December 23, 2009 archive

Obama CAN’T save YOU….Remedial Politics

Reprinted from July 14th, 2008

In fact he has rather explicitly asks that YOU save HIM.

When he asks for citizens to become involved in the political process, in his campaign, that is what he is asking you for.

Here is how our government works, and ….surprise!…. Obama knows this. Politicians are individual human beings, (surprise again!) individual human beings, even Obama, are not gods. We, each and every one of us, including Obama, are subject to temptation, failure of will in the face of adversity, and yes, corruption. Not dirty back room money under the table corruption, but corruption as a process, over time, that saps integrity and will.

Washington DC and the strange dances of culture, pressure, and politics there are literally MADE to corrupt. To put it cutely, they have a whole street there (named K) that exists for one reason, to corrupt public servants. There is the culture of the Senate, (need I say more Harry Reid?) there is the culture of The Villagers, the cocktail party culture…..and then there are the real bad guys!  

Pony Party: Christmas fun

funny pictures of cats with captions
see more Lolcats and funny pictures

It Really IS ALL Hamsher’s Fault

I’d never really read her before-or if I had, I quickly forgot about it.

So I went over to FDL, and what did I find? Really flaming crazy, nutso, lefty stuff –she’s really far, far from the mainstream:

So if anyone’s got a story about a remarkable medical pet recovery, please share it, because we could use some hope and inspiration tonight. Kobe sent me packing a short time ago because he said I was a big drag and I need to get myself in a better place so I can be there for him.

And this:

Susan Boyle Final Performance Video, “Britain’s Got Talent”

And, of course this:

I’m sure Michael Jackson is happy he’s not around to see all the psychobabble being dished up about his life. Did the crappy upbringing really doom him to brooding unhappiness, or did it fuel his otherwordly talent? Would he have been just as strange and troubled without the fame and fortune, or was being “Michael Jackson” the only thing that kept him out of Leavenworth? We’ll never know.

So, in response to all this radical communist propaganda, I have asked Meteor to re-instate my account over at dk, so that I could attack it, and help save the world from pernicious socialistic, communist-y, nazi-like posts like these.

He immediately re-instated me, and they gave me a thumbs up, a pat on the back, and a cold diet coke.

Here’s an excerpt from my first ever rec list diary:

Don’t you fucking fools understand that we need to kill muslims in Afghanistan because Obama says so, and he’s our LEADER, and he WANTS TO HELP THE UNEMPLOYED (so that they can kill people in Afghanistan too).  

And don’t you understand that mandated mandates to pay our American corp-o-crocy will save 300,000,000,000,000.26 lives every year ? Rahm told us so.  Twice.

And don’t you realize that if we don’t stick together, then we’ll LOSE in 2012–and that would be a disaster, because then Jane Hamsher would be IN CHARGE. And we’d ALL be mandated to SHARE OUR PET STORIES.

How’s that for socialisty, femi-nazi stuff?  (look at that chicks HAIR!)

I mean SHARE. How American is that ?


Like equally.

You have to do it, and so do I, and then we’d all be sharing…..

Open Hands


Kindness of American Saint Nick remembered

What can one say about this? Except that its totally wonderful.

A small town in Luxembourg once destroyed by fierce fighting remembers one of the bright moments in the dark of World War II — a visit from Saint Nick.

For Dick Brookins, a U.S. soldier standing in for an absent Saint Nicholas, it was to change his life also and help him find some meaning for the war in Europe.

Sixty five years after he first donned the flowing robe, the miter hat, and the white fluffy beard to become St. Nicholas, Brookins chuckles as he remembers his reluctance to assume his now memorable role.

It was a cold and dreary December 1944. Brookins was a lanky 22-year-old American Corporal fresh from battle.

And Wiltz, a tiny town in Luxembourg ravaged by war welcomed the weary soldiers who had helped liberate their town from occupation.

It was to be a brief respite for the U.S. troops, before pressing on to their next offensive. And the last thing on Brookins’ mind was a Christmas party.

Humanity at its absolute best

Please send money, food, and job postings.

Just when things are looking about as down for me as they can get, I find the bottom dropping out again.  I am currently registered with Cuyahoga Community College for the spring semester, reliant on what financial aid I can get to pay for classes and transportation, as well as food when money allows.  I can’t get a job.  Often,I must raid the student food bank just to have enough to eat for the week.

This past semester I learned that my financial aid would be cut off because I had reached the maximum number of course credit hours (93), and would have to file an appeal for further financial assistance.  I did that, got the paperwork months ago, got it filled out, but was told repeatedly by the financial aid office to wait until December, when grades were due to be posted.  So I handed the paperwork in on December 8th, when I was told to, and was informed that it would be two weeks for the process to be completed.

I found out yesterday that the process may take another two weeks or more, partly because of the holidays and partly because FAFSA has decided to take its sweet time.  I have until January 6th to make payment arrangements with the campus business office so I can remain registered for courses.  If I am not approved, or if I haven’t made payment arrangements by the 6th, I will be dropped from my courses and will receive no money from FAFSA.  Payment arrangements must be made with a deposit up front.

This isn’t simply a matter of wanting to remain in school to finish up the required courses to earn my degree.  It’s quite literally a matter of survival.  Because I can’t get a job (no one will hire me), financial aid is all I have to live on.  Without it, I have no money for food, no money to pay for my telephone and Internet connection – I need at least a phone line for prospective employers to get a hold of me, no money for transportation, to say nothing of money for classes and textbooks.  Everything depends on the dubious mercy of FAFSA getting around to reviewing my appeal some time after the first of the year.

So I am typing this entry now, at a public library terminal, reduced to begging you for money, food, and any job postings on Cleveland, Ohio’s west side.  Bear in mind that the only transportation I now have is my own two feet after the 31st of this month, so it has to be within a reasonable walking distance from where I live.

I am willing to provide my full name and mailing address for those of you able to donate money, food, or both.  PayPal locked me out, and I have no other online means of accepting donations.  You can reach me by e-mail here: [email protected]

I’m in a pretty dire situation, so anyone able to help out please do so.  I’m not too proud to beg, not after more than two straight years of unemployment and existing each and every day under the threat of homelessness and starvation.

As time goes by…

I want to start by giving a huge flaming finger to my audience which expects miracles I can’t provide so they can point out the platonic shadows while they freeze to death like a match girl.


Welcome to America 2010.

There was a time softened by the distance of memory when I rode north past Stockbridge Massachusetts in a red VW Microbus with circles and arrows and implements of destruction.

It was a dark and stormy (I miss him, I should look him up) night and we huddled under thin blankets I can still find since like most parsimonious New Englanders (and unlike profligate Washington new money) the Gilmores never throw anything away- including that red VW Microbus with circles and arrows and implements of destruction even after I crashed it into the back of someone’s car (my legs were on the other side) and the engine blew up (this actually happened twice, once while I was driving it and once while my Dad was.  Hello Enfield coast to a stop or charging up a hill to a street named after a classmate who shat themselves in first grade).

But this wasn’t one of those bad nights and we only had to deal with the fact that you just can’t heat a red VW Microbus.

So it was pretty fucking COLD as we drove north to the Lake House and we hadn’t got our Christmas Tree yet so at the gas station we got the least pathetic one.  I want to emphasise at this point that least means beyond Charlie Brown.

So we strapped that on the roof and trundled down to the Lake House and by trundled I mean that if Dad hadn’t jumped an Olympic 90 Meter ski hill we might have missed the driveway.

Which was blocked by a 9 foot snow drift, but when one of your gifts is a toboggan you can kind of make it to the door.

And call Skip the plow guy.

Who doesn’t actually dig you out so much as wade through the snow to tell you your pathetic tree sucks and the cranberry popcorn garland a waste of time.

“Let me fix that for you.”

Skip is mostly famous for surviving without a scratch a high speed collision into a bridge abutment so I don’t want you to get the impression he’s the most reliable guy but my Dad and I went off in his plow to his garage where he walked out the back at random and picked a tree and gave it a few wacks.

In New Hampshire this behavior is considered normal.

But it was undeniably a better tree (did I mention pathetic?) and we dragged the fresh kill back to our lair and after a wee cup o’ yuletide joy we were able to scoot Skip out.

Oh.  It gets weirder.

I rescue the pathetic Charlie Brown Tree for my own because I’m a rank sentimentalist (hit the tissue twenty times just writing this) but my point is The Great Squirrel Hunt

Didn’t I tell you it got weirder?

We’d had bats in our chimneys and rafters but never a flying squirrel.  This one dove out the fire place (now in fairness I must admit we had lighted a fire) for Skip’s tree trunk and ran up and down while I chased it out the porch door armed with oven gloves and a badminton racket.

I am a formidable opponent, especially with a badminton racket.

So I’m off to the Lake House again to sleep on Granddad’s narrow red leather couch and watch Sat TV protected from the cold by the very same red VW Microbus with circles and arrows and implements of destruction thin blankets and will use whatever excuses for tools I can cram on a CD that plugs into Mom’s laptop to stay in touch as best as I can.

But wait-

A Private Hell: Women in America

Crossposted from WWL

Brittany Murphy. Another victim of America’s obsession with the Barbie syndrome? Photobucket

I get it, you know. I’m an American woman. Lets face it, having a man sexually attracted to you feels good. Being invisible, undesired, or the object of repulsion hurts. We tell ourselves and each other that looks don’t matter, the person inside does. But we hear the opposite all around us. “My girlfriend, wife, that chick, that actress, etc etc etc is so HOT!” And what aspect are they referring to? Their minds? Naw. We know without even glancing up. Blue eyes they could stare into forever. Thin muscular frames. Big tits. Round apple asses. High cheekbones. Blond smooth hair. (although an occasional brunette makes the cut, as long as there are lighter highlights in it, and the rest fits the cookie cutter mold)

We learn to hate ourselves young. God how I loathed my brown eyes when I was a teen. I wanted blue contacts though my vision was perfect. The slightly too hooded lids, telltale signs of my slavic descent. My nose, always too big, with a droop at the end that is just shy of a hook. My nondescript mouth, no sensual curves to that upper lip, that no lipstick can create. No little girl breathy voice, no soprano. Alto, tenor when needed in choir. And the hair. Always the hair. The frizz, the curl, the messy nest of it. White-Blond in the summer, and light brown in the winter; and my Mom would NEVER consider letting me color it so it didn’t LOOK like I colored it and quit. In winter, I had to endure the two-tone of being out of the sun. Hear, “What is up with her hair?” from the perfect little cheerleaders whose Mothers did take them to salons for their unnatural colors.

The worst? My body. I could not get skinny no matter what I did.

My body, which was eternally open season for ridicule by my siblings. My body, which my permanently stick thin, chocolate stuffing sister could laugh at while I lived on dry toast, lettuce and worked out a gym daily.

Sweetheart Deals

Attorney General Henry McMaster said he and his counterparts in Alabama, Colorado, Michigan, North Dakota, Texas and Washington state – all Republicans – are jointly taking a look at the deal they’ve dubbed the “Nebraska compromise.”

“The Nebraska compromise, which permanently exempts Nebraska from paying Medicaid costs that Texas and all other 49 states must pay, may violate the United States Constitution – as well as other provisions of federal law,” Texas Attorney General Greg Abbott said.

Ramsey, McMaster and Michigan’s Mike Cox are running for governor in their states.

“Whether in the court of law or in the court of public opinion, we must bring an end to this culture of corruption,” McMaster said. The negotiations “on their face appear to be a form of vote buying paid for by taxpayers,” he said.


 Health care reform will be an Obama victory

 Dec. 22: When Senate health care legislation finally passes, it will be a win for the president. NBC’s David Gregory offers analysis.

Nightly News

‘We’ll assist anyone’

McMaster is encouraging a South Carolina citizen to step forward to sue to challenge the measure if it is signed into law. “We’ll assist anyone to the extent that we’re able,” McMaster said.

Also Tuesday, U.S. House Majority Whip Jim Clyburn, D-S.C., said Republicans need to stop complaining about deals their colleagues made.

“Rather than sitting here and carping about what Nelson got for Nebraska, I would say to my friends on the other side of the aisle: Let’s get together and see what we can get for South Carolina,” Clyburn said.

For instance, Clyburn expects states will get more help covering Medicaid expansion costs. Critics say the federal government’s coverage of 91 percent of those future costs will disappear, leaving states with huge holes in their budgets. Clyburn says the legislation the federal share should be 95 percent, with states picking up no more than 5 percent.

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Meteor Blades has done more for this place, both emotionally and

intellectually than the rest of us combined.  Is he the be-all-end-all of our discussions?  Fuck no! Never has been.  Never tried to be.  But his history and knowledge are rich.  Will I call him out? Bet your fucking bottom dollar.  But fer rizzle, as antagonists go, Meteor Blades?


That’s like calling out Fred Biletnikoff as a wide-reciever.

Jesus.  More later.

update: because this diary is a total waste of community neuronal space, I’m deleting shortly.  we can do better.  yes, we can!  and if you elect me president….single payer public health option for all!  out of afghanistan!

Helping the good political guys: Apparently still possible

Found a wonderful article by Norman Soloman. Just when all my beer was salty from tears:

In recent months, the responses from the progressive base to the Obama presidency have often resembled stages of grief — with rotations of denial, bargaining, anger, depression and acceptance.

Mobilization of progressive movements to pressurize Obama in the White House and Democrats on Capitol Hill has always been essential. It hasn’t happened. Instead, among Democratic loyalists, reflexive support for the latest line from the administration has made it easier for Obama to move rightward.

In 2010, we should concentrate on generating the kind of public information, vigorous debate and grassroots organizing that could shift the center of political gravity in a progressive direction.

At every turn, progressives should be putting up a fight — not only in all kinds of venues outside the electoral system but also inside the Democratic Party. Winning elections will require doing the methodical and difficult work of running candidates in Democratic primaries, sometimes against entrenched incumbents.

For instance, that’s what stalwart anti-war progressive Marcy Winograd is doing in her challenge to Congresswoman Jane Harman in the Los Angeles area. Across the country, dozens of strong progressives are running for Congress with a real chance to win. They need our volunteer help and our financial support.

Late Night Karaoke

Open Thread

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