cowboy without a trace of old west rebellion. For those of us that didn't grow up listening to old-school Chris Ledoux, we're just left to wonder what the hell the fuss was all about. And all of the cowboy legacy aside, would any truly grizzled man ever pose for pictures with decidedly UN-GRIZZLED people like this...

Or God forbid, THIS...

So, I close this question with a question. Can a man's past, no matter how grizzled, be completely erased by the actions of the last years of his life? Chris Ledoux died at the age of 56 of complications relating to a long battle with cancer (immediate grizzled points), leaving behind a very mixed legacy. When you consider the hierarchy of men that are truly and undoubtedly grizzled, men like David Allan Coe, George Washington AND Thomas Jefferson, George Patton and of course Roy Johnson, can a man that spent the latter part of his life prancing around in front of pyrotechnics and crooning with Garth Brooks make the cut?

It's a tougher call than you think, and one that could essentially have a profound effect on the future of grizzledness as we know it. Weigh your answers carefully.

Sorry for leaving you guys high and dry without witty, insightful posts for the last few days. I've been busy, then on top of that I've had the worst cold in history. Literally, I'm pretty sure that Dustin Hoffman and Cuba Gooding Jr. were flying over my apartment with a weapon of mass destruction at one point. Thank God the abort order was issued.

Anyway, I'll try to get some interesting stuff up for you in the next couple of days. I swear.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

I realize that I say terrible things about Texas... and they've earned every one of 'em. But don't forget that from time to time even Texas can give us something wonderful.


Ann Richards: Democratic National Convention Keynote Address

delivered 19 July 1988, Atlanta GA

Audio mp3 of Address

click for pdf click for flash

[AUTHENTICITY CERTIFIED: Text version below transcribed directly from audio]

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, very much.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Buenas noches, mis amigos.

I'm delighted to be here with you this evening, because after listening to George Bush all these years, I figured you needed to know what a real Texas accent sounds like.

Twelve years ago Barbara Jordan, another Texas woman, Barbara made the keynote address to this convention, and two women in a hundred and sixty years is about par for the course.

But if you give us a chance, we can perform. After all, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels.

I want to announce to this Nation that in a little more than 100 days, the Reagan-Meese-Deaver-Nofziger-Poindexter-North-Weinberger-Watt-Gorsuch-Lavelle -Stockman-Haig-Bork-Noriega-George Bush [era] will be over!

You know, tonight I feel a little like I did when I played basketball in the 8th grade. I thought I looked real cute in my uniform. And then I heard a boy yell from the bleachers, "Make that basket, Birdlegs." And my greatest fear is that same guy is somewhere out there in the audience tonight, and he's going to cut me down to size, because where I grew up there really wasn’t much tolerance for self-importance, people who put on airs.

I was born during the Depression in a little community just outside Waco, and I grew up listening to Franklin Roosevelt on the radio. Well, it was back then that I came to understand the small truths and the hardships that bind neighbors together. Those were real people with real problems and they had real dreams about getting out of the Depression. I can remember summer nights when we’d put down what we called the Baptist pallet, and we listened to the grown-ups talk. I can still hear the sound of the dominoes clicking on the marble slab my daddy had found for a tabletop. I can still hear the laughter of the men telling jokes you weren’t supposed to hear -- talkin' about how big that old buck deer was, laughin' about mama puttin' Clorox in the well when the frog fell in.

They talked about war and Washington and what this country needed. They talked straight talk. And it came from people who were living their lives as best they could. And that’s what we’re gonna do tonight. We’re gonna tell how the cow ate the cabbage.

I got a letter last week from a young mother in Lorena, Texas, and I wanna read part of it to you. She writes,

“Our worries go from pay day to pay day, just like millions of others. And we have two fairly decent incomes, but I worry how I’m going to pay the rising car insurance and food. I pray my kids don’t have a growth spurt from August to December, so I don’t have to buy new jeans. We buy clothes at the budget stores and we have them fray and fade and stretch in the first wash. We ponder and try to figure out how we're gonna pay for college and braces and tennis shoes. We don’t take vacations and we don’t go out to eat. Please don’t think me ungrateful. We have jobs and a nice place to live, and we’re healthy. We're the people you see every day in the grocery stores, and we obey the laws. We pay our taxes. We fly our flags on holidays and we plod along trying to make it better for ourselves and our children and our parents. We aren’t vocal any more. I think maybe we’re too tired. I believe that people like us are forgotten in America.”

Well of course you believe you’re forgotten, because you have been.

This Republican Administration treats us as if we were pieces of a puzzle that can’t fit together. They've tried to put us into compartments and separate us from each other. Their political theory is “divide and conquer.” They’ve suggested time and time again that what is of interest to one group of Americans is not of interest to any one else. We’ve been isolated. We’ve been lumped into that sad phraseology called “special interests.” They’ve told farmers that they were selfish, that they would drive up food prices if they asked the government to intervene on behalf of the family farm, and we watched farms go on the auction block while we bought food from foreign countries. Well, that’s wrong!

They told working mothers it’s all their fault -- their families are falling apart because they had to go to work to keep their kids in jeans and tennis shoes and college. And they’re wrong!! They told American labor they were trying to ruin free enterprise by asking for 60 days’ notice of plant closings, and that’s wrong. And they told the auto industry and the steel industry and the timber industry and the oil industry, companies being threatened by foreign products flooding this country, that you’re "protectionist" if you think the government should enforce our trade laws. And that is wrong. When they belittle us for demanding clean air and clean water for trying to save the oceans and the ozone layer, that’s wrong.

No wonder we feel isolated and confused. We want answers and their answer is that "something is wrong with you." Well nothing's wrong with you. Nothing’s wrong with you that you can’t fix in November!

We’ve been told -- We’ve been told that the interests of the South and the Southwest are not the same interests as the North and the Northeast. They pit one group against the other. They've divided this country and in our isolation we think government isn’t gonna help us, and we're alone in our feelings. We feel forgotten. Well, the fact is that we are not an isolated piece of their puzzle. We are one nation. We are the United States of America.

Now we Democrats believe that America is still the county of fair play, that we can come out of a small town or a poor neighborhood and have the same chance as anyone else; and it doesn’t matter whether we are black or Hispanic or disabled or a women [sic]. We believe that America is a country where small business owners must succeed, because they are the bedrock, backbone of our economy.

We believe that our kids deserve good daycare and public schools. We believe our kids deserve public schools where students can learn and teachers can teach. And we wanna believe that our parents will have a good retirement and that we will too. We Democrats believe that social security is a pact that can not be broken.

We wanna believe that we can live out our lives without the terrible fear that an illness is going to bankrupt us and our children. We Democrats believe that America can overcome any problem, including the dreaded disease called AIDS. We believe that America is still a country where there is more to life than just a constant struggle for money. And we believe that America must have leaders who show us that our struggles amount to something and contribute to something larger -- leaders who want us to be all that we can be.

We want leaders like Jesse Jackson. Jesse Jackson is a leader and a teacher who can open our hearts and open our minds and stir our very souls. And he has taught us that we are as good as our capacity for caring, caring about the drug problem, caring about crime, caring about education, and caring about each other.

Now, in contrast, the greatest nation of the free world has had a leader for eight straight years that has pretended that he can not hear our questions over the noise of the helicopters. And we know he doesn’t wanna answer. But we have a lot of questions. And when we get our questions asked, or there is a leak, or an investigation the only answer we get is, “I don’t know,” or “I forgot.”

But you wouldn’t accept that answer from your children. I wouldn’t. Don’t tell me “you don’t know” or “you forgot.” We're not going to have the America that we want until we elect leaders who are gonna tell the truth; not most days but every day; leaders who don’t forget what they don’t want to remember. And for eight straight years George Bush hasn’t displayed the slightest interest in anything we care about. And now that he's after a job that he can’t get appointed to, he's like Columbus discovering America. He’s found child care. He’s found education. Poor George. He can’t help it. He was born with a silver foot in his mouth.

Well, no wonder. No wonder we can’t figure it out. Because the leadership of this nation is telling us one thing on TV and doing something entirely different. They tell us -- They tell us that they're fighting a war against terrorists. And then we find out that the White House is selling arms to the Ayatollah. They -- They tell us that they’re fighting a war on drugs and then people come on TV and testify that the CIA and the DEA and the FBI knew they were flying drugs into America all along. And they’re negotiating with a dictator who is shoveling cocaine into this country like crazy. I guess that’s their Central American strategy.

Now they tell us that employment rates are great, and that they’re for equal opportunity. But we know it takes two paychecks to make ends meet today, when it used to take one. And the opportunity they’re so proud of is low-wage, dead-end jobs. And there is no major city in America where you cannot see homeless men sitting in parking lots holding signs that say, “I will work for food.”

Now my friends, we really are at a crucial point in American history. Under this Administration we have devoted our resources into making this country a military colossus. But we’ve let our economic lines of defense fall into disrepair. The debt of this nation is greater than it has ever been in our history. We fought a world war on less debt than the Republicans have built up in the last eight years. You know, it’s kind of like that brother-in-law who drives a flashy new car, but he’s always borrowing money from you to make the payments.

Well, but let’s take what they are most proudest of -- that is their stand of defense. We Democrats are committed to a strong America, and, quite frankly, when our leaders say to us, "We need a new weapons system," our inclination is to say, “Well, they must be right.” But when we pay billions for planes that won’t fly, billions for tanks that won’t fire, and billions for systems that won’t work, "that old dog won’t hunt." And you don’t have to be from Waco to know that when the Pentagon makes crooks rich and doesn’t make America strong, that it’s a bum deal.

Now I’m going to tell you, I'm really glad that our young people missed the Depression and missed the great Big War. But I do regret that they missed the leaders that I knew, leaders who told us when things were tough, and that we’d have to sacrifice, and that these difficulties might last for a while. They didn’t tell us things were hard for us because we were different, or isolated, or special interests. They brought us together and they gave us a sense of national purpose. They gave us Social Security and they told us they were setting up a system where we could pay our own money in, and when the time came for our retirement we could take the money out. People in the rural areas were told that we deserved to have electric lights, and they were gonna harness the energy that was necessary to give us electricity so my grandmamma didn’t have to carry that old coal oil lamp around. And they told us that they were gonna guarant[ee] when we put our money in the bank, that the money was going to be there, and it was going to be insured. They did not lie to us.

And I think one of the saving graces of Democrats is that we are candid. We talk straight talk. We tell people what we think. And that tradition and those values live today in Michael Dukakis from Massachusetts.

Michael Dukakis knows that this country is on the edge of a great new era, that we’re not afraid of change, that we’re for thoughtful, truthful, strong leadership. Behind his calm there’s an impatience to unify this country and to get on with the future. His instincts are deeply American. They’re tough and they’re generous. And personally, I have to tell you that I have never met a man who had a more remarkable sense about what is really important in life.

And then there’s my friend and my teacher for many years, Senator Lloyd Bentsen. And I couldn’t be prouder, both as a Texan and as a Democrat, because Lloyd Bentsen understands America. From the barrio to the boardroom, he knows how to bring us together, by regions, by economics, and by example. And he’s already beaten George Bush once.

So, when it comes right down to it, this election is a contest between those who are satisfied with what they have and those who know we can do better. That’s what this election is really all about. It’s about the American dream -- those who want to keep it for the few and those who know it must be nurtured and passed along.

I’m a grandmother now. And I have one nearly perfect granddaughter named Lily. And when I hold that grandbaby, I feel the continuity of life that unites us, that binds generation to generation, that ties us with each other. And sometimes I spread that Baptist pallet out on the floor, and Lily and I roll a ball back and forth. And I think of all the families like mine, like the one in Lorena, Texas, like the ones that nurture children all across America. And as I look at Lily, I know that it is within families that we learn both the need to respect individual human dignity and to work together for our common good. Within our families, within our nation, it is the same.

And as I sit there, I wonder if she’ll ever grasp the changes I’ve seen in my life -- if she’ll ever believe that there was a time when blacks could not drink from public water fountains, when Hispanic children were punished for speaking Spanish in the public schools, and women couldn’t vote.

I think of all the political fights I’ve fought, and all the compromises I’ve had to accept as part payment. And I think of all the small victories that have added up to national triumphs and all the things that would never have happened and all the people who would’ve been left behind if we had not reasoned and fought and won those battles together. And I will tell Lily that those triumphs were Democratic Party triumphs.

I want so much to tell Lily how far we’ve come, you and I. And as the ball rolls back and forth, I want to tell her how very lucky she is that for all our difference, we are still the greatest nation on this good earth. And our strength lies in the men and women who go to work every day, who struggle to balance their family and their jobs, and who should never, ever be forgotten.

I just hope that like her grandparents and her great-grandparents before that Lily goes on to raise her kids with the promise that echoes in homes all across America: that we can do better, and that’s what this election is all about.

Thank you very much.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

While wandering aimlessly through the blogosphere today I came across a rather interesting post from Mr. Kevin Hall. It appears that a simple search for "Jimmy Stewart" on Blockbuster.com led to a startling discovery about Mr. Stewart's body of work... apparently the man likes scorpions... a lot.

Of course, being a huge Jimmy Stewart fan, I rushed immediately to my DVD collection and the internet to get to the bottom of this mystery. Apparenlty not only did Jay-Stew star in more scorpion-themed films than you can shake a stick at, but some of his non-scorpion films featured cameos that you may have missed.

"I have no defense against forged scorpions!"

You may have missed it, but in this classic scene from Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Senator Jefferson Smith held up not only scores of telegrams, but one rather large scorpion! It's dedication like that, holding live animals with stingers and pinchers, that makes Jimmy Stewart one of America's greatest talents.

Here, without regard for his own safety, Stewart pleads with an officer to turn around seconds before he is devoured by a giant scorpion. This scene was cut from It's A Wonderful Life, as the rather grotesque moments that followed would have certainly alienated the film's target audience. Moments like these appeared and were subsequently cut from countless Frank Capra films, most were last minute inclusions fueled by long nights, bottles of absinthe and an opium pipe... you should see the horror unleashed in the alternate ending of Pocketful of Miracles.

Most people are unaware that German rockers, The Scorpions, appeared in films made in 1939. Secretly, the Germans devised a rather elaborate time-travel system during WWII. This device went unused until the mid 1980's when frontman Klaus Meine purchased it in an estate sale. The band then used their expansive powers for good, choosing only to go back throughout time and teach the world to rock.

In this memorable Stewart close-up the audience never got to see what it was that Jimmy found so perplexing. At the end of this dingy street a swarm of deadly African scorpions advances. Once again, the scene was cut to preserve the film's feel, but we can only imagine what could have been.

So, there you have it. It may now become my life's work to uncover each and every secret scorpion in each and every Jimmy Stewart film. Perhaps I could petition USC to add a course on subliminal scoripionery to their film curriculum, or at least touch on the subject more frequently in general study classes. I can only hope that some of our modern actors will pick up where Jimmy left off, boldly giving roles to these often under appreciated arachnids... Jim Carrey, I hope you're listening.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

This afternoon Sarah rejoined the blogging world for the first time since immeasurable tragedy struck her life. She has, of course, maintained an aura of class and dignity through an event that would have brought a weaker person crashing to their knees... and her blog is now no exception. It's amazing how someone can exude such grace in circumstances like these, but she has managed to do so, becoming an inspiration to each and every one of us.

Her first post is one of the most beautiful things that I've seen surrounding this entire event. I can't begin to say how happy I am to see her back online, and I'm more than willing to surrender the top spot on Brinton's list of links.

In case you missed Olbermann's speech from yesterday, allow me to provide it below... he took the words out of the mouths of more than half of the United States.


This hole in the ground

Half a lifetime ago, I worked in this now-empty space. And for 40 days after the attacks, I worked here again, trying to make sense of what happened, and was yet to happen, as a reporter.

All the time, I knew that the very air I breathed contained the remains of thousands of people, including four of my friends, two in the planes and -- as I discovered from those "missing posters" seared still into my soul -- two more in the Towers.

And I knew too, that this was the pyre for hundreds of New York policemen and firemen, of whom my family can claim half a dozen or more, as our ancestors.

I belabor this to emphasize that, for me this was, and is, and always shall be, personal.

And anyone who claims that I and others like me are "soft,"or have "forgotten" the lessons of what happened here is at best a grasping, opportunistic, dilettante and at worst, an idiot whether he is a commentator, or a Vice President, or a President.

However, of all the things those of us who were here five years ago could have forecast -- of all the nightmares that unfolded before our eyes, and the others that unfolded only in our minds -- none of us could have predicted this.

Five years later this space is still empty.

Five years later there is no memorial to the dead.

Five years later there is no building rising to show with proud defiance that we would not have our America wrung from us, by cowards and criminals.

Five years later this country's wound is still open.

Five years later this country's mass grave is still unmarked.

Five years later this is still just a background for a photo-op.

It is beyond shameful.

At the dedication of the Gettysburg Memorial -- barely four months after the last soldier staggered from another Pennsylvania field -- Mr. Lincoln said, "we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract."

Lincoln used those words to immortalize their sacrifice.

Today our leaders could use those same words to rationalize their reprehensible inaction. "We cannot dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground." So we won't.

Instead they bicker and buck pass. They thwart private efforts, and jostle to claim credit for initiatives that go nowhere. They spend the money on irrelevant wars, and elaborate self-congratulations, and buying off columnists to write how good a job they're doing instead of doing any job at all.

Five years later, Mr. Bush, we are still fighting the terrorists on these streets. And look carefully, sir, on these 16 empty acres. The terrorists are clearly, still winning.

And, in a crime against every victim here and every patriotic sentiment you mouthed but did not enact, you have done nothing about it.

And there is something worse still than this vast gaping hole in this city, and in the fabric of our nation. There is its symbolism of the promise unfulfilled, the urgent oath, reduced to lazy execution.

The only positive on 9/11 and the days and weeks that so slowly and painfully followed it was the unanimous humanity, here, and throughout the country. The government, the President in particular, was given every possible measure of support.

Those who did not belong to his party -- tabled that.

Those who doubted the mechanics of his election -- ignored that.

Those who wondered of his qualifications -- forgot that.

History teaches us that nearly unanimous support of a government cannot be taken away from that government by its critics. It can only be squandered by those who use it not to heal a nation's wounds, but to take political advantage.

Terrorists did not come and steal our newly-regained sense of being American first, and political, fiftieth. Nor did the Democrats. Nor did the media. Nor did the people.

The President -- and those around him -- did that.

They promised bi-partisanship, and then showed that to them, "bi-partisanship" meant that their party would rule and the rest would have to follow, or be branded, with ever-escalating hysteria, as morally or intellectually confused, as appeasers, as those who, in the Vice President's words yesterday, "validate the strategy of the terrorists."

They promised protection, and then showed that to them "protection" meant going to war against a despot whose hand they had once shaken, a despot who we now learn from our own Senate Intelligence Committee, hated al-Qaida as much as we did.

The polite phrase for how so many of us were duped into supporting a war, on the false premise that it had 'something to do' with 9/11 is "lying by implication."

The impolite phrase is "impeachable offense."

Not once in now five years has this President ever offered to assume responsibility for the failures that led to this empty space, and to this, the current, curdled, version of our beloved country.

Still, there is a last snapping flame from a final candle of respect and fairness: even his most virulent critics have never suggested he alone bears the full brunt of the blame for 9/11.

Half the time, in fact, this President has been so gently treated, that he has seemed not even to be the man most responsible for anything in his own administration.

Yet what is happening this very night?

A mini-series, created, influenced -- possibly financed by -- the most radical and cold of domestic political Machiavellis, continues to be televised into our homes.

The documented truths of the last fifteen years are replaced by bald-faced lies; the talking points of the current regime parroted; the whole sorry story blurred, by spin, to make the party out of office seem vacillating and impotent, and the party in office, seem like the only option.

How dare you, Mr. President, after taking cynical advantage of the unanimity and love, and transmuting it into fraudulent war and needless death, after monstrously transforming it into fear and suspicion and turning that fear into the campaign slogan of three elections? How dare you -- or those around you -- ever "spin" 9/11?

Just as the terrorists have succeeded -- are still succeeding -- as long as there is no memorial and no construction here at Ground Zero.

So, too, have they succeeded, and are still succeeding as long as this government uses 9/11 as a wedge to pit Americans against Americans.

This is an odd point to cite a television program, especially one from March of 1960. But as Disney's continuing sell-out of the truth (and this country) suggests, even television programs can be powerful things.

And long ago, a series called "The Twilight Zone" broadcast a riveting episode entitled "The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street."

In brief: a meteor sparks rumors of an invasion by extra-terrestrials disguised as humans. The electricity goes out. A neighbor pleads for calm. Suddenly his car -- and only his car -- starts. Someone suggests he must be the alien. Then another man's lights go on. As charges and suspicion and panic overtake the street, guns are inevitably produced. An "alien" is shot -- but he turns out to be just another neighbor, returning from going for help. The camera pulls back to a near-by hill, where two extra-terrestrials are seen manipulating a small device that can jam electricity. The veteran tells his novice that there's no need to actually attack, that you just turn off a few of the human machines and then, "they pick the most dangerous enemy they can find, and it's themselves."

And then, in perhaps his finest piece of writing, Rod Serling sums it up with words of remarkable prescience, given where we find ourselves tonight: "The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices, to be found only in the minds of men.

"For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own -- for the children, and the children yet unborn."

When those who dissent are told time and time again -- as we will be, if not tonight by the President, then tomorrow by his portable public chorus -- that he is preserving our freedom, but that if we use any of it, we are somehow un-American...When we are scolded, that if we merely question, we have "forgotten the lessons of 9/11"... look into this empty space behind me and the bi-partisanship upon which this administration also did not build, and tell me:

Who has left this hole in the ground?

We have not forgotten, Mr. President.

You have.

May this country forgive you.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

This is my 400th post.

I've given you three hundred and ninety nine ideas.

They haven't all been enlightening, in fact, they've largely been ridiculous.

So, as a reader, do me a favor and watch this...

This is what I want my 400th post to be.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

I've been trying to get back to the blog world for some time now, but as the dust begins to settle on the last few days I've found myself at a loss as to what to post up here. I guess everyone goes through a dry spell from time to time and mine has left me without a great deal of things to ramble on about.

Sure, there's Joe Lieberman... jackass. There's George Bush admitting in a matter of a month that not only did Iraq NOT have anything to do with 9/11 but that we were also operating secret CIA prisons throughout the world... but since we all knew those things already it's hardly news. There's the upcoming network made-for-tv movie hitting this weekend that blames Bill Clinton for 9/11, and then I guess there's also 9/11 itself.

However, nothing has really been worth putting to paper (or screen) lately, so I guess I'll just ramble on for a few minutes more.

When you type "I have no idea what to write" into Google Image Search you get this delightful little image.

Last weekend was spent largely with friends, watching football and listening to music (I believe that line could also be attributed to nearly anyone's senior yearbook biography). As I'm sure you're aware, I was thrilled to see WVU slaughter the Marshall Thundering Herd and I actually thought that Kentucky had a better showing against Louisville than most folks expected. Greg Drake had the audacity to suggest that UK would top the Cards by a margin of six points... next time you see Greg be sure to point and laugh.

Is there a better name in all of college football (especially when associated with a specific team) than Colt McCoy?

The New York Mets will meet the Detroit Tigers in this year's World Series. As much as I hate to say it, I'm fairly sure that the Mets are going to be given the Roy Horn treatment.

I never realized it until it was too late, but I think I'm going to genuinely miss the Crocodile Hunter. Honestly though, I had more than ample time to prepare for that one.

I've eaten an inordinate amount of fast-food in the last couple of weeks. My verdict: Arby's fries may have surpassed McDonald's for best all-around fry flavor, but there's probably no better item on any menu than Burger King's French Toast Sticks.

Finally, I've been listening to the hell out of the Dropkick Murphys lately. I have, of course, been familiar with these guys for years, but it seems as if I somehow force myself to rediscover their catalogue every seven or eight months... this 2/3 of the year is no exception. Maybe it's something about late summer that puts me in the mood for them, or maybe it's just that they rock entirely too hard to be ignored. Either way I'll close with they lyrics to "Worker's Song," which may be the best song I've ever heard.

Yeh, this one's for the workers who toil night and day
By hand and by brain to earn your pay
Who for centuries long past for no more than your bread
Have bled for your countries and counted your dead

In the factories and mills, in the shipyards and mines
We've often been told to keep up with the times
For our skills are not needed, they've streamlined the job
And with sliderule and stopwatch our pride they have robbed

[Chorus:]
We're the first ones to starve, we're the first ones to die
The first ones in line for that pie-in-the-sky
And we're always the last when the cream is shared out
For the worker is working when the fat cat's about

And when the sky darkens and the prospect is war
Who's given a gun and then pushed to the fore
And expected to die for the land of our birth
Though we've never owned one lousy handful of earth?

[Chorus x3]

All of these things the worker has done
From tilling the fields to carrying the gun
We've been yoked to the plough since time first began
And always expected to carry the can