A few days ago I turned on the radio to hear that a prisoner was being held by some authority or regime for no apparent reason and was allowed virtually no contact with a lawyer or with the outside world. "Another Guantanamo story.", I thought to myself. But then I heard them say two things. They used the pronoun "she" and said that she did get to make occasional phone calls but there were no more than one or two minutes allowed per call. Compared with Guantanamo this seemed enlightened.
I looked up the story later and it concerned an Iranian-born woman who is an American citizen and was arrested and held by the Iranians a few weeks ago. She is apparently a scholar and the Iranians should have no reason to hold her according to someone the reporter was quoting.
Next came the story of the British citizens, civilians, who are being held in Iraq. The reporter for this story said that Iraq could have no reason to arrest and hold these good people who had no military or other anti-Iraq role whatsoever.
Well folks, we and the Brits and the other nations complicit in extraordinary rendition lowered the bar. We can complain and accuse all that we want but we have no moral standing. That's one of the al Qaeda victories in the war on terror. We are told that al Qaeda hates our way of life at the same time that our way of life is undermined by those who blame it on al Qaeda.
It's true that Lincoln suspended habeas corpus early in the Civil War in a narrow band along the border states. He was facing a rebel army of 100,000 soldiers within the boom of a cannon from Washington D.C. A few years later Grant suspended habeas corpus in a narrow area in order to get the KKK under control in South Carolina. The Bushies have suspended habeas corpus for people from all walks of life from nations around the world. To this day, even when all evidence points to errors in their judgement the Bushies are too afraid of criticism (Bush is never really wrong.) to admit their errors.
Lincoln famously admitted mistakes, and did so to many people in many situations. He was a humble man, but more wise than all of our present leadership combined. If Lincoln were around today he'd be, without a doubt, the target of character assassination. A real person, a person of true intelligence, wisdom and character presents a threat to the powers that be beyond that of al Qaeda.
It's my belief that al Qaeda, and the pandering to and fanning of the nation's fears actually made Bush. Without al Qaeda Bush would have been a marginal, one-term president instead of hanging around to be, by far, the worst president in history.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
It's Bush's war now
Bush insists on no timelines, no pressure, and all the money in the world for the war in Iraq. He's fine with the Iraqis fumblings but I suppose that makes sense in that he probably compares them to his fumblings and sees a fellow traveler. Bush is fine with being blind to the setbacks at every turn and with the fact that the enemy looks exactly like the friend. He's fine to let others do what he (and Cheney and all the Bushie brain trust) avoided in every way they could. Bush is happy to act as if each new budget request his war is a surprise...an emergency. He refuses to include war funding in the normal budget. His lack of planning constitutes an emergency on the part of others. That's leadership for you.
But this is now 100% Bush's war. He has exactly what he wants and he's had exactly what he wanted all along. When we declare victory and pull out the far right will absolutely find ways to blame everyone and anyone but the Bushies. I'm posting this now to let them know that anyone with any sense of history and half a brain can see the future now.
Iraq had zero to do with al Qaeda. Any honest person knows that. Bush's actions made Iraq open to al Qaeda, which is, again, exactly what he wanted. He wanted to meet the terrorists there. He got his wish and now he's using the presence of al Qaeda to prolong his war into an endless future.
This is the worst administration in history. I thought we'd scraped bottom with Nixon. I had no sense of history then.
But this is now 100% Bush's war. He has exactly what he wants and he's had exactly what he wanted all along. When we declare victory and pull out the far right will absolutely find ways to blame everyone and anyone but the Bushies. I'm posting this now to let them know that anyone with any sense of history and half a brain can see the future now.
Iraq had zero to do with al Qaeda. Any honest person knows that. Bush's actions made Iraq open to al Qaeda, which is, again, exactly what he wanted. He wanted to meet the terrorists there. He got his wish and now he's using the presence of al Qaeda to prolong his war into an endless future.
This is the worst administration in history. I thought we'd scraped bottom with Nixon. I had no sense of history then.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
A sign there is a god
Quite some time ago I worked with a very attractive woman about my age. She wore a ring so I kept a friendly distance. We began working on a project together and became friends, sometimes going for a beer after work to sit and talk. She had dark blonde hair, perfect skin, a very pretty face and a Marilyn Monroe body. As the weather changed and she started wearing summer clothes I often found myself concentrating less on work and more on her.
It was about that time that her demeanor changed toward being downcast and worried. I soon learned that she'd filed for divorce from her husband. He was, as it turned out, mean, controlling and even abusive. I happened to know a guy who worked with her husband who said that he'd not characterize Jeanne's husband as a nice guy.
Jeanne was a moral woman, but still knew how to flirt, and we grew closer. At the big company picnic we drove out together and when she changed into a thin, one-piece swim suit, and that suit got wet, I became almost single-minded on being with her without that suit on. Every person there had to notice, though Jeanne seemed unaware.
Outside of Portland is a long beach along the Columbia River. During the summer much of it is a nude beach, at least on the warmer days. Jeanne and I decided to go out there after work one day. She notified me that she had no intention of being nude, and I said that I understood. We had changed out of our work clothes at the office before heading to the beach. As it turned out the day was cool and almost no one was on the beaches, but the clouds cleared in the late afternoon and the temperature rose. I took off my shirt enjoying the sun. We both were wearing shorts and Jeanne took off a loose cotton shirt to reveal a lacy camisole, and amazingly to me, no bra.
We walked perhaps a mile downriver talking, relaxing, watching the big ships plow past. We turned to walk back upstream and after a while realized that we didn't recall which of the many paths through the woods led to the spot where we'd left the car. They all looked a lot alike. But we spotted one that looked right and started down the path. We could see the road but saw that we weren't on the correct path, but we thought that once on the road we'd spot the car so we walked on. We had to cross through a thicket of greenery. There were no blackberries or poison oak so we thought nothing of it.
Within moments we felt a thousand fiery prickles on our legs. When we reached down to try to brush the heat away out arms were inflamed. We quickly backed out and onto the beach. We were hopping around and instinctively headed for the icy water of the Columbia. We waded in and the water did cool our thighs but we were irritated above our shorts and onto our arms. I told Jeanne that I was going to strip and get completely into the river and proceeded to do just that. She stood there a few moments, but realized that the pain was getting worse and she too was soon stripping off her clothes.
We stayed in the water until we were freezing. Of course the relief was only partial and temporary. We realized that we'd gotten into stinging nettles and that those nettles were probably in our clothes. We had our work clothes in the car. The beach was empty and the road beyond was little-used and a dead end. So we decided to walk naked back to the car, but this time we'd find an open path to the road.
Her body was everything I'd imagined, to say the least. After momentary shyness, she seemed comfortable as we walked along. The stinging was still there but other feelings helped to mask that pain. Just before we left the beach, right at the edge of the woods, she reached to hold my hand. I stopped us and turned her to me and we hugged, then kissed, then we laughed because the closeness seemed to drive the nettles more deeply in, increasing the pain.
About that god thing. I'm not a believer, not in that all-controlling guy in the sky idea. But if I did believe I'd have to agree with the thought that he works in mysterious ways.
It was about that time that her demeanor changed toward being downcast and worried. I soon learned that she'd filed for divorce from her husband. He was, as it turned out, mean, controlling and even abusive. I happened to know a guy who worked with her husband who said that he'd not characterize Jeanne's husband as a nice guy.
Jeanne was a moral woman, but still knew how to flirt, and we grew closer. At the big company picnic we drove out together and when she changed into a thin, one-piece swim suit, and that suit got wet, I became almost single-minded on being with her without that suit on. Every person there had to notice, though Jeanne seemed unaware.
Outside of Portland is a long beach along the Columbia River. During the summer much of it is a nude beach, at least on the warmer days. Jeanne and I decided to go out there after work one day. She notified me that she had no intention of being nude, and I said that I understood. We had changed out of our work clothes at the office before heading to the beach. As it turned out the day was cool and almost no one was on the beaches, but the clouds cleared in the late afternoon and the temperature rose. I took off my shirt enjoying the sun. We both were wearing shorts and Jeanne took off a loose cotton shirt to reveal a lacy camisole, and amazingly to me, no bra.
We walked perhaps a mile downriver talking, relaxing, watching the big ships plow past. We turned to walk back upstream and after a while realized that we didn't recall which of the many paths through the woods led to the spot where we'd left the car. They all looked a lot alike. But we spotted one that looked right and started down the path. We could see the road but saw that we weren't on the correct path, but we thought that once on the road we'd spot the car so we walked on. We had to cross through a thicket of greenery. There were no blackberries or poison oak so we thought nothing of it.
Within moments we felt a thousand fiery prickles on our legs. When we reached down to try to brush the heat away out arms were inflamed. We quickly backed out and onto the beach. We were hopping around and instinctively headed for the icy water of the Columbia. We waded in and the water did cool our thighs but we were irritated above our shorts and onto our arms. I told Jeanne that I was going to strip and get completely into the river and proceeded to do just that. She stood there a few moments, but realized that the pain was getting worse and she too was soon stripping off her clothes.
We stayed in the water until we were freezing. Of course the relief was only partial and temporary. We realized that we'd gotten into stinging nettles and that those nettles were probably in our clothes. We had our work clothes in the car. The beach was empty and the road beyond was little-used and a dead end. So we decided to walk naked back to the car, but this time we'd find an open path to the road.
Her body was everything I'd imagined, to say the least. After momentary shyness, she seemed comfortable as we walked along. The stinging was still there but other feelings helped to mask that pain. Just before we left the beach, right at the edge of the woods, she reached to hold my hand. I stopped us and turned her to me and we hugged, then kissed, then we laughed because the closeness seemed to drive the nettles more deeply in, increasing the pain.
About that god thing. I'm not a believer, not in that all-controlling guy in the sky idea. But if I did believe I'd have to agree with the thought that he works in mysterious ways.
Friday, May 4, 2007
When good things happen
As I've mentioned here, my daughter hasn't had the easiest of lives. Sure, compared to kids in Darfur or Iraq, she's had a cakewalk but few of us have had to endure prejudicial rejection from nearly everyone we encounter. So it's worth mentioning the good things.
A older fellow student and my daughter have had to share an assignment over the past few weeks. Recently this woman said to my daughter, "Thank you."
"What for?"
"For opening my eyes. For letting me see past the superficial. You're really a good person but until I got to be around you I'd assumed the opposite."
From there the exchange got into "don't ask, don't tell" territory but they both knew what the subject was. (The school that they attend is small and at least half the students are hateful toward gays and lesbians so a lower profile is important.)
A few days later this woman brought a nice gift, an uncommon plant and a small book about friendship to my daughter. And no, this woman is not a lesbian and isn't hitting on my daughter. She's just a good soul who is truly pleased to offload a prejudice she'd been dragging around.
As a father, this made my day also. Two people gained and grew and nothing was lost except for a bit of darkness from this world.
A older fellow student and my daughter have had to share an assignment over the past few weeks. Recently this woman said to my daughter, "Thank you."
"What for?"
"For opening my eyes. For letting me see past the superficial. You're really a good person but until I got to be around you I'd assumed the opposite."
From there the exchange got into "don't ask, don't tell" territory but they both knew what the subject was. (The school that they attend is small and at least half the students are hateful toward gays and lesbians so a lower profile is important.)
A few days later this woman brought a nice gift, an uncommon plant and a small book about friendship to my daughter. And no, this woman is not a lesbian and isn't hitting on my daughter. She's just a good soul who is truly pleased to offload a prejudice she'd been dragging around.
As a father, this made my day also. Two people gained and grew and nothing was lost except for a bit of darkness from this world.
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