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Thursday, September 30, 2004


HUGE, IMPORTANT DEBATE TONIGHT!!

Yeah, great. You guys can watch if you want, but I think I'll skip the big talking point recitation. Frankly, there's nothing that either candidate could say tonight that would change my mind. Even if Kerry's head were to spin around while vomiting forth green filth and reciting Revelations backward, I still wouldn't vote for George W. Bush.

In fall 1976, I was seven and steeped by politics. My parents and their friends, all of whom were very politically active in the infant state of Alaska, would gather together weekly to eat spaghetti, drink cheap Chianti and bitch about Nixon, Ford and the general state of the "fascist" American regime. I provided the entertainment when the conversation would lag, reciting beat poetry and singing Simon and Garfunkle songs. A not atypical upbringing for the only child of aging, unrepentant hippies.

Despite performing like a trained monkey, I enjoyed those nights because I'd get to stay up late and be with the grown ups. However, I hated all the "mean" things my parents and their friends would say about Ford. After all, he was the President and he took care of all of us. How could they call him an idiot and a crook? To me, it was like calling America bad names. I didn't care about Watergate or pardons. What Ford did before was irrelevant. He now wore a suit and protected us. He spoke plainly and simply about beating up the dirty Russians. No guy from Georgia (wherever that was) was going to change my mind with his big words and wishy washy talk.

Those memories came back to me today when I was reading about the debates and pondering how, after all the bullshit of the past three years, Bush can still be up in the polls. By 13 points, if you can believe Gallup (and there is considerable reason not to.)

I want to believe in the American people, I really do. But I have to conclude that, at least collectively, we're seven years old. We just want someone to stand up there in a suit and tell us everything is okay, details be damned. We need an iconic protector, and the Bush campaign has done a masterful job of providing us that.

And before anyone e-mails me about it, yes, I know Ford lost the '76 election. We're a lot dumber now.

Thursday, September 09, 2004

Bush: "Let them Breathe Vanilla-Scented Oxygen"

A group led by a research M.D. from the University of Arizona has discovered that simple house cleaning can significantly reduce asthma symptoms among youth:

http://www.npr.org/features/feature.php?wfId=3907019

Those findings are particularly important for the inner-city, where 20-25% of the youth suffer from the debilitating effects of childhood asthma.

The report states that providing families with a vacuum cleaner, cleaning supplies and clean linen can dramatically help lessen asthma attacks. However, those simple steps aren't being widely taken because they can cost "hundreds of dollars per child," and there is simply no money available.

Let me get this straight . . . we can spend $187 billion (and counting) to occupy a country that was no threat to the United States, but we can't find a few dollars to buy a kid with asthma a vacuum cleaner and new sheets? We can give corporations huge tax breaks and no-bid, cost plus contracts, but we can't spare a few bucks to help a kid make it through gym class without collapsing? (Oh, wait, there are no more gym classes. Can't afford those, either. Well, I guess that's one way of dealing with the problem.)

What the fuck is wrong with this country?!?! Do we really think that the "Founding Fathers" would be proud of what we've become? Say what you want about Jefferson, Washington, Franklin, et al., none of them would admire a country that is willing to break the bank on foreign wars and handouts to the rich while leaving the least of its citizens to gasp like fish out of water for want of basic cleaning supplies.

This election isn't about Iraq. It's not even about the economy, per se. It's about the fundamental principles of this country. It's about our country's soul. We can't afford four more years of morally bankrupt "compassionate conservatism." It's killing us and our children.



Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Nothing Says I Love You Like a Pap Smear

I don't normally jump on gw's verbal miscues because, let's be honest, there'd be little time to do anything else. Plus, most of them are pretty innocuous. However, every once in awhile, one comes along that cannot be ignored. I mean, c'mon, is it really too much to ask that the leader of the free world be able to make it through one unscripted remark without tripping over himself?

http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/nm/20040907/od_nm/odd_bush_dc_3

Thursday, September 02, 2004


Why, dear lord, do you inflict us so . . .

Let's see, on the second night, the republicans were praising their colleagues in Congress who fought to pass the 1964 Civil Rights Act over the obstinate "segregationist democrats." Then, last night, they feature a rant by Zell Miller, a southern "democrat," that sounded like it was piped in straight from the floor of the Alabama House circa 1955: strong defense; no international cooperation; America, your either for us or against us. The only thing missing was a screed against the "uppity negroes."

Of course, you don't need to complain about them if they aren't there: http://www.wonkette.com/archives/rnc-scavenger-hunt-whitest-convention-ever-according-to-the-new-york-times-020519.php

The democrats got straight suckered. The republicans hammered the "Bush is personally liked by everyone" theme. We bought it. And when the time came to take a shot, Kerry demurred, hoping to look like the better man. Last night, they kicked him in the nuts for his trouble.

This is a street fight against absolutely unscrupulous opponents. Bush, Cheney and the rest of the repub leadership are beady-eyed little fuckheads who will grab and twist anything they can to win this thing. Kerry needs to bring the hammer down. Enron, Halliburton, Alabama National Guard, 1000 dead soldiers in Iraq, no WMDs, Iraq prisons, Cheney's "other priorities." It should all be on the table now.

As Mark Tomasson, one of the toughest, meanest bastards I've ever known, used to say before wading into the fray, "fuck those motherfuckers." They want to play, we should make them cry. I'd rather see our guy go down swinging than be overrun by those weasels.

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