Bush's Iraq Mess

Who defines,
Who labels,
Who creates
The phrases we trade in?

Who turned "liberal"
Into a dirty word?

Who tried to rename them "freedom fries"?
Who endeavored mightily to reoriginate "the nuclear option"?

I think you get the picture,
You don't have to be George Orwell
To know that controlling language is controlling minds.

So here is a suggestion:

In comments across the blogosphere
In talks with friends,
In converstations and chat rooms,
In print and prose,
In parody and post...

Outloud
And louder than outloud...

On the air
And off the air...

In short--
Everywhere...

Let's start calling it what it is:
"Bush's Iraq Mess"
"Bush's Iraq Mess"
"Bush's Iraq Mess"
"Bush's Iraq Mess..."

[Some thoughts after reading Cole's brilliant: Sometimes you are just screwed.]

Visions of the Future:Christian Despair versus Scientific Hope

In 1993 the great visionary Arthur C. Clarke published The Hammer of God. In his book Clarke imagined a comet on a collision course with earth in the year 2110. His vision of humanity 105 years from now is redolent with optimism.

The main thrust of this post is to present Clarke's scientific optimism in contrast with the Christian Right's ugly vision of our future.

But first, to get you in the mood, allow me to remind you that a few weeks ago Sony Corp. filed a patent for a non-invasive way of transmitting data directly into the brain. Remember also, that in 1993 when Clarke was writing, Sony's walkman was still state of the art.

Now consider the following passage:

"The real breakthrough came when--after a whole generation of medical specialists had declared it impossible--the Brainman was perfected. A memory unit storing terabytes of information was linked by a fiberoptic cable to a snugly fitting skullcap carrying literally billions of atom-sized terminals, making painless contact with the skin of a the cranium. The Brainman was so invaluable not only for entertainment but for education that within a single generation everyone who could afford it had acquired one--and had accepted baldness as the necessary price ..."

"Although the Brainman's potential for vicarious experience--especially erotic, thanks to the swiftly developing technology of hedonics--was recognized at once, its more serious applications were not neglected. Instant knowledge and skills became available through whole libraries of specialized "memory modules" or memnochips. Most appealing of all, however, was the "total diary" which allowed one to store and then relive precious moments of life--and ever to re-edit them to bring them closer to the heart's desire."
--Arthur C. Clarke in The Hammer of God

Clearly Clarke is a heady fellow with a Mozartean ear for the the language of the future. That passage really gives a taste of Clarke's vision and flavor, but only a trifling dose of his optimism.

For that, let me refer to a wee passage in regards to the United Nations:

"The senator approved the U.N. resolution, triggered by the mass slaughters of the Twentieth Century, which banned the ownership by States or individuals of all weapons that could injure more than the single person targeted."

So in Clarke's 1993 vision the arms race is over,-- both for individuals and for States. The method of achievement for this boon is the United Nations. Clarke's view is a calm and cerebral picture of a world grown up. Of a world that excepts the necessity of International Law. And of a world that has got on with maximizing human potential.

Now let's contrast that with a Christian Fundamentalist's view of our future. The following is from an Amazon review of the first Left Behind novel:

"Piloting his 747, Rayford Steele is musing about his wife Irene's irritating religiosity and contemplating the charms of his "drop-dead gorgeous" flight attendant, Hattie. First Irene was into Amway, then Tupperware, and now it's the Rapture of the Saints--the scary last story in the Bible in which Christians are swept to heaven and unbelievers are left behind to endure the Antichrist's Tribulation. Steele believes he'll put the plane on autopilot and go visit Hattie. But Hattie's in a panic: some of the passengers have disappeared! The Rapture has happened, abruptly driverless cars are crashing all over, and the slick, sinister Romanian Nicolae Carpathia plans to use the UN to establish one world government and religion. Resembling "a young Robert Redford" and silver-tongued in nine languages, Carpathia is named People's "Sexiest Man Alive."

No calm and cerebral view of the future here. In the Christian view of the future the world has quite literally gone to hell. Cars are smashing wildly; never mind into what or who -- God doesn't give a God damn. (How postively pschotic of Him.)

More telling is that the tool for Hell's mastery is the United Nations. Now you know why gothic Christians hate the U.N. so much. It is the devil's way of asserting world government and world religion.

Lest you think this pschotic Chrisitan future-rot is cofined to one book, here is an Amazon excerpt from Book 5 of the best selling series:

"As the book opens, Hattie Durham, the former airline attendant and mistress of the antichrist, Nicolae Carpathia, is wracked with confusion about what to do with her illegitimate child, whose birth date is coming due. Rayford Steele, the airline pilot who flies Carpathia's plane, is ambivalent about the mounting evidence that his late wife, Amanda, may have been a false believer. Buck, the ace newspaper reporter, and Chloe, his wife, are debating whether to have a child when the future of the world is so uncertain. And all of the world's thousands of believers are gathering in Jerusalem for a stadium rally, which will lead to a showdown with Nicolae Carpathia."

What a horrific vision of our future.
What death and dismay.
What sad suffering.
What anger and violence.

This is the Christian vision of our future?

Yes.

To solidify that thought for you, to convince you that their vision really is that sour and sinister, let's introduce another vision of the future by another great Christian--Pat Robertson and his novel "The End of the Age."

Like Clarke, Robertson also has a comet aimed at earth. Pat's though is slated to ding the planet in the year 2000. (God likes nice round numbers for his calamities.) Unlike Clarke's novel, in which human ingenuity, sacrifice, and some luck cause the comet to barely miss... Robertson's comet is aimed by God himself.

And God doesn't miss.
At least not a pychotic God:

"In A.D. 2000, a flaming asteroid strikes Earth between Hawaii and California. The consequent tsunami, earthquakes, and volcanism wipe out virtually all life around the northern Pacific rim. This is only the beginning of a plot that unfolds according to the last-days scenario in the biblical Book of Revelation. Successive U.S. presidents commit suicide and are murdered by agents of the Antichrist (aka Mark Beaulieu), who then becomes ruler of a new world order centered in Babylon. Things go from bad to worse, except for the "unaffected" (i.e., those who accept Jesus Christ as their savior), and even they suffer while often becoming guerrilla warriors during the years before . . . Armageddon, of course. Finally, "the reign of Jesus Christ and His saints" begins."

My favorite self-quote has always been:

"The future belongs to those who imagine it best."

But, I live in a country where increasing numbers are actually imagining a future that is grizly and gothic. And so I must amend:

"The future must not belong to those who imagine it worst."

A war for the future going on.
Who will control humanity's self-fulfilling prophecies?

People like Arthur Clarke? Filled with such goodness.
Or fundamental Chrisitans? Filled with such sick sadism?

Make no mistake.
It is a war.
And their vision must be turned to salt.

These are sick people --sadists as plain as day-- and they should have absolutely no say in the future of a humane world.

Friday Robo-Cat blogging(an internet first)

I know...
Some of you nasties
Out there are musing:
Too bad the one to the right isn't the robot
Else I'd get a second,
On my first mortgage...
On my main ranch.

Well hold that mortgage lien
You fiend...

It's the kitten on the left that's for sale
Sans the lingerie...

Go check out the videos...
Not only is it incredible,
But it reinforces what I've been whispering
For the last five years:

The Japanese
And their robot technology
Will dominate the 21st century.

Do ask! Do tell!(The Lord said "Be fruity and multiply your troops")

My oh my.
Now here's a spot of alley gossip to stir your ire:



"One officer suggested Wednesday that American military involvement could last 'many years.'"

Many years.
As in many.

But did you know,
I mean REALLY,
Did you know:
That insurgents' feet are now being taped
To drive us into this ugly future?!?

"He said the foot of one of the attackers, in a marketplace bombing last week that killed 22 people in south Baghdad, had been found taped to his vehicle's accelerator ... The implication was that those planning the attacks wanted to be sure that the vehicles would continue to their targets even if the drivers were killed by American or Iraqi gunfire as they approached."

Obviously they too,
Want to stay the course.
And so of course...
Does our leadership insist on
Staying the course.

No blinking allowed:
It's the manly thing to do.

And so...
Our own gallant forces
Must also become true believers
In a long term Iraq debacle...

Listen as this American officer
Boldly walks us into
Our trillion dollar debt-ridden future:

"I think it's going to succeed in the long run, even if it takes years, many years," he said. On a personal note, he added that he, like many American soldiers, had spent long periods of duty related to Iraq, and he said: "We believe in the mission that we've got. We believe in it because we're in it, and if we let go of the insurgency and take our foot off its throat, then this country could fail and go back into civil war and chaos."

So there's your future in a wing-nut-shell:
Years...
As in many.
And many,
As in years...

300 billion to the red right now,
Accelerating towards 1000 billion.
Our hands and feet taped to the controls.

Just so,
1001 Arabian nights extend into 10,001 nights.
It is an inevitable as Baghdad is dusty.
And dry.
And billowing with flies.

But at least
There is one fun conflict
In the offing.

At least...
For those of you who adore situational comedies.

How are they going to staff this war of many years?

The answer is -- They can't.
They are going to have to DRAFT.
And then what?

Here's what:

I --and thousands of others-- will suddenly become as gay as meadowlarks.

"Do ask! Do tell!" will be our motto.
My how the cocks will crow.
Jesus,
Thousands of us
Will be buggering one another to avoid Iraq.
Do ask! Do tell! Do watch!
On guard everyone!
Grab the nearest gay blade,
And blow some sweet nothings
Into his ear...

When the draft comes...
The Christian right will have to "swallow the big one"
And allow gays into the military.
Because suddenly EVERYONE WILL BE GAY,
As in unhappy...

And so their policy will change overnight.
That's the comedy:
Situational ethics!
Staring that bastion of timeless morality:
The Republican Christian Right.

Starring,
The folksy folks,
For whom...
The only thing that matters more,
Than their crude atemporality,
Is their rude expediency.
So director:
Queue the laugh track.
Because: We need the troops.

Suddenly,
Overnight,
--the Christians will say--
--with grins--
--while wiping their double chins--
Gays are okay in the military
But they still can't marry.
That's still a no-no!
Naughty naughty...
Don't offend my Christian sensibilities with that.

But here's at last is the chance
For the campy
To decamp.

For the Gaylords...
At last,
To go and fight for their nation!
Out of the closet,
And onto the theatre of war!

A chance,
To impress the religious folks back home,
Into someday perhaps treating them,
Like human beings...

And then truly we will be a New Nation at war:

Onward Christian Gay Soldiers...Onward.
Onward to Mesopotamia!
Don't forget your scarfs.

I wonder what the Koran says about gay heathen soldiers invading the holy land?

The Bush-Iraq War mess will get
--if possible--
Even messier.
Even queerer.
In other words:
You ain't seen nothing yet.

(I betcha it's gonna happen:
How about a 3 dollar bill
With "W" on the cover?)

Open Source Politcal Ads:The Swiftboat Solution

Over at:

There is a wonderful guest post by someone named Morbo.

He is one of the first I've read who truly understands the American body politic. Morbo gets what the right-wing practices:

It ain't about logic folks.
It ain't even about truth.
It's about whose got the swiftest boat to the slickest ads.

Allow me to quote Morbo and then elaborate on his theme in a truly revolutionary direction:

"Burn this into your brain: The fact that our side is right means nothing. Facts mean nothing. What really matters is how our side is presented to the American public. This is where we absolutely, positively cannot afford to drop the ball.
Which brings me to — television commercials. Yep. We need them now until November of 2006. The good news is, the commercials practically write themselves. I’m not a soulless, highly paid political consultant, but even I can see them in my head."

Morbo is close to something incredibly earth shaking.
Something I've posted to other bulletin sites.
Something that is staring the political parties in the face.
Something that they turn from because it scares them in a radical way.

In essence:

Not only do commercials practically write themselves
THEY NOW PRODUCE THEMSELVES!

This is incredibly powerful.
The internet has created a new model: Open-source political ads.

Remember MoveOn's political ad contest: Bush in 30 seconds?

That changed everything:

"The leaders of the grassroots, Internet-based political phenomenon MoveOn.org were surprised when their national contest to create an anti- President Bush TV ad attracted hundreds of thousands of participants."

This is revolutionary.
Political parties can now conceivably create commercials for free.
If they are keen, henceforth they need pay only for broadcast time.

But that means they will have to cut cords with Madison avenue.
That's like cutting cords with Billy Gate's operating system.
Open source political ads?
The group mind cutting your production costs to nil?

Unthinkable for the mainstream parties?
For sure.

Very thinkable for a third party?
Very.

It is said that a penny candle caused Moscow to burn.
Quite possibly, penny ads may cause a third party to finally catch fire.


[Aside: See one of my first post to this blog Osama bin remembered for a open-source ad that could have won Kerry the election.]

Senator McCain forgives... Why Truth Doesn't Matter 30 Years Later

Senator McCain is a war hero.
But you know that already...
Don't you?

Senator McCain was a Navy pilot
during the Vietnam War.
He was shot down
while on a bombing run.
He was tortured and horrifically mistreated as a POW.
But you know that too...
Don't you?

Of course you do.

And that's because McCain got to tell his story
over and over again.

All because Big Media
made the choice,
to have ears and eyes and a mouth
for McCain...

And so Big Media obliged McCain in the telling,
retelling,
and reselling of his story.

There's an old saying that,
to the victor goes the history books...
which is interesting,
but wrong.

Instead it should read:
To the country that controls Big Media goes the history books,
and the telling and reselling of that history.

And so,
Senator McCain is a war hero...
And Senator McCain gets to tell his story
in pulp and bulk,
in sobs and rending heart tears...
about how badly he was mistreated,
by the population of brown-skinned people,
that his Nation,
cluster bombed with stone-age ferocity.

In the 2000 Presidential campaign,
while being interviewed
McCain, the war hero,
aboard his bus,
the so-called "Straight Talk Express"
said:

"I'll call, right now, my interrogator that tortured me and my friends a 'gook,' OK, and you can quote me," McCain said last week. Adding that all his fellow prisoners of war used the same term, McCain said his tormentors "were cruel, mean, vicious, sometimes sadistic people. And 'gook' is the kindest description I can give them, the most printable."
Then, after taking a two-minute phone call, McCain returned to the subject unprompted: "I hated the gooks," he said. "And I will hate them for as long as I live."

One can only shudder
at the horrors McCain
must have endured,
to have such enduring hate...

But sometimes,
late at night,
when it's quiet,
in one of those silly moments
of walking in another Indian's mocassins,
which I suppose,
a good Christian ought to try
now and then,
I wonder what it must have been like to be a Vietnamese.

What would it have been like
To be barefoot in a rice paddy,
and have those untouchable and aloof
jets of death
sweep overhead
and rain destruction
on my country,
on my Rain forest,
on my village,
on my family,
and then shriek away with a happy wag of the tail?

I suspect I'd be pretty sore about it.

And that if I ever caught one of those
well-fed and well-bathed pilots,
I suspect,
I want to bayonet him in the groin too
and pull his wings off,
and make him confess outloud:
"I am a black criminal and I have performed the deeds of an air pirate."

But hell,
what do I know?
After all I am just a well-fed and well-bathed American too.
And dammit...
if we Americans
decide its right to drop 8 million tons of bombs
and spray 1.84 million gallons of poisonous dioxin
on some brown-skinned, bare-footed savages,

and if somehow one of those low creatures
should manage
to shoot one of us down...

Why'd they better treat us
according to the Geneva conventions.
Dammit.

Right Senator McCain?
Right war hero?
Right big-time American media?
They had better,
by golly dammit,
treat us well.
Right?

Furthermore,
being well-fed, well-clad, and well-bathed,
if in 30 years one of us Americans
should be running for President,
as a big time Senator,
and a war hero,
it will constitute a momentous Big Media moment
when that Senator shall stand up,
and say outloud that he forgives what was done to him,
after he got shot down...
while on a bombing run
over stone age Vietnam.

And when the Senator who would be President,
utters those courageous words
of forgiveness...
that will be another lavish Christian instant,
of big-handedness,
to be broadcasted
and rebroadcasted,
celebrated,
and re-celebrated.

Big media rejoice!
We Americans have such large hearts!

Now lets
flash forward to today...
here we sit,
a few more years gone past
after the great Senator's public announcement
of forgiveness,
and,
thirty years past
the end of the Vietnam war...

Isn't it high time
we let the
dioxin-laced children,
of Vietnam know



in case they haven't heard,



that they've been forgiven?



Yes children.
You've been
forgiven for the great atrocities
committed by your ancestors
on the body and mind of that great American war hero,
that great jet pilot in the sky,
that great supporter of the Geneva conventions,
Senator John McCain.

Children please pay attention!

Senator McCain,
the illustrious Senator from America,
wants you to know
that "He"
forgives what your ancestors did to him long ago
After he dropped bombs on their heads...

Aren't you happy?
Smile children... smile.


(Note: Go here for the children's story big American media hasn't the guts to tell you.)