I would have prefered to get a better shot, but these boys nearly ran us down. On three occasions, at the noon Monday bannering vigil, we were treated with these hecklers. The first time, Esther and I were crossing the street. (To hold a banner on the other side.) We were halfway to the median and this SUV started bearing down on us. We held a banner extended between us. Esther was behind me and as the SUV sped up, I slowed my pace. Esther was oblivious, struggling to hurry across in any case. As their engine roared, I stopped, waving my arms in admonishment as they finally veered around us. There wasn’t time for a picture, neither was I ready when they passed again, this time to swerve toward us on the curb. Yelling the usual teenager profanities, laughing. They saw the camera and on this pass decided to turn away into the alley between Nevada and Weber. I’m meaning to check if they park their car there.
Monthly Archives: October 2006
Rove wants to project a sense of humor
Bushies laughing at Fundies? What a strange story. We learned recently that the Bush White House has been referring to its right-wing fundamentalist base as “nuts.” Rove leaked it, but denies it. Sixty Minutes interviewed an Evangelical leader who professed concerted offense. The GOP biting the hand that feeds it? And right before the election? For whose ears might this story be intended?
Evangelical Christians may be grievously put off, but who else are they going to vote for? Will this gaffe be enough to drive them into the arms of Democratic representatives? Do you think so? The nuts are no doubt used to being called plenty worse by their own grandmothers.
As long as Bush delivers the Evangelical goods, expanding the reach of Christianity by conquest or by killing the heathens outright, the Fundies couldn’t care what names Bush calls them. By gosh, the foul-mouthed idiot has practically delivered Armageddon, that crafty little dry-drunk bastard, who is he calling “nuts?!”
This bit of Rovean egg-on-self is for the benefit of disaffected conservative voters. Voters who might be drawn back to the Bush cabal with even this weak hint of common sense in the Republican administration.
Of course there are signs of intelligence in the GOP. They’re slick as foxes. Unfortunately, they’re in the henhouse and we’re the hens.
Lynne Stewart and our freedom
There is no recent case more chilling to our civil rights than the efforts by the Bush Adminstration to jail for 30 years, the defense lawyer, Lynne Stewart. Today was her sentencing date, and I have yet to see any news report to how she fared. I think that her letter to the judge that is presented on her defense website shows the type of human being she really is.
Compare her to a Dick Cheney or a Donald Rumsfield, who are folk that truly do deserve jail time and in a very big way too. Then one can see how sick our US society actually is in that they get to walk free, while she gets shuffled into a cell for basically just doing her job.
Eavesdropping steak and potatoes
Israeli President Moshe Katsav, head of the Likud Party, has been charged by the Israeli police of rape and eavesdropping. He is accused by ten women of rape, and he is accused of eavesdropping. He is being asked to resign, and he’s expected to resign.
For eavesdropping? How silly!
Rape and eavesdropping. You don’t accuse a killer of murder and loitering. It’s not meat and a side order of potatoes, it’s meat AND potatoes. Rape AND eavesdropping. I guess it’s no small thing, eavesdropping: a president, wiretapping the phones of his subjects and associates.
Our own Chief of Misbehavior is not only accused of eavesdropping, he’s admitted to eavesdropping. He’s confessed. No amount of wrangling with the law retroactively can render illegal actions legal. Let’s ask President Bush to resign. Let him know it’s expected of him.
For the love of our war profits
The Home Front Cares. This event screams out for parody. The Gazette ran “For the Love of Our Troops” from the website above inside its entertainment pages on Friday, the same time it put the Quaker EWO Boots stuff up on the front page. Here is just a first run idea of how to counter this event:
FOR THE LOVE OF OUR UNGODLY PROFITS – HELP US KEEP ON MAKING A KILLING!
$2,500 a Plate Dinner Brought to you by Locknoheed Corporation and the rest of the Colorado Springs Military-Industrial Complex, the trashy local rag, the Colorado Slumlords Association, Mayor Rivera on behalf of Curious George Dubya to thank the US troops for slaughtering off half a million dirty Arab civilians PLUS them dirty Pashtuns of Afghanistan too. So sad some of you good ol’ boys got hurt, too.
5:30 PM, November 8, 2006 Antlers Hotel. Be there, or be shelled! You’ll get food, bad country music, and bullshit philosophy from a basketball coach, and all at the very low price of $2,500 a gold seat!
Leaflet brought to you by peace activist groups who support bringing our Troops Home Now. We’ll be there with you protesting this war without end.
Five thousand Iraqis
Johns Hopkins has calculated that 655,000 Iraqis have died as a result of the US invasion of their country. Six Hundred Fifty Five Thousand.
Quite a difference from the 30,000 by Bush’s estimate, “give or take a thousand.” Or the 45,000 by the official media counts. Or Lancet’s original 100,000 and later 250,000. Both those numbers were contested too, even as they were now probably conservative.
Most people who know that civilian casualties have been understated are still refuting the 655,000. ” I’m not sure the count is that high, but it’s high I’m sure.” Critical thinking without the why. Johns Hopkins methods, like the Lancet’s are peer reviewed for all to see. Our government and its supporters are the only ones to refute the number. When have they yet proven to speak any truth at all?
I’ll tell you I believe the new figure. I read about how it was calculated, based on surveys and statistical studies, with the same means as are used elsewhere in other populations and other catastrophes. I cannot believe, cannot fathom, cannot mourn 650,000 Iraqi lives destroyed by American aggression. What I can conceptualize is the 5,000 more. Tell me you caught a fish one foot and one half inch long, and I’m inclined to believe you measured it.
For those who want to compare the 655,000 to how many Iraqis would have died under Sadam’s continued reign, the number is already taken into account. Let me quote the latest study:
As many as 654,965 more Iraqis may have died since hostilities began in Iraq in March 2003 than would have been expected under pre-war conditions
Eyes Wide Open for friends only
An Air Force soldier participated in our candlelight vigil tonight. A vigil held at the Colorado Springs Eyes Wide Open Exhibit, for the lives lost in the Iraq War. He spoke about losing a close friend, and about his friends who are deployed in Iraq for whom he fears. He read a poem he’d written about looking at the names of the casualties everyday and hoping, praying it would be no one he knows.
Did he miss the point of the 2,700 boots?
If I try to be charitable, I’d say the soldier added a human aspect to the ceremony, not just his grief, and his fear, but the self-centeredness of a soldier’s world view. It certainly made me irritated. The rest of us were here, apparently, to give him company in his fear.
I was not.
He introduced himself, Sam, an Air Force enlistee, and a student at the Colorado College. He’s gone to basic training but has yet to be deployed to the war. I’d seen him recite at a poetry gathering the year before. He goes around campus in his fatigues, often fresh from training. My guess is he’s among many college recruits who serve the military by living among students to project an air of normalcy about the military.
Tonight Sam wore a leather jacket with a skull insignia on the back, with the slogan “where do special forces go when they die? They go to hell to regroup.” (or so)
Enlistee Sam fish-out-of-water spoke tonight of dreading when he’d be sent to war, I was listening but didn’t hear that his disposition toward warfare had changed by developments since the last time I saw him. At the poetry reading he spoke of planning to bringing back his war experiences through the eyes of a poet. Most of the other student poets looked aside as he read. Too polite to roll their eyes. The eyes at the vigil were wiser than mine.
There are some attendees who are turned off by the religiosity of gatherings such as the vigil, I could not bear the banality of this foolish enlistee, worrying for himself and his friends, thinking not at all to question the work he was doing or the profound repercussions upon the lives of so many countless thousand innocents.
Two soldiers remembered
We traipsed up to Denver to see the RMPJC Eyes Wide Open display in advance. I’d like to describe two pairs of boots in particular.
One represented a young soldier from Oregon. Someone had added a snapshot, his smile drew my eye. There was also a letter from his sister, who’d been planning to greet him home only a week later.
Another pair of boots represented a Coloradan soldier whose parents had requested his name not be mentioned in the memorial. How sad. People come with flowers and gifts, pictures and flags to adorn the boots. Siblings come, and high school friends, and fellow soldiers.
For every soldier, particularly one who’d been stationed nearby, there are dozens of comrades who come to look for their buddy, to see that he was not overlooked, regardless the antiwar sentiment.
When parents have their child’s name removed, it doesn’t mean the boots. The boots are part of the statistic, the casualties. The number of American soldiers killed belongs to us. Bought and paid for by the US taxpayer. I like to think too, an entry into the accounts payable, for these bastards in charge.
And who are they, those ultra-patriot parents, to take their child’s name from the ranks of his friends? Who are they to presume that he doesn’t want to be visited, remembered fondly, missed, mourned, thanked.
I felt tears of loss for Sargeant Eyerly of Oregon with the million dollar smile, in his uniform, only 23 years old. And I feel sad for the unnamed Colorado boy whose parents don’t think his memory deserves a little more than the short life he got.
Their son was used by the military, his parents didn’t interfere then. Now he’s being used by the anti-military. But he’s still gone. He probably would not wish that his short life have passed into obscurity without so much refection.
As an organizer for the event, I of course do know the name, and the name of the parents. What immoral prigs to put politics above their son’s memory.
For You
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Some days as fierce as a tiger.
Others as fragile as spun sugar.
Some days as close as skin.
Others as distant as Polaris.
Some days an easy stroll down a shaded path.
Others scree and crampons and dangerous crevasses.
You never know.
I never know.
Don’t give up on me.
Eyes Wide Open Minus 279
Why don’t we reflect on the 279 US soldiers who lost their lives in Afghanistan, too? I think it simply because the AFSC/ Quakers almost universally vote Democratic Party. They don’t want the public to ‘reflect on the true costs of the Afghan war’ while most liberal Democratic Party voters continue to support such. And because of that, the Eyes Wide Open has its eyes sewed wide shut regarding Afghanistan. The AFSC, it seems, will have us only reflect on US troops who died in Iraq.
I have not been much of a backer of this top down AFSC bringing of Eyes Wide Open to Denver and Colorado Springs anyway. How top down? I would say that the main impetus for bringing this exibition to Colorado came from outside the state, and not from within. Discussion was very limited and completely shut off once the honchos had their thing going.
PLUS,this fetishist AFSC focus on the boots of US GIs is a reflection of the constant US nationalist fetishism that focuses on ‘supporting our troops’. They are not OUR troops and we should not be just focusing on the dead GIs’ boots and tags while relegating to the minimalist side the consideration of the deaths of the victims of these US troops. These troops were paid for by our taxes stolen and misused by the government, but they are not my troops. Nor yours, for that matter. So why do we memorialize them as if they were something so very much more special than their victims? Why, AFSC?
And this controlling top down organizing by the Quakers has me peeved. Who do they think they are to try to limit other points of view other than their own pacifist ones at these Fall antiwar events? If the Afghans and Iraqis try to kick the US out of their countries using armed force, then so be it. One gets a little tired of the constant US pacifist Christian messaging, pontificating to other people to non-violently resist their own US government’s violence. These sanctimonious people would have had the Jews of the Warsaw ghetto turning the other cheek to the Nazis even! Defintiely, nobody should feel obligated to not bring their own materials and posters to Eyes Wide Open just because the AFSC tells them not to. They have some damn nerve trying to censor off views other than those parallel with their own. Yes they do.
As an atheist, I will help set up this nominally antiwar exhibit. At least, it will be seen by the press as such. But we sure need a more secular antiwar movement in the future, with the ability to reach out to more than just the liberal church goers. The thing about liberal Christian pacifists, is that they demand that others not just reject the US warmaking but that they do it only for the same reasons that liberal pacifists do. They keep the antiwar movement small, by excluding the majority of people that actually might want to oppose US militarism for reasons other than religiosity.
Anyway, I remember the 279 US troops who have lost their lives in Afghanista. And what’s more, I remember the country of Afghanistan we have torn to shreds. Reflect on that, AFSC.
Denver not Colorado Springs
The Eyes Wide Open exhibit is in Denver. The 2,700 boots span the green between City Hall and the State Capitol Building. The news reports that the memorial was not as welcomed in Colorado Springs.
A friend of mine reacted to the Colorado Springs City Council deciding to have nothing to do with the EWO Iraq War Memorial exhibit. She called it a “damn shame.” I related her words to the council today.
“It’s a damn shame, she said, that the city is unwilling to support our troops in a reverential fashion, it’s a shame the boys see only the city’s seedy tributes.”
“The city offers pawn shops to the troops, conveniently located across from the base on B-street, to prey on the financial plight of those young men. Check cashing services and furniture rental joints offer similar rip-offs. The city is happy to collect the sales tax from those activities.
“Likewise the city pays tribute with strip bars and sex shops along B-Street to prey on the soldier’s other vices. The city is pleased to collect those sales taxes.
“The soldiers are offered dealership lots filled with cars they cannot afford, but do purchase, on bad credit terms, with high insurance rates, to drive around the few months they are here between assignments.
“So it’s a damn shame the city can live off the soldiers, can tout the patriotic benefit even from their sacrifices overseas, but cannot see itself rising to the occasion of honoring the soldiers killed in the line of duty.”
I’ll admit it’s too bad that only the antiwar activists are coming forward with memorials to the fallen soldiers. I don’t see why it should be our responsibility at all. If we had our choice there would be no young men and women being sent to fight these dirty mercenary wars.
If you don’t like our memorial, do your own. But don’t sit back and pay lip service to the men and women dying in Iraq, meanwhile running a city off their government paychecks, disability checks and survivor benefits.
The virtual world of the global marketplace
Wow. We’ve been trying for several years, a group of friends and I, to get our local public radio station KRCC to add Democracy Now to their news lineup. Nope, we’re told. Nope. Too one-sided.
And then they add Marketplace, a daily homage to the stockmarket.
We tried call-in campaigns, petition drives, we’ve even had Amy Goodman come speak on the campus twice and she filled the venues with audiences of mostly KRCC listeners.
KRCC was not disposed, no space available on the lineup, nope, sorry, no. And the dealings have not been above board. Listeners calling in were not told that they were among a multitude. Mention of the petition efforts, or the speaking engagements, was not made on the air. It’s been such an uphill battle, in this ultra conservative city, that petitioners meet people who’d signed already in years past, who ask “what, didn’t that happen already?” They’re no longer even tuning in anymore to KRCC to know.
I check in on KRCC every once in a while, and this morning at 91.5 on the FM dial, what do I hear? Smack in the middle of morning drive-time, a new show. Marketplace or something. Business Talk. As if the news is not already dominated by corporate press releases and corporate mouthpieces trying to direct stock market consumer confidence! And it was atrocious!
Regular NPR news itself is comprised of stories underwritten and packaged by corporate interests. Listen to any one of them and ask yourself, who wants me to know this? Chances are it’s a military contractor, or someone bidding on a water project, or an oil company hoping to ease your anxiety about Global Warming, or a chemical conglomerate wanting to impress you with the scope of human progress. A whole host of pharmaceutical underwriters give NPR reason not dwell on the 25 millions, entire generations, of Africans dying of aids.
The regular NPR stories are broadcast to give you a sense of the bloodless global economy. I guess the irregular work is done by shows like Marketplace, to pretend to report to stockholders and investors in direct terms.
You very likely do not have stock, but they’re talking to you. Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous was not for the rich and famous to watch. You can’t afford what they’re showing you, but you enjoy it vicariously, and most important your confidence is boosted by the belief that it’s there should you ever overcome your bills, or win the lottery.
National Public Media’s MARKETPLACE. Wow! Corporate press releases designed to stimulate stock values, and commentary designed to give the stimulation a simulation of being in the investor’s interest.
In five minutes I heard about a $40 million mansion for sale on Rhode Island, a rare occurrence apparently, with a 100k-bottle wine collection; to an airline that says it can’t make a competitive bid without concessions from its union; to the US car industry being criticized for having a $24 disadvantage versus Japanese cars, based on poor pricing strategy (whatever that is, $24 short maybe?) and labor problems.
Add to that, amiable chit-chat about the Dow in terms of “nearly” and “a little bit” with specialist experts who don’t want to commit to any opinion really of whether up means down or vice is versa or verse visa.
Oaxaca versus Colorado Springs
We are not supposed to follow these obscure current events in Colorado Springs. Oh sure, our local rag can write editorials advising the Mexican presidential candidate that got robbed of the presidency fraudently in that country to lay down the struggle and do an Al Gore, but….. us US plebians are really not to think about things in far away lands, unless they are more directly pointed out to us. Then of course we can all get up in arms to defend Tibetians, Kosovar Albanians, and all the other what not, while on the way to WalMart to buy Chinese goods.
But still I got to thinking about how all those thousands of Oaxacan rebels marched from the city of Oaxaca, 280 miles away until they arrived yesterday in Mexico City. It seems that they have a Governor who is an assassin and torturer. Kind of like our very own president of the United States. That’s right, thousands of outraged and concerned Mexican citizens marched 280 miles in protest there to show their national capital how they felt.
Here in Colorado Springs, we got our work cut out this week in trying to get tens of people to march 280 inches in reflections upon eyes wide open. No protest signs allowed by order of the Friends it shall be said. What a contrast! Do you think DC will quiver at our power and courage?
One Cow
Thinking about our food supply,
specifically the masses of cattle
in feed lots and dairy stalls,
enduring our degrading stewardship
in silent anonymity.
Thinking about how we’ve been
breeding the ideal domestic cow
through cloning, thinking that
there may perhaps be by now
only one cow.
Is it possible the collective conscious
of a same cloned individual
works something like the minds of twins,
not so strangely, as one?
I awoke from a dream of this cow.
The No Child Left Behind by military recruiters opt out form
Tomorrow we’re meeting in front of William Palmer High School to urge students to fill out their opt-out forms.
The No-Child-Left-Behind Act had a provision that gave military recruiters access to all secondary school student records. The act also provided an opt-out clause which allowed individual students to exclude themselves from the information exchange. To do so, their parents have to file the proper request, each year, one copy with their school, a second copy with the Defense Department. Every school district in turn was expected to inform the students and their parents about this option.
In Palmer High School’s District 11, letters were recently sent to all families with the forms and instructions. Whether this qualifies as adequate notice, is subject to question. The letters were sent without fanfare two weeks before the deadline.
Other Colorado Springs districts have done nothing about notifying the parents. The deadline is October 13.
On October 13 every student record from every high school and junior high will be sent to the Pentagon. Not just name, address and phone number, but complete school records. Military recruiters want to be able to profile students to best tailor their approach. Certainly there are typical profiles for present enlistees and recruiters will be able to spot students susceptible to heading that way. Children getting into trouble perhaps, failing certain subjects, showing signs of problems at home, requiring certain medicines, are all green flags for recruiters. A recruiter’s tools could be special field trips, peer groups, free X-Boxes, access to the school premises and your telephone.
There are probably a good number of civil liberty reasons why you wouldn’t want the military to be handling your child’s school records. Right now what your school knows of your child’s medical record, or criminal justice record, or mental health record, or personal counseling, goes no further than the school yard. This information would now travel on laptops in the cars of Army/Navy/Air Force/Marines/Coast Guard recruiters as they court your children between stops at the pawn shop, the strip bar and their home on the wrong side of town.
Not to mention if they succeed with your child, they could get him killed.
Homeless vets, the Iraq generation
There’s a little discount store I like to frequent where I get inexpensive health food. I crossed paths there today with some homeless young men. It was only a matter of time I thought, before the truly needy discovered this little store, known so far only by less needy bohemians.
They were Iraq vets, young men, hair grown long, vagabonds, not unfriendly, not talkative either except with each other. The conversation didn’t get far because the three reeked of lived-in clothes. You think you can bear it when first one approaches, but in enclosed quarters the smell pierces your nostrils and persists even hours later. I had to leave.
They were vets yes, in a war they wanted nothing to do with. It was fucked up. Don’t blame me, one of them said, it’s the assholes in charge. They had more colorful words for assholes.
We’re not supposed to blame you, I countered? Well I do. I blame Rumsfeld of course, and Bush & Co, but I blame the soldiers too. I blame them plenty. The soldiers marched off to war, got in our face with their militarism, had their families cheerlead for them. Soldiers killed a mess of Iraqis, innocent people by the vast majority. Now the soldiers come home and threaten us with their PTSD and reckless anger. You three are choosing to protest militarism by dropping out, but what about protesting more visibly? What you’re doing now is as selfish as your decision to go along in the first place. You are vicitms, my God, look at you, but you were also the perpetrators.
Tell me, how do we send a message to the other soldiers? How do we reach the soldiers still doing the deeds, torturing, murdering, raping the prostitutes, raiding the houses, smashing the tableware, kicking the children?
I say, incarcerate them. Let them know the judgment awaiting them at home. Make them consider making a moral decision to stop providing the muscle for Bush’s crimes of war. Sure Rumsfeld is guilty, but you’re all guilty. It’s a tough break, but you’re complicit whether you agreed or not. The boys walked out as I walked out.
The Vietnam War left a legacy of homeless vets to roam our streets and parks to this day. Obviously the next generation is already on that trail, stretching their government checks to cover food and drug, here and there. In Manitou it’s easy to live in the foothills. A bum can be social or anti-social. When the weather gets cold he will move down to the shelter.
In the meantime the homeless vets will reek up my favorite places with their slept-in combat boots and their mental ill-health not up to facing their consciences. They might even pose a threat to the neighborhood when they’re drunk, I can’t judge them on that in advance.
These boys didn’t seem un-bright, but they’re adding nothing to the community once again. If they were not the dreck of society before they went to war, they are now.
Judging Decision 2006
I was once a trainee in a work group, where my brash behavior caught the ire of the team. “Don’t you realize Eric that each of us has a voice on your evaluation? Aren’t you worried that your insufficient reverence (I’m paraphrasing) will reflect in each of our assessments?” Everybody stared at me across the conference table. They were high level engineers and each was smiling.
“Well I said, hoping to obscure my fool-hardiness with diplomacy, “I’m not concerned with your evaluations actually.” This was the diplomacy of speaking frankly. ” I’m on the management fast-track program. I’ve already been evaluated, I’m here because the company saw my potential. I believe that administrators are going to look at your observations in terms of whether you recognize the qualities they already like. It will be a test of your management potential more than anything.” Two weeks later, and I can’t say I wasn’t sweating it, my evaluation was filled with unrestrained praise.
I relate this story, of course because I come out fabulous, but too because I’m thinking of the upcoming elections.
If the American public reelects the GOP, reconstitutes in effect the party of lies, corruption, war-profiteering, racketeering, election-fixing, treason, war crimes, and pedophilia, it’s going to reflect on the American voter.
Someone in Europe is going to have to put together a website to answer our “sorry everybody” with “No, we’re sorry, you ignorant, ignoble fools!”
Candidate Ritter as opposed to Bush
Bush was coming to Denver. Friends of mine were driving up to be part of the welcome.
The same day I received an email from the Ritter for Governor campaign. Bush was coming to Denver, we need your support! What’s this? Bill Ritter interested in greeting the President? Rebutting his policies? Joining the protest of GW’s visit?
No. Bush will be raising money for the opposition, the email read, please help us raise a proportunate amount.
Silly Democrats, politics are not for kids. You can’t merely ask for support without offering to do anything for it.

To try to speak against the war, you’re accused of being too political. Yet neither party wants to be antiwar. How then is the issue of war too political?
Blather
I sometimes read what I’ve written the night before and wonder why I have any friends at all. What a bloviator I am. I think that I have Multiple Personality Disorder (which is nothing to be ashamed of, Sybil). I feel like I’m writing from the heart and the next day I wake up, full of hope and good cheer, and I think “Who is this weird, arrogant, angry person who’s taken possession of my body and mind?”
The truth is that I have small boobs and a big butt; I’m way too old to be a MILF; I barely make ends meet every month; my hair looks terrible every other day; I love my kids’ cute little school and all the lovely and caring teachers that adore my children and tell me as much every chance they get. I’m not overly fond of government control and I don’t like the war but, if the truth be known, I don’t even hate Dubya nearly as much as I should. I think he’s sort of sweet and boyish and he’s married to a very nice woman which elevates him in my eyes. He loves his cute daughters and gets along with mom and dad and cares about his siblings….all the things that I strive to engender in my children.
The truth of the matter is that my life is a daily grind, just as yours is. My lofty goal each day is to stay on track, to keep a whole lot of people sane and healthy, to counsel them and love them and instruct them and pray for them. To cook and clean and do laundry and pay bills–to try to work in a little exercise, a little charity work, an occasional shower. My nights are filled with homework and sporting events and bathing, toothbrushing, Halloween costumes…it never ends. Nor do I want it to.
I am my best self when I am giving to my family, my community, loving my people and my God. It’s hard for me to care that much about the war, about poverty, about abortion. I don’t have a lot of spare time to think, less even to act. So, late at night, I let my alter ego come out and say whatever she’d like. I get up early to make breakfast and send the kids off to school and when I read what she’s written I think to myself, “Please shut up now and make me some coffee.”
MILFs and the state of public education
Yes, I know. I’m lucky. I was born under a lucky star. I have my health and my wealth. I have a big house, two fantabulous cars, and six exceptional children. I recently won the Filling the Deep End of the Gene Pool award. “Oh my goodness. I am so honored. I’d like to thank the Catholic Church, especially Father Foxhoven for his guidance during my difficult teenage years.” I have big boobs, a small butt (think upside down pear), and I’m generally considered a MILF, my daily affirmation. If you don’t know what a MILF is then (A) You don’t know any high school boys or (B) You don’t watch WEEDS.
My point? I am supposedly part of the elite….the people who have NO WORRIES….NO HEARTACHE….GOOD HAIR EVERY DAY. We wake up each morning and weep tears of joy at our good fortune. We drink mimosas before school and feel compassion for those who have less. “God, why? Why, oh why, isn’t everyone as blessed as I?”
Speaking of school. I am in a district with an incredible curriculum. We have a college prep program, Gifted and Talented programs, Science and Math Olympiad programs, Music programs, Advanced Placement programs that can get our kids into Stanford quicker than you can say “Will that be MasterCard or Visa?”
So what is my gripe? Well, the Ninth Court of Appeals recently ruled that when we turn our children over to the public school system, we check them at the door. THEY are in charge of MY children. My dynasty. They determine what my children learn, both in and out of the classroom. THEY? Who are they? Do THEY live on my street? Play golf at my country club? WHO THE FUCK ARE THEY?
Here’s who they are. THEY are the administrators who allowed a troubled little girl, out-of-district-but-we-do-like-to-be-inclusive, push my perfect baby boy off the top of the slide and break his arm with absolutely no punishment. THEY are the principal who suspended my perfect baby girl for writing a clever cartoon about how girlz can deal with pesky boyz by spraying them with freeze spray and framing and hanging them in the hallway–something about a specific threat against a named individual. THEY are the government fuckheads who make my perfect darlings walk through the halls with “safe hands” clasped behind their backs so they can’t threaten anyone. THEY are the counselors who called my children in during my very amicable divorce without my permission to tell them about how uncertain their futures are now that their parents have split up.
I am one of the fortunate individuals who has options. I can move my children to another school within the district. I can change districts. I can move to a private school. I can home school. Actually, I’ve opted to do several of these over the years. But since I pay my property taxes and abide by the Constitution, I would rather bitch. Bitch about government overstepping its bounds. Bitch about social engineering. Bitch about the NEA. Bitch about revisionist history. Mostly I want to bitch about people–people who control people. The unluckiest people in the world.
Like
Who cannot but watch in horror as our language suffers the incursion of “like” into our every sentence? Insert everywhere: “I’m like-” He was like- “She’d be like-” It was like-
The onslaught has been apace for decades, from Val-speak in the San Fernando Galleria on to the Mall of the Americas. The like verbal tic has pervaded our grammar like a Darwinist barnacle, overwhelming our ability to visit the past tense without it. Are there anti-predatory lingual strategies to fend off or ameliorate this foreign invasion?
The French have L’ Academie Francaise to dictate which new words will be allowed into their language. They successfully regulate the French spoken in their media, in commercials and official correspondence, with fines for companies who offend.
Is it but a matter of assigning American teachers the responsibility of reprimanding students when the ugly motif rears? This would probably mean expecting something out of our educational system which we haven’t been getting for awhile, educated children. We can’t escape Ebonics, how are we going to escape Mall-speak? The trend it seems has been to dumb down the American child, to prepare him or her for a life of McDonalds, spectator sport and beer. To raise an intelligent, cogent, populace would mean, like, we’d be asking for our democracy back and stuff.
Gold Hill Love Canal
Check it out! Someone finally got permission to build atop the gold trailings. After decades of hauling dirt from the gold mines in the mountains, Colorado City wound up with an enormous mound of extraction mining offal. For years an Australian conglomerate was negotiating to remove the last bits of gold through cyanide leeching.
Anyway you couldn’t build on a pile of dirt, especially a pile of dirt still saturated with so many mining poisons.
But somehow developers have been given the go ahead. As long as they add topsoil. As long as prospecive inhabitants are warned not to keep gardens, or dig, or drink from the sprinklers, or spend too much time in their basements. Because of the Radon.
They want to call it Gold Hill Mesa. But a man-made hill is called a mound. And it’s not gold, it’s a pile of cast-off trailings left by the mill. It would do better to be called the Love-of-Gold Mound, or Love Canal for short, because there is a precedent. And we can have Al Gore come condemn it now.
The material divide, affluence conspicuous in absentia
When you see luxury condos, they so often appear uninhabited. At least, you rarely see someone at the window, or on the balcony or in the drive. Seaside residences are like this too. Walk the beach, look up at the multimillion dollar homes, rarely anyone home.
Is this because those properties remain unsold? The real estate is too expensive for you, maybe nobody can afford them? Hardly. This phenomenon has to do with what separates affluence from the rest of us. Those who can afford million dollar lofts, condos, or estates, can afford several. They’re only ever 25% home. When they shop, they buy multiples of everything for each home, lest they have to pack between trips.
One of my favorite show-biz verite moments is captured on Randy Newman’s concert album Live at the Paladium. During an instrumental segue, Newman attempted to make small talk with Linda Ronstadt, with whom he was singing a duet. “How many houses do you have?” he asked her. Ronstad offered only a smile as Newman kept playing. “You know, most of these people only have one home.”
An Inconvenient Truth; Al Gore in the Balance
This last Friday I headed over to see a herd of well-fed liberals that rodeoed themselves into the Unitarian Church for a free showing of the film, ‘An Inconvenient Truth’. The corral was packed and after we were informed that a pastor was on the way from Denver to moralize to us later, the film began to roll. Another showing of ‘Al Gore, the Intellectual Politican’ was under way. Hey, it kinda of reminded me of the repeated US`showing of ‘Jimmy Carter, Born Again Liberal Christian’, too. Holy Mackeral. Why buy a used car from the other guys, when we got such a sincere team over at Slick’s Used Cars Emporium?
My daughter was one of about 5 church-like kids dragged into the Unitarian Church that evening. And she lasted only 30 minutes, and then I had to go. She had to go that is, since I actually kind of wanted to stay. The film had a ‘Don’t Feed the Bears’ ambience to it, that made me feel like I was watching a Yogi Bear and Boo-Boo Bear rerun from my youth. Plus, it had that feel of those professional ‘Why You Need to Join Your Local Union’ stuff the AFL-CIO occasionally puts out. But my daughter was demanding that I rent her some obscure foreign film from over at Toons Video instead of staying and watching more of the freebee.
So how the Hell can I review a film when I watched only 30 minutes of it? Easily. I have been watching Al Gore for much longer than just the 90 minutes the film lasts. Here is Mr Environmental Guru as I have seen him over the years.
1) Supported Poppy Bush’s so-called Desert Strom that resulted in the deployment of Depleted Uranium radioctivity across the region. It also led to further environmental catastrophe as Hussein retaliated by incinerating the oil refineries of Kuwait.
2) As VP, he later went on to head up an Adminstration that deliberately targeted Yugoslavia’s civilian infrastructure through a US bombing campaign. As a result, the Danube was totally polluted with highly toxic waste. He also supported 8 years more of continued bombing of Iraq during that time, which certainly did not improve the ecology already destroyed by US warmaking he had supported even when a Republican had been directing the effort.
3) He supported the invasion of Afghanistan, which has left entire regions there decimated by so-called ‘bunker busting’ weaponry. Hardly a major ‘green’ effort on the part of Gore.
4) Gore has sat quiet as Israel bombed a civilian installation in Lebanon, which is a country invaded with total Bush support and complicity. Result?… a tidal wave of petro pollution that is the worst spill ever experienced in the Eastern Meidterranean. It will take decades to repair the damage, yet ‘Green’ Al Gore is silent.
5) Al Gore holds large number of shares in Occidental Oil, the company that polluted the Love Canal in New York State. It is also a company heavily invested in Colombia where Gore has helped have tons of isecticide dropped onto rural areas under the guise of waging a Clinton made ‘drug war’. The company sold off its holdings from the area after their drilling in U’wa tribal lands came up negative. Despite U’wa protests against this drilling, the Gore family held its shares in the company. Too bad the U’wa’s note to Gore was not part of the movie.
We could go on, but why should anyone believe Al Gore is doing anything other than image restructuring for himself, and the Democratic Party? If you are depending on him to be pro-environmental, then I got a bridge to sell you in Brooklyn. If you are depending on the Democratic Party to stop the Pentagon (which is the main danger to global environments), then you should have your head examined.
White Mountain
White Mountain met its match last night, at their homecoming football game. The idea usually is to pick an opponent to beat at your homecoming festivities. Later you might visit a fellow school on their homecoming weekend and lose to them in return. But “South,” the underprivileged shoe-in with half the athletic department and budget, would not play ball. And that was the good news.
There was a distinct home advantage, the bigger, better lit bleachers, the multiple cheerleading squads, the band, the fireworks, everything uphill and upwind from the diminutive visitors stands. But the Indians got whooped by the visiting Pueblo South Colts, and maybe expected it. It felt like a surprise to most, and it was pretty dark out there. Add to that the anonymity of shiny football helmets under high school stadium lights, but if you looked closely you could tell it was darker on the south side of the field. The Pueblo South High School players were black and hispanic.
White Mountain gets its name because there are no children of color there. Well, there are the occasional adopted black children, and the whitish black children of privilege, but few others. Cheyenne Mountain is very very white. Nothing wrong with that, it’s an affluent neighborhood and welcomes all who can afford to be there.
But at the base of Cheyenne Mountain is a racism more overt and the children of White Mountain pass it everyday. Cheyenne Mountain Resort is a terribly exclusive country club with amazingly expensive membership fees and golf tee fees. And all the attendants there are black. It’s the Pullman porter valet concept with plantation era uniforms. They look like lawn jockey figurines. Thin black people in pure white clothes. Smiling black faces, happy to be there. Nothing illegal about the hiring standard, here’s how it works:
Cheyenne Mountain Resorts applies for an immigration waiver to hire international workers. They claim the jobs which resorts offer cannot be filled by the local labor force. The pay’s not enough, the career prospects are not enough, and true enough, the local populace is not enough either. Too fat maybe, poor work ethic, have social problems perhaps, and locals have their own transport to bring or fetch complications for the resort. Locals bring too much financial baggage to the table.
On the other hand, imported laborers are housed at company apartments. They’re shuttled to and from work. When they’ve finished their three month stint they are sent home. Deliriously uncomplicated and cheap. Cheyenne Mountain Resorts does its hiring in Jamaica. Know any white people in Jamaica? Well, they don’t appear to sign up to work across the sea, away from their home and family, on a rich man’s plantation.
The Broadmoor takes advantage of the same immigrant labor waiver to staff its hotel and restaurant, except they hire exclusively in Eastern Europe. I’m not sure that’s not racist to another extreme. The slavic labor force is the least expensive in the world, in the world of white people. There are no colored peoples there.
The immigrant labor waiver is an unfair means for local employers to escape contributing to a sustainable and healthy local community. It’s a foreign aid program of sorts, but at the expense of what could be local jobs. And when it’s racially segregated, it’s ugly. I plan to ask around if White Mountain prefers its golf jockeys all black. If they can’t say it with a straight face, they should stop it.
This isn’t about racism, it’s about economic justice. If we want to believe in the notion that the American dream is available to people of all shades and heritage, we must not teach our children that racial differences dictate social status.