I keep waiting for some uplifting news out of Washington, but every day it’s the same lukewarm gruel. The Democratic presidential hopefuls debate and the affair is useless and stupid; the candidates should be talking about income inequality and universal health care, but instead the “big” names spar over driver’s licenses for illegal immigrants. The Republican candidates follow with an equally pitiful showing; they sputter about “moral” values when the leader of their party is the most corrupt and immoral man ever to occupy the Oval Office.
Thomas Jefferson sitting in a room silent and alone was ten times more interesting than any of these so-called political “leaders.”
Our Democracy is tattered and torn and discredited, though the spin masters in the media keep force-feeding us American myths, lies, and legends. Meanwhile, real news is happening, like the fact that President Bush is trying to strike a deal with the Iraqi government, such as it is, that will insure a permanent US presence in Iraq – with military installations and troops to protect Iraq’s oil reserves and infrastructure. Bush claims that the US needs to be in Iraq as a bulwark against Iran, but then, Bush compared Saddam Hussein to Adolf Hitler, and insisted that Iraq posed a dire, imminent threat to our shores.
What Bush wants is a guarantee that American multinational oil companies will gain access to Iraq’s oil. The best way to insure such access is a network of fortified American military installations and troops. This is the central truth underlying all the other lies – the ones about WMD, bringing “democracy” to the Iraqi people (how can one nation give another a political system?) and fighting the War on Terror.
Aside from tax cuts for the wealthiest Americans and endless breaks for corporations, Iraq is the only issue that Bush has pursued with dogged determination. His tools of choice are lies, falsehoods, threats, fear-mongering and empty promises.
Polls show that Americans overwhelmingly hate this Occupation and the havoc it has wrought, though public opinion doesn’t seem to bother Bush one bit. He just keeps chugging toward a permanent military foothold in Iraq and generous concessions to the American oil industry.
Perhaps George W. Bush believes that ten or fifteen years from now, when he has his Presidential library in Crawford, Texas – paid for by generous donations from his corporate cronies – he can rehabilitate his image, in the same way that Richard Nixon morphed from lying scoundrel to “elder statesman.” For all his deviousness and paranoia, Nixon, at least, could formulate a coherent thought in proper English. I can’t imagine a future American president calling on George W for advice or insight, unless he or she wants to understand the finer points of being a buffoon and a disgrace.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Schizophrenia, American-Style
I don’t know how you feel, but when I watch the mainstream media or read the Wall Street Journal for a couple of days running, I get to feeling like a crazy person.
It’s not the empty, sensational reports, or the vapid talking heads trying desperately to make news out of non-news, it’s the utter, unrelenting dissonance contained in the information itself.
For instance, on the one hand we have the sub-prime mortgage crunch, millions of folks defaulting on their home loans, and on the other we have the talking heads – and the endless droning commercials – exhorting Americans to run to the Mall, to Wal-Mart, to Target, to Macy’s, to Old Navy, and shop, shop, shop. Ignore the hard times that are surely coming, ignore your debts, and slap your plastic down, do your part to pump up the profits of corporate America.
Or take the stock market. One day, the Dow Jones plunges 237 points; the next it jumps by 215. One day, investors are scared witless about the credit crunch, the debilitated dollar, oil prices and sluggish housing starts; the next they are sanguine about the very same factors. How can this be?
Obviously, investors don’t have a fucking clue about what’s really going on with the economy. If you ignore Wall Street gambling and simply look at the fundamentals, the US economy looks like a train wreck. When the big bust comes, the super-wealthy will be able to dodge the fallout, while the rest of us will feel the lash and pay the piper.
No wonder Americans pop more anti-depressant medications than any other people on this planet. We’re whipsawed to and fro like palm trees in a Category 5 hurricane by our government and its lapdog, the corporate media.
We’ve passively accepted the bullshit corporate line that consumption is the road to happiness and the goal of life.
Now we’re even told that we can save the planet by buying “green.”
Jesus, no wonder Charles Bukowski holed up in a cheap Hollywood apartment with a fifth of Scotch and never answered the phone or the door.
No wonder Henry Miller retreated to remote Big Sur and stayed put for nearly two decades.
Schizophrenia. Like George W. Bush insisting that America has no plans to remain in Iraq indefinitely, and then, according to the venerable Wall Street Journal, signs a deal (they don’t say with whom) to do just that.
We’re passive, stupid, and easily fooled.
Nothing to do now but deadbolt the door and uncork the Scotch.
It’s not the empty, sensational reports, or the vapid talking heads trying desperately to make news out of non-news, it’s the utter, unrelenting dissonance contained in the information itself.
For instance, on the one hand we have the sub-prime mortgage crunch, millions of folks defaulting on their home loans, and on the other we have the talking heads – and the endless droning commercials – exhorting Americans to run to the Mall, to Wal-Mart, to Target, to Macy’s, to Old Navy, and shop, shop, shop. Ignore the hard times that are surely coming, ignore your debts, and slap your plastic down, do your part to pump up the profits of corporate America.
Or take the stock market. One day, the Dow Jones plunges 237 points; the next it jumps by 215. One day, investors are scared witless about the credit crunch, the debilitated dollar, oil prices and sluggish housing starts; the next they are sanguine about the very same factors. How can this be?
Obviously, investors don’t have a fucking clue about what’s really going on with the economy. If you ignore Wall Street gambling and simply look at the fundamentals, the US economy looks like a train wreck. When the big bust comes, the super-wealthy will be able to dodge the fallout, while the rest of us will feel the lash and pay the piper.
No wonder Americans pop more anti-depressant medications than any other people on this planet. We’re whipsawed to and fro like palm trees in a Category 5 hurricane by our government and its lapdog, the corporate media.
We’ve passively accepted the bullshit corporate line that consumption is the road to happiness and the goal of life.
Now we’re even told that we can save the planet by buying “green.”
Jesus, no wonder Charles Bukowski holed up in a cheap Hollywood apartment with a fifth of Scotch and never answered the phone or the door.
No wonder Henry Miller retreated to remote Big Sur and stayed put for nearly two decades.
Schizophrenia. Like George W. Bush insisting that America has no plans to remain in Iraq indefinitely, and then, according to the venerable Wall Street Journal, signs a deal (they don’t say with whom) to do just that.
We’re passive, stupid, and easily fooled.
Nothing to do now but deadbolt the door and uncork the Scotch.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Poem - Reasons for Joy
Chilly gray afternoon
Hot chocolate
Jazz
Children playing quietly on the rug
Immersed in their childhood
No bombs are falling outside
No militias roam the streets
No Federal agents pounding on our door
No hunger
No disease
American life at the tattered end of the American Dream
Not what it should be
What it could be
Dream deferred
Dream on hold
Dream forgotten
Dream perverted
Dream subverted
Dream diminished
Still we rise and sing
Write our chapters in the big book
Hot chocolate
Jazz
Children playing quietly on the rug
Immersed in their childhood
No bombs are falling outside
No militias roam the streets
No Federal agents pounding on our door
No hunger
No disease
American life at the tattered end of the American Dream
Not what it should be
What it could be
Dream deferred
Dream on hold
Dream forgotten
Dream perverted
Dream subverted
Dream diminished
Still we rise and sing
Write our chapters in the big book
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Poem - The Trick
The Trick
Is to cut through the everyday noise & clutter
Spam & junk mail,
Empty solicitations from synthesized voices
The trick is to have the cajones to grab a sharp knife &
Slice through tendon, cartilage & muscle, open the bone
To the light of beauty & longing
The trick is working the jackhammer & the dynamite
For as long as it takes to bring down the walls of illusion & deceit
The trick is to stand naked, alone & unashamed
On the steps of the temple where nobody hides behind money or medals
Or Jesus
Can you do it?
Me neither
Is to cut through the everyday noise & clutter
Spam & junk mail,
Empty solicitations from synthesized voices
The trick is to have the cajones to grab a sharp knife &
Slice through tendon, cartilage & muscle, open the bone
To the light of beauty & longing
The trick is working the jackhammer & the dynamite
For as long as it takes to bring down the walls of illusion & deceit
The trick is to stand naked, alone & unashamed
On the steps of the temple where nobody hides behind money or medals
Or Jesus
Can you do it?
Me neither
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Think Less, Live More
If you think too much about the improbability of human life it will drive you crazy. Around the bend. Into a psychotic state and a strait-jacket. Or onto a barstool in the middle of a weekday afternoon, staring at your own image in the mirror above the bottles.
Pondering the physical elements that we try and protect ourselves against is daunting: fires, floods, earthquakes, hurricanes, typhoons, tornadoes, tsunamis. Add the crap human beings create like war, anarchy, genocide, pogroms; throw in the emotional storms that buffet every human life sooner or later – loss, jealousy, envy, greed, hatred, remorse, anger -- and it’s a wonder more people don’t go totally apeshit.
In fact, it’s not what happens during the course of a lifetime that’s so amazing, but what doesn’t happen.
We fear the dark and we fear the random act. For instance, you stop at 7-11 on your way home from work to buy a six-pack of beer, a bag of potato chips and a pack of gum, and as you’re checking out a meth-addicted kid with a shaved head and a Nazi swastika tattooed on his cheek bursts into the store with a fully-loaded assault rifle and starts shooting. Before you can react, a bullet slices through your skull, instantly terminating your life. Wrong place, wrong moment, you’re time here is over; you exit as a tragic crime statistic.
We want life to be predictable and safe and easy and meaningful, even though one can argue that it’s unpredictable, dangerous, difficult and meaningless. We’re born into a death sentence, and unless you’re into religious hocus-pocus and believe in everlasting life in an air-conditioned heaven, it’s a bleak deal to contemplate.
The wealthy have innumerable ways to inoculate themselves against natural calamity and random acts of mayhem. During the recent Southern California wildfires, folks in certain high-profile zip codes enjoyed concierge fire protection, courtesy of their insurance company. Gated communities, private schools, boutique medical care, organically grown food all serve to increase the odds and decrease the risks.
Rich, poor or in between, living takes bravery. Open the door, step outside, keep your eyes and ears wide open, but don’t think too much. It’s better that way.
Pondering the physical elements that we try and protect ourselves against is daunting: fires, floods, earthquakes, hurricanes, typhoons, tornadoes, tsunamis. Add the crap human beings create like war, anarchy, genocide, pogroms; throw in the emotional storms that buffet every human life sooner or later – loss, jealousy, envy, greed, hatred, remorse, anger -- and it’s a wonder more people don’t go totally apeshit.
In fact, it’s not what happens during the course of a lifetime that’s so amazing, but what doesn’t happen.
We fear the dark and we fear the random act. For instance, you stop at 7-11 on your way home from work to buy a six-pack of beer, a bag of potato chips and a pack of gum, and as you’re checking out a meth-addicted kid with a shaved head and a Nazi swastika tattooed on his cheek bursts into the store with a fully-loaded assault rifle and starts shooting. Before you can react, a bullet slices through your skull, instantly terminating your life. Wrong place, wrong moment, you’re time here is over; you exit as a tragic crime statistic.
We want life to be predictable and safe and easy and meaningful, even though one can argue that it’s unpredictable, dangerous, difficult and meaningless. We’re born into a death sentence, and unless you’re into religious hocus-pocus and believe in everlasting life in an air-conditioned heaven, it’s a bleak deal to contemplate.
The wealthy have innumerable ways to inoculate themselves against natural calamity and random acts of mayhem. During the recent Southern California wildfires, folks in certain high-profile zip codes enjoyed concierge fire protection, courtesy of their insurance company. Gated communities, private schools, boutique medical care, organically grown food all serve to increase the odds and decrease the risks.
Rich, poor or in between, living takes bravery. Open the door, step outside, keep your eyes and ears wide open, but don’t think too much. It’s better that way.
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