December Wolves: All I Know Is I Hope That We're Better Than That

The title comes from an ALL song called Better Than That. This post is obviously based on the fact that I'm not.

Okay. Jersey Shore.

First. I'm not Italian in any kind of meaningful quantity, so the use of guido as a term of endearment and solidarity is intriguing. I mean, the people (who are only a little bit older than me) are dumb enough to have no idea of the history of the word, but hey. It's their history and not mine.

Second. Seriously, these kids are dumb and self-absorbed.

Third. If I was being plied with vaguely attractive women, literally gallons of alcohol and a boring job (working at a tshirt store) with my crazy roomates, would I act that stupid? I've done really dumb shit when I was drinking. This is the time for them to do idiotic things. I did very dumb things this year and the difference between them and me is that I didn't have an MTV camera crew following me, I didn't spend an hour on my hair, I don't work out an eighth as much as they do. If i was there, what would I do? I'm not sure. I would probably have a complete mental break within two weeks after I realize that I am being watched as I urinate.

I mean, I read Hellboy books (the Library editions of them, anyway). I could fill a row of shelves with the books I own. My life would not be terribly interesting to film. But hell. These kids doesn't seem so bad. No, wait, I take that back. they do. They seem kind of stir-crazy, honestly. And when you add stir-craziness to a group of kids that never really grew up, it's not a good scene.

There's the Real World staples:
+The haughty, bitchy alpha girl that thrives on discord and assault.
+Dumb mooks of guys who make up for brains with brawn and chiseled bodies.
+One slightly self-aware girl.
+One completely pants-on-head crazy guy who gives himself a nickname.

Yeah, I'm going to have to back away from this now on the idea that I read books. Pretty much obsessively. All of that said, though. I'm scared of falling into the "well, thank God I'm not like them" trap. But really, I'm not quite as self-absorbed as those people, I hope, but I can sink to the same levels as them. I'm not as shallow, I hope, but then again, I've looked down girl's shirts and stared at butts. They're just being more straightforward and honest about it.

I just hope there's a difference between them and me that is more than one of degree, but that hope doesn't make it so.

Okay. Karl Rove.

I was excited when I heard that Karl Rove got a divorce. I shouldn't be. He hasn't done anything to me personally. He's good at what he does and what he does isn't nice. Okay, I'm being glib

again. But mostly, I disagree with the policies he proposed and the way he went about his business. Outing a CIA agent because her husband hammered the administration in a New York Times op-ed crosses the line.

But which line? I don't wish him dead. I just wish him out of his comfortable job. I wish him stop being so smug. I wish his life is harder, but intruding into his personal life seems like I'm going a bit far, even for a person whose actions I despise. And if I hate him this much then what's wrong with hoping his personal life disintegrates for everything he's done? I know the answer to that question, of course, because for whatever reason, I view the personal sphere as something sacred.

Then, he puts out a statement saying that he wants other people to respect his privacy. A call for privacy from a guy who sold out an undercover agent's identity for payback. Man, I want the jackals to hound him. I want some CNN 3 ring circus shit around his home and personal sphere. But no matter how poetic the justice sounds, it still doesn't feel like justice. It doesn't feel right. I want some blood from Rove for all he's done, but like this, it isn't justice. It's revenge. Justice is that the trail of evidence clearly and unambiguously catches up to Rove in a way that buries his political career.

I'll say this: Karl Rove, if you read this, I'm sorry for being happy that you got divorced. And I don't hope that there's a media circus around your divorce, but if there is, I'm not going to move to stop it or defend you, even with the slim patina of humanity.

What kills me is that it's probably more than you deserve.

Black Republican

I dream things that never were; and I say "Why not?"
-George Bernard Shaw



What if Barack Obama wasn’t the first black president? What if he was the second?

What if I told you the Republican Party had a universally-respected, erudite black man courting them for their nomination who enjoyed a razor thin edge over Clinton and was ahead of all his opponents? They’d be crazy not to pick him, right?

(Remember, we’re still in hypothetical.)

This black man was just young enough to project vigorousness, but with wisdom that far exceeded his years. He served with distinction in Vietnam. He had national security experience in the deified Reagan White House. He usually had something generous to say and when he didn’t, he kept his mouth shut.

Sounds bulletproof, right? It is, so long as you’re not being shot in the back.

He wasn’t far enough to the right on abortion, gun control and civil rights for the newly minted Faustian contract with America, so he had to be taken down. But how? You can’t assault him to his face and you can’t question his patriotism. This is a man who was the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the highest rank one can achieve in the Armed Services.

Instead, the fix was in like this: Purple Heart, Bronze Star and multiple Distinguished Service medals (2 for the Army, 4 from the Defense Department) notwithstanding, Colin Powell was deemed a “milicrat”, that is to say, a paper-pusher, just with a different color suit. I wonder how it felt to be Colin Powell, to hear from people that had multiple draft deferments with no military experience that he was a glorified middle-manager.

To be fair, that charge has the élan (sorry, wrong elan) of the chicken-hawks. It’s factually, intellectually and truthfully wrong, but what takes it over the top is not what the slur is, but how it’s expressed. It’s dismissive in a way that utilizes a populist and class-ist rhetoric that hides just how sanctimonious and silly the statement is.

Colin Powell wasn’t a man who served in Vietnam, winning multiple citations for bravery and dedicated his youth to the service, he’s actually like your narcissist corporate shark boss, so went the line from the religious right.

The real despicable thing was the allegation of mental illness. But wait, you say. I’ve never heard of Colin Powell ever having a mental illness. That would have come up again, like when he was Secretary of State, right?

Well, yes. But it wasn’t Powell that was being accused. It was his wife.

His wife, who was not out on the campaign trail, not hustling for attention. His wife, who was raising two kids at the time. His wife, who takes medication for depression. To keep Colin Powell out of the race, the rightest of right wing, back in 1996, sent the message that if you keep going, we will make it personal and we will make it bloody. Powell would drop out of the race soon afterwards, claiming “he didn’t have the stomach” for politics and he was right.

It still begs the question, though. What if?

How would the political landscape in 2009 be different if the self-proclaimed Party of Lincoln was the first one to nominate a black man for POTUS? How would the political landscape be different 20 years from now when little kids grow up and the party animal they affiliate with is the elephant and not the donkey?

It’s not that the Republicans or the Democrats (or any party, for that matter) is the party of the future, but that in 1995 and 1996, the Republicans revealed their commitment to be the party of the past, which in a bit of black humor, would carry them surprisingly far into the future.

Cue 2008. Powell, after having his legacy and professional reputation destroyed by Bush’s War on Terror, had stayed quiet during the presidential campaign, not stumping for anyone and keeping a low profile. And then it’s announced that he’s going on Meet the Press, most commentators speculating he’s finally going to make an endorsement in the race.

He endorses Obama and as soon as he does so is branded a traitor to the Republican Party by the blogs, but the blogs were just in the numbers game anyway, they’re tangential at the moment. They missed the part where Powell speaks generously about McCain, a friend, and says that it’s lack of respect for the people surrounding McCain that led him to endorse Barack Obama, whom he believes is the right person at the right time to become a transformational figure in American political history. I wonder, though, when Obama was elected did he think, hell, it’s about time, or hell, it’s 12 years too late?

You Lie, I Lie

Let's talk about the outburst and around the speech. I haven't seen the speech. I haven't read a transcript, so I don't know how I feel about it. I hear from Democratic congresspeople, by and large that it was a "gamechanger" and I hear from Republican congresspeople by and large it was more empty campaign rhetoric.

So, I know what the middle ground is, but I don't know if that's a truthful or accurate barometer of the speech. I have heard, fourth hand that in a Congressional bill (it's unclear who'se and if its even been voted on) somewhere there is a provision that limits doctors pay to $60,000 a year. That seems unlikely, but I think it's something that's indicative of what the American public knows about the process, which is not terribly much.

It sounds like there's wild speculation going on and honestly, trying to read any one of those things puts me to sleep and I'm used to reading dense, hard to penetrate documents. If you want accurate information on the process of health care reform, well, that's why you have a representative for your district (however gerrymandered it may be), spend some time, find their number, call up their office and don't settle until you have someone who tells you they are your congressperson.

Ask them specific questions and my guess is they'll be able to help you. In fact, avoid phrases like "socialism", "radical right" and so on. You'll get farther that way.

(At this juncture, it's important to note that a statesman is a public official who does things you like and a politician is a public official who does things you don't.)

Let's go to the outburst. Joe Wilson, a representative from the *ahem* great state of South Carolina yelled out "You lie!" when Obama said that the health care plan would not cover illegal immigrants. Mr. Wilson's outburst was based on the fact that illegal immigrants do slip through the cracks of American bureaucracy and acquire social services based on the mistaken belief that they're American citizens.

I'll indulge in a tangent about that soon.

But. Wilson is likely right and Barack Obama is likely wrong. That said, it seems unlikely that the President of the United States is going to be loose with benefits beyond stabilization at hospitals and a drivers license to those undocumented aliens. That's the obvious part. The less obvious part comes next.

One of the important things in politics, aside from a thick skin is an incredibly robust selective memory and there are a lot of left-leaning pundits that engaged it when they called the "You lie!" outburst an outrage. In 2005, Democrats booed and heckled President's George W. Bush's State of the Union address and my guess is those same pundits didn't call it an outrage then. I'm not going to commend Joe Wilson for yelling the President was a liar in front of a well-televised speech. I think it was embarrassing and unflattering, but no more outrageous than heckling at the State of the Union four years ago.





P.S. I don't endorse any of the sites that put up the youtube videos I'm linking to, I haven't heard of either, but figured I should say something just in case.

And there were very high-ranking members of the Democratic Party (read: Harry Reid) who called Bush a liar when he went overseas. I happen to agree with Mr. Reid. It wasn't outrageous then, so it shouldn't be outrageous now, even if it does feel, somehow, more obnoxious at the time.

It's worth taking a closer look at what inaccuracies were being verbalized.

Bush was promoting a falsehood about the safety of Iraq, which had deadly consequences daily for its citizens and Obama said something he had to know was technically incorrect, which if enacted, will have consequences that don't end up in civilians getting killed by roadside bombs or becoming victims of collateral damage. In short, I don't believe these lies are equivocal, but there are parallels that must be acknowledged if we're going to be intellectually honest with ourselves and possibly have a worthwhile conversation.

Remember the earlier comment I made about the tangent? Here it comes.

What's maddening to me is that there is so called "principled" objections to the Democratic bills because the system might get scammed by illegal Mexican immigrants fleeing poverty and a civil war based on cartel allegiance. (Before I begin, I'd like to note that stabilization for patients in critical care is a different thing than having health insurance.) Let's be clear: the argument, so far as I understand it, goes like this:

"I work hard for my money and I don't want said hard-earned money being taken from me by the government to deliver lower-cost medical services to people who aren't citizens of this country."

Okay, these people don't want their money being spent on a wasteful bureaucracy. Fair enough. My response is simple.

"I work hard for my money and I don't want said hard-earned money being taken from me by the government to be distributed to war profiteers to spend on extravagant vacations, private jets and lobbyist junkets."

See also: I had the same problem with the War in Iraq and almost everything the Bush administration touched, but I paid my federal taxes when I disagreed. Now it's your turn. Too bad.

Now, here's where my affectation comes in. I believe, in the grand scheme of things, that it is better to have government largess benefit people who aren't its citizens getting medical attention than to have that same largess continue to employ the services of KBR, Haliburton and Blackwater (now Xe) during wartime at cost plus.

Yes, the money is not going to be used for what it is supposed to. That's going to happen no matter who is in charge and what their perspective is. I'd rather that money go to "waste" healing people (who odds are, don't have access to much back home and aren't related to the vilified Reagan "welfare queens" ) than paying for the help of Xe, Haliburton and KBR to fight our wars. If we are going to fight those wars, I'd rather we pay the Army to do it.

The principle at play here appears to be "until the bill is written to absolutely forbid (and mandate heavy penalties if violated) anyone who might be an illegal alien from scamming the system, I'm going to withhold my support, while acknowledging that Americans from coast to coast are being bankrupted right now by the current system." This principle does not impress me.

If I've learned anything from this (what, maybe 28 hours removed from the outburst) it's how important thoughtful commentary from a distance of at least one sleep cycle is. The point is to go beyond the news and try to place current events in a context that is truthful and paint a full picture of the events and the people making them. The point is not to be spending hours finding the best ammunition for a partisan hackjob.

Sadly, that's all we're getting.

So, like, hi, I post here!

REVENGE FANTASY OF THE DAY



Elevennames.com - the essence of professionalism.



I'm still alive somehow! I'm watching MTV, because I hate myself. The entire station appears to be populated by self-obsessed tools. But they're pretty good looking, so I guess I should keep watching. Hooray for teevee!



Regardless, the theme of this week is The Howling of a Pack of Wolves. Which have a kind of strange beauty to them - you can understand how people can be inspired to wear a T-shirt with big wolves on them. Hell, I want to wear a T-shirt with a big wolf on it. But the important thing is that I'm imagining wolves tearing apart the people on Parental Control. I swear - what is going on with the West Coast? Are people really like that? Is there some kind of radiation west of the rockies that turns everyone into a douchebag? Wolves go rar! Tools say eeek and splork, and "oh no we is bein' eatin!"



A man can dream



SO I NEARLY DIED IN THE STRAND BOOKSTORE TODAY



My diet, since coming to new york, has faltered significantly, i.e. James told me I was anorexic. But it's working! I lost eleven pounds in two weeks! And I'm pretty sure that not all of it was muscle mass. Here's what I usually eat every day.



- 4-6 strawberries

- Sometimes a cracker with cheese.



SEE? Diet revolution! There are side effects, though. They consist of apparently never having to go to the bathroom, and not being able to stand up to fast. Case in point. I was at the Strand bookstore today (18 miles of books, and not a good-looking person in sight!), when I caught sight of a book I used to read a lot when I was but a lad (Irish Ghost Stories! OooOoooOooh!). Anyway, I hunches over and leaf through it, gingerly recalling my youth, re-reading bits and pieces of stories full of silly fake Irish words. Then a beglassess'd employee looks expectantly at me, one book clutched in her paw, and asks politely "Excuse me". I stand up immediately, and let the woman pass.



Insantly, a billion bursts of white light cloud my vision, the pixies of low blood pressure. They persist for about three solid seconds, and I slump against the opposite stack of shelves. I was transported, dizzily, to a land of pure radiance, and it was pretty scary. I'm waiting for New York's wonky banking laws to stop screwing me, and let me access my damn bank account - I miss food groups.

Oh, blogger, you wacky web thingy. I can't enter in a title for this post. I don't know why. Perhaps because my computer is made entirely out of potatos. Or something.

Anyway, this week's theme (which is almost over! We are masters of timely writing!) is Transit, if you couldn't guess, and it's especially relevant to me right now, as I'm noving to New York City for some reason. I guess. I mean, everyone does eventually, right? Unless you're like James, and live in Chicago, and are like, whatevs*. But given that right now I live in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere, it'll be a nice shift. For example, when bored, I can walk out of my sublet, and see things. As opposed to now, where I basically just get bored and then eat food.

*Whatevs indeed, James.

It's not really too new for me. I've been to New York before, and I know not to look up at them fancy-pants tall buildings (else betray my sorghum-root chewing, squirrel-eatin', hee-haw watching roots), though the last time I was there I got this awful sore throat. It wasn't too bad, since I talked like Tom Waits for a solid week, and got a free cup of tea at this cafe once. So I can't help but wonder if Real Tom Waits gets things like that - people offering him cough drops, throat lozenges, soothing chamomile tea. It must be pretty nice!

Speaking of scary things, I am infested with bird mites. They came from a nest of baby birds that live out on the back porch. Needless to say, the birds no longer live there, and their mites are slowly going away too. Having been infested with things before, though, I gotta say, bird mites are the way to go - they wash off easy, don't leave any horrifying, itchy marks, and barely bite at all.

Though, right, yes, Transit. I take the train. I would take the train to the effing moon if I could. It's like riding in a larger plane, where instead of being surrounded by vacationers, you are surrounded by one of four types of people, which I shall detail thusly.

1. Menonites - there will be dozens of them, and they all leave around Philadelphia. To where? Who knows! Once there was a large family of them on the same train as I, and they had an adorable child. The child, maybe two years old, kept walking back to me and staring. The anxious father, who looked to be about eighteen, would quickly scoop the child up, like I was the devil or something. When the father dropped the child on it's head while disembarking, I couldn't help but feel that my revenge was complete. Then I found out I was deriving joy from a child's injury.

I am good people!

2. Drug Dealers - you will know them, because they are dressed very well. Suspiciously well. Like, shouldn't be riding the train well. Their luggage is nice, their clothes are nice, and their cell phones are shiny and clean. They make poor conversationalists, though, perhaps because they hate the game, or something. Whatever, they're almost as big a bunch of douchebags as the menonites.

3. Old People - there was a time in my life when I didn't have any friends below the age of 65, so I dig old people. They're frequently crazy about Jesus. I once had an old man walk up to me, and ask me if I was a Christian. I responded that yes, I am, I'm Catholic. He then told me that boy, he's sure glad he knows the love of Jesus Christ. And I was like, yep. We then sat in awkward silence for two hours, before he started talking about Pittsburgh. Another time, I sat next to an older black lady, who was accompanying her enfeebled mother aboard the train. We talked about how people who don't believe in evolution are dumb. She was pretty keen on Jesus, now that I think about.

4. Young Jerks - the category that I fall into. They ride the train and talk loudly on their cellular phones about what Paula is doing and omg are you going to Claudine's tonight and Kendra's dating Michael again I thought they broke up! Many of them are trying to be young professionals, to which I respond, ha ha, you wouldn't be riding the train if you were successful, your ass would be on an aeroplane.

Passive Aggression is the only way to meet new people.