An automobile executive once said, "...you can sell a young man's car to a young man, you can sell a young man's car to an old man, but you can't sell an old man's car to anybody."
With great irony, your Wandering Gentile notes that this quote was attributed to a General Motors executive, who was, presumably executed and disposed of in the St. Clair River. The idea is also applicable to politics. And this is where the Republican Party is failing miserably.
It could be suggested that the McCain campaign is being run by the Three Stooges, but that would be unfair to the Stooges. They were way more competent than the McCain campaign. The only thing that has not happened to the McCain campaign is the public announcement of the Straight Talk Express' new pilot, Steveland Morris, better known as Stevie Wonder.
McCain is due some of the blame. That's smart, challenging a man who is characterized by spectacular interpersonal skills, to go spend a week talking to people overseas who are as to yet unfamiliar with him. Begging the Gentle Reader's pardon, but every time Senator Obama opens his mouth, people melt. Even Republicans.
What exactly did they expect to happen? Did the McCain campaign expect Obama's charm to become inert at the border? Perhaps they would have been better advised to wait for the junior Senator from Illinois to turn white, or George W. Bush to discover grammar.
If one were to stand in Senator McCain's shoes, one would be in need of the following advice...SHUT UP. Stop asking Obama to do things. Every time McCain suggests that Obama do something, dear Lord, it backfires like an ACME contraption in the hands of Wile E. Coyote.
Honestly, if it were not so sad, it would be hilarious.
A few Democrartic partisans are laughing. This is not a case of GHW Bush barfing on a Japanese official, which was funny on a Beavis and Butthead level. This is a case of a man with distinguished service to his country collapsing upon himself. Tom Tancredo deserves to be humiliated, but one fears that the humiliation will be visited upon Senator McCain.
A short analysis here. McCain is the best candidate the Republicans have offered since Reagan. Obama may be the best Democratic candidate, ever. The Senator from Arizona is a fine man who deserved a better fate than facing a man whose face will eventually, hopefully dozens of years from now, be on money. And there is not a blessed thing Senator McCain can do about it, which really sucks for him.
The problem is not so much with John McCain the man, as it is with the Republican party. There is the fear that all of the things that the Viet Cong put McCain's body through will catch up with him. We understand that his mum is 96. She also was not tortured in the Hanoi Hilton, which means that McCain's Vice-Presidential choice is that much more crucial.
Should he pick Romney or another person palatable to the party's establishment, it's over. Any establishment figure is Bush-whacked. Experience is instantly disputable with the question "So, you like the way things are going in your life???" Inexperience becomes a greenhorn backed by the party most Americans believe to be responsible for the fix the country is in.
Nope, McCain's screwed.
It will all cave in at the debate. McCain, for lack of a better description is, well, diminutive. One of the results of his torture is that his posture and movement appear to be without grace, making him seem infirm. And the Irish ancestry makes him pale, too blamed pale, hell, translucent. And, yes, Senator McCain is quite old, and he has a squeaky voice compared to Obama.
The last thing McCain wants is a debate. Here we have a man who, when standing next to Obama, will look like a demented Leprecauhn. All he needs is the derby and pipe to look like the mascot for the Boston Celtics, next to a tall, young, vibrant man with a deep voice and athletic posture.
The question is not whether Obama will win, merely if he will become fatigued during the whipping that appears to be imminent.
No one believes that McCain is oblivious to the fate approaching him and his party in November. Indeed, Senator McCain appears to be enjoying himself immensely, and one suspects that on some level he doesn't really care. It would be disingenuous, and disrespectful to suggest that McCain has no clue of the nature and strength of his opponent. McCain understands Sun Tzu better than that.
As opposed to the current occupant of the White House, who thinks Sun Tzu is "one o' them wrankly Chinese dawgs."
The fall promises to be entertaining, and Senator McCain is likely to fade, not as Bob Dole into a bitter retirement, but with a performance that will allow him to exit gracefully. McCain will be best as a candidate by not only speaking his mind, but by dumping the advisors who temper his native responses and wit for political convenience.
At this moment, McCain gains nothing from a party-operated campaign. It is now his chance to tell the world what he thinks without a filter, without prejudice, without a net, and without fear. His only hope is to ditch the Party and come to the par-tay.
A campaign like that becomes the last, best hope for Republicans in 2008. But the Republicans are the party that chose Bush over McCain in 2000. They know better. That's how their leadership and stewardship of the nation has made them so popular.
If Obama gets all 535 Electoral College votes, does he get a bonus, or a playoff or something like that?
30 July 2008
106 Miles East of Seattle
The original idea for this post was to be high-minded, elegant, and optimistic in tone. It was to be very Obamaesque in presentation, and Your Wandering Gentile was to be discovered by the Sulzbergers, win a Pulitzer, and land writing comfortably on Manhattan's Upper West Side, staring from his penthouse at the Weehawken skyline.
No, that probably wouldn't happen, nor would such a change in Your Wandering Gentile's normally sarcastic, febrile, and generally brutish tone. Brutish is a good word for the moment. It ably describes the idea that Reverend Jesse Jackson expressed wishes to castrate Senator Obama for "...talking down to (slur)s."
Oh no. Oh hell no. That old man did not just go there and dog Obama like that.
It's sad, really. Reverend Jackson has had a bipolar career, combining years of elevating the African-American community with one hand via rhetoric about empowerment, and striving for equal treatment and opportunity, and with the other hand suppressing the same population by pushing away calls for accountability as racist.
Equality without accountability is not equality. This comes from a Southern, White, Christian, Heterosexal, English-speaking male, which makes the suggestion suspect. That description is the last stereotype which can be made fun of. The presumption is that a Southern, White, Christian, Heterosexual, English-speaking male has achieved great affluence by oppressing, or robbing from, anyone who does not fulfill all of the same criteria.
If those factors beyond my control are making me rich, someone forgot to give me the blessed account number.
Undoubtedly, there are those who would be defined by geography, race, religion, sexuality, language, or gender. Their number is fundamentally small. They parrot Lou Dobbs, or embrace the ideas of any number of community advocates, or am radio talk hosts who teach that those who are from another area, race, religion, sexuality, language or gender are suspected of causing harm to the observer for simple virtue of being different.
As if most people had nothing better to do than cause problems for those different from themselves.
Each community has terms to describe individuals who have such poor self-image as to fear their judgement by dissimilar persons for the offense of being different. These same individuals are barricaded inside their homes, behind chain link fences, caches of weapons, marginally operable vehicles, and foul-natured dogs, so petrified of being powerless against the hordes opposing them to realize that they themselves have become impotent and imprisoned.
To those who live down to the standard of the slurs which may apply to me: The FBI is not coming to get you; the overwhelming majority of African-Americans have as little reason or desire to get in your businessas the overwhelming majority of European-Americans; Jews are not heading a worldwide conspiracy; homosexuals are not going to have Baptists put into internment camps for not performing gay weddings; forgiving Latin Americans who want to work would be a lot less costly in the long term than trying to throw out twenty years of arrivals without papers; and human rights should not be solely applicable with regard to genitalia.
One supposes that this may come from living in a home that is composed not unlike a Milky Way bar. The Wandering Gentile's blended home comes in several flavors which are best represented as nougat, caramel, and milk chocolate. Any joke about a Snickers bar would have your Wandering Gentile, on at least a couple of levels, represented as "nuts," and therefore is to be avoided. Like a Milky Way bar, all three flavors are capable of being quite wonderful on their own, and also like a Milky Way bar, the three flavors combine as greater than the sum of their parts.
Extend further, and the case could be made for an America which is also like a Milky Way bar. Our Asian friends will please be considerate of a desire to not appear condescending, pretentious, or gratuitously offensive by screwing further with the analogy. I am already in a bad enough world of hurt from having annoyed frightened, ignorant, and heavily armed people.
There is an unspoken promise of an Obama presidency, and a key component for some who have decided in favor of the Illinois senator. Unlike Reverend Jackson, who is dependent upon a population defined by devolving into the image made by bigots, either unwilling or incapable of thinking or speaking for themselves.
Obama, a master craftsman of words, chose to express that his toolbox was open. The raw materials were free, and the masters he tutored under stood ready to give their knowledge to the willing. The value of the lesson is that the low opinion of an ignorant individual is less of an obstacle than the low level of knowledge within one's own mind.
His path out of poverty, while certainly challenging, is surer than pinning one's hopes upon athletic prowess or skill as a musical performer. There was no condescencion implied that the skill and self-discipline necessary for success as an entertainer, if applied to education, would have a guaranteed result beyond what is found in entertainment.
As opposed to devolving into the stereotype, Senator Obama offers a path to a place at the table of free and franchised citizens. The ante is high, and frequently requires the effort of more than one adult, but the rewards are significant. Ten years invested in these behaviors can accumulate more wealth and establish more worth in a family than a millenium of government largesse.
One feels a deep sadness for Reverend Jackson. One morning, a few months ago, he went from being the leading all-time record holder for African-American political figures, to anachronism.
The idea that he would never see an African-American President in his lifetime went from probability to archaic remnant of Jim Crow with every primary Obama won. His role went from that of leader and agenda setter to elder statesman.
However, Reverend Jesse Jackson was not ready to be old. He was the last vestige of the era when African-American political figures were nearly universally segregated from white politicians in the Democratic party. He spoke out in anger and impotence, blowing the bridge to his former role as leader to Kingdom Come.
People who had needed his voice were no longer enslaved to the past. People who had needed his opinion were speaking out for themselves. Chain link fences are being removed; the decrepit cars junked; weapons decommissioned; dogs fed, bathed and walked. The Obama candidacy has acheived what had only been dreamed of.
One sees a future where people evolve from defining themselves by a racial slur, and join a broader America. It is a place where wishes for violence and people who profit from those choosing ignorance are seen as tragic symbols of a savage and brutish era.
Sweet as a Milky Way bar.
No, that probably wouldn't happen, nor would such a change in Your Wandering Gentile's normally sarcastic, febrile, and generally brutish tone. Brutish is a good word for the moment. It ably describes the idea that Reverend Jesse Jackson expressed wishes to castrate Senator Obama for "...talking down to (slur)s."
Oh no. Oh hell no. That old man did not just go there and dog Obama like that.
It's sad, really. Reverend Jackson has had a bipolar career, combining years of elevating the African-American community with one hand via rhetoric about empowerment, and striving for equal treatment and opportunity, and with the other hand suppressing the same population by pushing away calls for accountability as racist.
Equality without accountability is not equality. This comes from a Southern, White, Christian, Heterosexal, English-speaking male, which makes the suggestion suspect. That description is the last stereotype which can be made fun of. The presumption is that a Southern, White, Christian, Heterosexual, English-speaking male has achieved great affluence by oppressing, or robbing from, anyone who does not fulfill all of the same criteria.
If those factors beyond my control are making me rich, someone forgot to give me the blessed account number.
Undoubtedly, there are those who would be defined by geography, race, religion, sexuality, language, or gender. Their number is fundamentally small. They parrot Lou Dobbs, or embrace the ideas of any number of community advocates, or am radio talk hosts who teach that those who are from another area, race, religion, sexuality, language or gender are suspected of causing harm to the observer for simple virtue of being different.
As if most people had nothing better to do than cause problems for those different from themselves.
Each community has terms to describe individuals who have such poor self-image as to fear their judgement by dissimilar persons for the offense of being different. These same individuals are barricaded inside their homes, behind chain link fences, caches of weapons, marginally operable vehicles, and foul-natured dogs, so petrified of being powerless against the hordes opposing them to realize that they themselves have become impotent and imprisoned.
To those who live down to the standard of the slurs which may apply to me: The FBI is not coming to get you; the overwhelming majority of African-Americans have as little reason or desire to get in your businessas the overwhelming majority of European-Americans; Jews are not heading a worldwide conspiracy; homosexuals are not going to have Baptists put into internment camps for not performing gay weddings; forgiving Latin Americans who want to work would be a lot less costly in the long term than trying to throw out twenty years of arrivals without papers; and human rights should not be solely applicable with regard to genitalia.
One supposes that this may come from living in a home that is composed not unlike a Milky Way bar. The Wandering Gentile's blended home comes in several flavors which are best represented as nougat, caramel, and milk chocolate. Any joke about a Snickers bar would have your Wandering Gentile, on at least a couple of levels, represented as "nuts," and therefore is to be avoided. Like a Milky Way bar, all three flavors are capable of being quite wonderful on their own, and also like a Milky Way bar, the three flavors combine as greater than the sum of their parts.
Extend further, and the case could be made for an America which is also like a Milky Way bar. Our Asian friends will please be considerate of a desire to not appear condescending, pretentious, or gratuitously offensive by screwing further with the analogy. I am already in a bad enough world of hurt from having annoyed frightened, ignorant, and heavily armed people.
There is an unspoken promise of an Obama presidency, and a key component for some who have decided in favor of the Illinois senator. Unlike Reverend Jackson, who is dependent upon a population defined by devolving into the image made by bigots, either unwilling or incapable of thinking or speaking for themselves.
Obama, a master craftsman of words, chose to express that his toolbox was open. The raw materials were free, and the masters he tutored under stood ready to give their knowledge to the willing. The value of the lesson is that the low opinion of an ignorant individual is less of an obstacle than the low level of knowledge within one's own mind.
His path out of poverty, while certainly challenging, is surer than pinning one's hopes upon athletic prowess or skill as a musical performer. There was no condescencion implied that the skill and self-discipline necessary for success as an entertainer, if applied to education, would have a guaranteed result beyond what is found in entertainment.
As opposed to devolving into the stereotype, Senator Obama offers a path to a place at the table of free and franchised citizens. The ante is high, and frequently requires the effort of more than one adult, but the rewards are significant. Ten years invested in these behaviors can accumulate more wealth and establish more worth in a family than a millenium of government largesse.
One feels a deep sadness for Reverend Jackson. One morning, a few months ago, he went from being the leading all-time record holder for African-American political figures, to anachronism.
The idea that he would never see an African-American President in his lifetime went from probability to archaic remnant of Jim Crow with every primary Obama won. His role went from that of leader and agenda setter to elder statesman.
However, Reverend Jesse Jackson was not ready to be old. He was the last vestige of the era when African-American political figures were nearly universally segregated from white politicians in the Democratic party. He spoke out in anger and impotence, blowing the bridge to his former role as leader to Kingdom Come.
People who had needed his voice were no longer enslaved to the past. People who had needed his opinion were speaking out for themselves. Chain link fences are being removed; the decrepit cars junked; weapons decommissioned; dogs fed, bathed and walked. The Obama candidacy has acheived what had only been dreamed of.
One sees a future where people evolve from defining themselves by a racial slur, and join a broader America. It is a place where wishes for violence and people who profit from those choosing ignorance are seen as tragic symbols of a savage and brutish era.
Sweet as a Milky Way bar.
17 July 2008
Our Lady of Yaztremski
Just behind religion and politics, sports loyalties must be included among the things which will provoke grievous bodily harm.
That being said, the gentle reader will be advised that this is territory which is extremely hostile to the New York Yankees. Your Wandering Gentile's childhood in northern New England during the 1970's has empowered a passionate embrace of the Boston Red Sox, which is only rivaled by an equivalent sentiment for the Atlanta Braves.
It's fair. They play in different leagues.
A very dear friend of the blog is Shlomo from Lawn Guyland, New York. The friendship started with the words "Yankees or Mets." Only a true native of that part of the Empire State could correctly execute the profanity expelled in connection with Steinbrenner's Evil Empire. (Shlomo is not his real name, but I don't want to embarrass him by using his real name, Moses Horowitz.)
This is a place where your Wandering Gentile faces a conundrum. How does one reconcile The Buckner Play, and losing Tom Glavine? How does one account for the fact that his beloved Braves play in the same division as Shlomo's Mets?
It is not so hard. Our differences pale in contrast to our mutual hatred of Bronx Pinstripes, and their arrogant, self-entitled fans. Anything done by one of our teams is still not done by the Yankees. Besides, Mrs. Shlomo is a Braves fan and Mrs. Wandering Gentile has graciously accepted that I really hate the Yankees. I don't care if she lived in Jersey for 100 years.
Mrs. Wandering Gentile brought no loyalties to the marriage. Her daughters, however, attempted to convert me to the Yankees, albeit the conversion was something that was successfully achieved when the hijastras discovered a connection in heritage with several Mets and Red Sox players.
Disaster averted.
A couple of days ago, a story came across the wires that Brian Cashman of the Yankees is considering bringing Barry Bonds out of retirement. Apparently Matsui's season is over and Johnny Damon is hurt, too. The thought of Bonds as a Yankee inspired all of this rant.
Barry Bonds, New York Yankee. The thought provokes salivation as a Red Sox, Mets, or even Braves fan. He's better than perfect in pinstripes. Bonds should be rushed to the Bronx like a transplant organ, with a siren-blaring motorcade right up the Bruckner Expressway from JFK.
Bonds is the epitome of arrogance and an attitude that speaks to the idea that every action is in the pursuit of self-aggrandizement. He has 760-something home runs and zero World Series rings. His presence placed a behind in every seat in San Francisco, and they still chose to not renew his contract. In 1993, he stated that he wasn't worried about the Atlanta Braves when they were 9 1/2 games back, only to watch Atlanta take the division on the last day of the regular season.
Give me a break, and let's talk about Dale Murphy, Carl Yaztremski, and Marv Throneberry. There is a place for that class of ball player who plays hurt, gives everything, even carries his team when it would be easier to just concern himself with the business of inflating his stats and body via steroids.
Well, maybe Marv Throneberry isn't such a good example, but the point of Murph and Yaz being great players without a World Championship does need to be addressed. These were not arrogant crybabies. These were ballplayers of extraordinary skill and dedication to their teams, away from the taint of chemically enhanced records.
If anyone ever had the legitimate right to complain, Dale Murphy and Carl Yaztremski have it in spades. Yet they don't make the case for what was not achieved. Bonds feels entitled to impose himself upon the Major Leagues with the import of legend. Too bad for him that his self-image does not live up to his reality as an overinflated, well-past-his-prime prima donna, much like many on the Yankee roster.
The Red Sox are in first place, closely followed by Tampa Bay. The Yankees are sucking wind in third place, and in need of help. May Barry Bonds arrive in the Bronx and contribute in the same way he did in San Francisco.
Heh, heh, heh. Love that dirty water...
That being said, the gentle reader will be advised that this is territory which is extremely hostile to the New York Yankees. Your Wandering Gentile's childhood in northern New England during the 1970's has empowered a passionate embrace of the Boston Red Sox, which is only rivaled by an equivalent sentiment for the Atlanta Braves.
It's fair. They play in different leagues.
A very dear friend of the blog is Shlomo from Lawn Guyland, New York. The friendship started with the words "Yankees or Mets." Only a true native of that part of the Empire State could correctly execute the profanity expelled in connection with Steinbrenner's Evil Empire. (Shlomo is not his real name, but I don't want to embarrass him by using his real name, Moses Horowitz.)
This is a place where your Wandering Gentile faces a conundrum. How does one reconcile The Buckner Play, and losing Tom Glavine? How does one account for the fact that his beloved Braves play in the same division as Shlomo's Mets?
It is not so hard. Our differences pale in contrast to our mutual hatred of Bronx Pinstripes, and their arrogant, self-entitled fans. Anything done by one of our teams is still not done by the Yankees. Besides, Mrs. Shlomo is a Braves fan and Mrs. Wandering Gentile has graciously accepted that I really hate the Yankees. I don't care if she lived in Jersey for 100 years.
Mrs. Wandering Gentile brought no loyalties to the marriage. Her daughters, however, attempted to convert me to the Yankees, albeit the conversion was something that was successfully achieved when the hijastras discovered a connection in heritage with several Mets and Red Sox players.
Disaster averted.
A couple of days ago, a story came across the wires that Brian Cashman of the Yankees is considering bringing Barry Bonds out of retirement. Apparently Matsui's season is over and Johnny Damon is hurt, too. The thought of Bonds as a Yankee inspired all of this rant.
Barry Bonds, New York Yankee. The thought provokes salivation as a Red Sox, Mets, or even Braves fan. He's better than perfect in pinstripes. Bonds should be rushed to the Bronx like a transplant organ, with a siren-blaring motorcade right up the Bruckner Expressway from JFK.
Bonds is the epitome of arrogance and an attitude that speaks to the idea that every action is in the pursuit of self-aggrandizement. He has 760-something home runs and zero World Series rings. His presence placed a behind in every seat in San Francisco, and they still chose to not renew his contract. In 1993, he stated that he wasn't worried about the Atlanta Braves when they were 9 1/2 games back, only to watch Atlanta take the division on the last day of the regular season.
Give me a break, and let's talk about Dale Murphy, Carl Yaztremski, and Marv Throneberry. There is a place for that class of ball player who plays hurt, gives everything, even carries his team when it would be easier to just concern himself with the business of inflating his stats and body via steroids.
Well, maybe Marv Throneberry isn't such a good example, but the point of Murph and Yaz being great players without a World Championship does need to be addressed. These were not arrogant crybabies. These were ballplayers of extraordinary skill and dedication to their teams, away from the taint of chemically enhanced records.
If anyone ever had the legitimate right to complain, Dale Murphy and Carl Yaztremski have it in spades. Yet they don't make the case for what was not achieved. Bonds feels entitled to impose himself upon the Major Leagues with the import of legend. Too bad for him that his self-image does not live up to his reality as an overinflated, well-past-his-prime prima donna, much like many on the Yankee roster.
The Red Sox are in first place, closely followed by Tampa Bay. The Yankees are sucking wind in third place, and in need of help. May Barry Bonds arrive in the Bronx and contribute in the same way he did in San Francisco.
Heh, heh, heh. Love that dirty water...
05 July 2008
I Can Drive 55 (But I Don't Want To)
Senator John Warner (R-Virginia) has proposed bringing back a national speed limit.
Here's a better idea: If Senator Warner thinks 55 is such a good idea, let him slow down to 55 and lead by example. While he's at it, let's make sure he takes no fuel-using junkets in wasteful jets; he can move to a small home in Arlington on the Washington Metro, therefore not depriving the people of the Commonwealth of Virginia of his leadership; and he can cram a broken Compact Fluorescent light bulb up his torpedo tube. Talk about fire in the hole.
If Dennis Kucinich had made this motion, at least there would be the consolation in the knowledge that Kucinich is sincere. John Warner, scion of the elite, Secretary of the Navy under Richard Nixon, ex-husband of Elizabeth Taylor, and quasi-aristocrat in the peculiar American style is not a fair broker. This pontificating cretin, like Al Gore, presumes that his position and influence allow him to have better judgement than the people he governs.
All the while, there are 299 million people in this country who did not cast a vote for him in the last election.
There is a market for energy-saving and lower-polluting technologies. Market-based "green" solutions are not only desirable, the cost is coming closer to achieving parity with older and less efficient methods. The habit of efficiency and frugality is worthy, and societal pressures will provide a greater enforcement. (Think about how likely it is for someone to light a cigarette in a restaurant in 2008, and the point is made.)
However, Warner is a supporter of "Cap and Trade" greenhouse gas credits, enforced by the Federal Government. Good Lord, even George Harrison did not anticipate a tax on air in his seminal 1966 song "Taxman." Congratulations to Socialist-affiliated greenies! Not even the Soviets figured out how to tax air!
Not economically, anyway.
Now Warner wants to have Washington set the speed limits for Atlanta, Austin, and Helena. This was a poor idea in the 1970s, when Nixon and the EPA first did it, and there was a sigh of relief when Clinton finally did away with the despised federal oversight more than 20 years later. Republicans in DC have been making a mess of matters already under their bloated purview for the last decade, hitching their political wagon to ideological orthodoxy with zero regard for actual outcomes.
Activism is their right, but when one considers Ken Starr's pursuit of Clinton, the Iraq war, questionable review of commodities markets, deport-them-at-any-cost immigration legislation, and letting New Orleans drown, Democrats don't look so bad.
Okay, Clinton cheated on his wife, and then he lied about it. Considering Mrs. Clinton's mercurial demeanor, it may be inferred that Clinton was acting in the interests of his own self-preservation, or at least the preservation of Little Slick Willie. One will recall that a whole stack of Republicans shifted downward on clout level because they did not have any room to talk. Henry Hyde and Newt "The Grinch" Gingrich come immediately to mind.
Credit where it's due- Warner did not vote to convict.
Iraq is just a mess. The whole region has been a mess since the dawn of time, and all we did was hug Uncle Remus' Tar Baby, except it was Uncle W's petroleum baby. The surge is the least bad option, but time has come to get the hell out of there ASAP, find Osama, and be very loud about taking care of business.
The following should be credited to Mr. Drew, a sharp-eyed reader from Las Cruces, NM, who brought this idea to me first. The idea that US petroleum commodities markets are not well regulated has been around for quite some time. It would not take more than a couple of players to bluff the stakes up on the table, so to speak.
Considering that two OPEC countries, Venezuela and Iran, are led by men with an adversarial outlook and relationship with the United States, it is no challenge to see them collaborating on tactics which would be detrimental to the interests of the United States. Chavez and Ahmadinejad would certainly have historical knowledge of the actions which have proven to profitably catalyze world markets. Their privately-based counterparts in the United States are certainly capable of tacitly accepting behaviors which push the price of commodities in their hands beyond the level which normally would be accounted for by supply and demand.
Bush's connection to the petroleum industry, however tenuous, would suggest that a call could be placed along the lines of, "George, we're hurting out here in Midland, and checking the ethics of the petroleum markets could be very bad for our future fund-raising efforts." One would love to see the calls on Bush's cellular bill. Those 432, 806, 325 and 915 numbers don't all belong to Laura's mother.
A national speed limit only helps ensconce the mentality that regular folks aren't being punished enough. It does not find unethical behavior in petroleum markets. It merely criminalizes the Status Quo.
Speaking of criminalizing the Status Quo, Warner voted against cloture on the McCain-Kennedy Comprehensive Immigration Reform bill. Should the Gentle Reader still be firmly against such reform, there is but one question-How are these high food prices workin' out for ya? You were warned here in February, 2007.
As far as New Orleans goes, it was a major city until Katrina hit. While disdain for those who had the means and ability to get out and did not do so is justified, that does not exculpate letting a major city drown. That is one of those points where it was not enough to fly over. Somebody, no matter if there was an invitation, needed to have his happy butt on the ground in New Orleans, or at least close by, before the blamed storm ever hit.
The same reasoning goes for those who did not get out as for the Government not going in. If you see a storm the size of Texas taking aim on a place and you are not a responder, get out, and if you are a responder, be ready to go in as soon as the wind dies down. FEMA was certainly able to get supplies to Florida (coincidentally governed by the First Brother) when it got hit by four major 'canes in '04.
Malfeasance or Incompetence, the results were the same, and either justifies running the Rs out of DC on a rail. This is, of course, providing that Federal Boondoggle Amtrak decides to show up today. Yes, that great Republican Nixon was the rocket scientist who nationalized passenger rail service. Now our choices for most US destinations are either by plane, car, or riding the dog. Way to save fuel.
Now for the sad part-there will be no need to vote John Warner out of office. He's quitting at the end of his term in January. Leave it to a man with nothing to lose to propose something as asinine as a return to federal control of speed limits.
GEORGE CARLIN 1937-2008
The Godfather of Free Thought is dead at 71. The though of this was so devastating that Your Wandering Gentile was unable to comment until now.
However, there is one thing that should be stated. Mark Twain is no longer alone, such was Carlin's contribution to American satire. Both were reviled as profane by bigots, liars, and prudes, and both will matter long after death.
As millions now revere Twain, it is not unbelievable that Carlin, iconoclast and renegade from the buttoned-down tightened-up postwar culture, will be deemed worthy of study by generations in the future. How fortunate we were to share our time with him.
Here's a better idea: If Senator Warner thinks 55 is such a good idea, let him slow down to 55 and lead by example. While he's at it, let's make sure he takes no fuel-using junkets in wasteful jets; he can move to a small home in Arlington on the Washington Metro, therefore not depriving the people of the Commonwealth of Virginia of his leadership; and he can cram a broken Compact Fluorescent light bulb up his torpedo tube. Talk about fire in the hole.
If Dennis Kucinich had made this motion, at least there would be the consolation in the knowledge that Kucinich is sincere. John Warner, scion of the elite, Secretary of the Navy under Richard Nixon, ex-husband of Elizabeth Taylor, and quasi-aristocrat in the peculiar American style is not a fair broker. This pontificating cretin, like Al Gore, presumes that his position and influence allow him to have better judgement than the people he governs.
All the while, there are 299 million people in this country who did not cast a vote for him in the last election.
There is a market for energy-saving and lower-polluting technologies. Market-based "green" solutions are not only desirable, the cost is coming closer to achieving parity with older and less efficient methods. The habit of efficiency and frugality is worthy, and societal pressures will provide a greater enforcement. (Think about how likely it is for someone to light a cigarette in a restaurant in 2008, and the point is made.)
However, Warner is a supporter of "Cap and Trade" greenhouse gas credits, enforced by the Federal Government. Good Lord, even George Harrison did not anticipate a tax on air in his seminal 1966 song "Taxman." Congratulations to Socialist-affiliated greenies! Not even the Soviets figured out how to tax air!
Not economically, anyway.
Now Warner wants to have Washington set the speed limits for Atlanta, Austin, and Helena. This was a poor idea in the 1970s, when Nixon and the EPA first did it, and there was a sigh of relief when Clinton finally did away with the despised federal oversight more than 20 years later. Republicans in DC have been making a mess of matters already under their bloated purview for the last decade, hitching their political wagon to ideological orthodoxy with zero regard for actual outcomes.
Activism is their right, but when one considers Ken Starr's pursuit of Clinton, the Iraq war, questionable review of commodities markets, deport-them-at-any-cost immigration legislation, and letting New Orleans drown, Democrats don't look so bad.
Okay, Clinton cheated on his wife, and then he lied about it. Considering Mrs. Clinton's mercurial demeanor, it may be inferred that Clinton was acting in the interests of his own self-preservation, or at least the preservation of Little Slick Willie. One will recall that a whole stack of Republicans shifted downward on clout level because they did not have any room to talk. Henry Hyde and Newt "The Grinch" Gingrich come immediately to mind.
Credit where it's due- Warner did not vote to convict.
Iraq is just a mess. The whole region has been a mess since the dawn of time, and all we did was hug Uncle Remus' Tar Baby, except it was Uncle W's petroleum baby. The surge is the least bad option, but time has come to get the hell out of there ASAP, find Osama, and be very loud about taking care of business.
The following should be credited to Mr. Drew, a sharp-eyed reader from Las Cruces, NM, who brought this idea to me first. The idea that US petroleum commodities markets are not well regulated has been around for quite some time. It would not take more than a couple of players to bluff the stakes up on the table, so to speak.
Considering that two OPEC countries, Venezuela and Iran, are led by men with an adversarial outlook and relationship with the United States, it is no challenge to see them collaborating on tactics which would be detrimental to the interests of the United States. Chavez and Ahmadinejad would certainly have historical knowledge of the actions which have proven to profitably catalyze world markets. Their privately-based counterparts in the United States are certainly capable of tacitly accepting behaviors which push the price of commodities in their hands beyond the level which normally would be accounted for by supply and demand.
Bush's connection to the petroleum industry, however tenuous, would suggest that a call could be placed along the lines of, "George, we're hurting out here in Midland, and checking the ethics of the petroleum markets could be very bad for our future fund-raising efforts." One would love to see the calls on Bush's cellular bill. Those 432, 806, 325 and 915 numbers don't all belong to Laura's mother.
A national speed limit only helps ensconce the mentality that regular folks aren't being punished enough. It does not find unethical behavior in petroleum markets. It merely criminalizes the Status Quo.
Speaking of criminalizing the Status Quo, Warner voted against cloture on the McCain-Kennedy Comprehensive Immigration Reform bill. Should the Gentle Reader still be firmly against such reform, there is but one question-How are these high food prices workin' out for ya? You were warned here in February, 2007.
As far as New Orleans goes, it was a major city until Katrina hit. While disdain for those who had the means and ability to get out and did not do so is justified, that does not exculpate letting a major city drown. That is one of those points where it was not enough to fly over. Somebody, no matter if there was an invitation, needed to have his happy butt on the ground in New Orleans, or at least close by, before the blamed storm ever hit.
The same reasoning goes for those who did not get out as for the Government not going in. If you see a storm the size of Texas taking aim on a place and you are not a responder, get out, and if you are a responder, be ready to go in as soon as the wind dies down. FEMA was certainly able to get supplies to Florida (coincidentally governed by the First Brother) when it got hit by four major 'canes in '04.
Malfeasance or Incompetence, the results were the same, and either justifies running the Rs out of DC on a rail. This is, of course, providing that Federal Boondoggle Amtrak decides to show up today. Yes, that great Republican Nixon was the rocket scientist who nationalized passenger rail service. Now our choices for most US destinations are either by plane, car, or riding the dog. Way to save fuel.
Now for the sad part-there will be no need to vote John Warner out of office. He's quitting at the end of his term in January. Leave it to a man with nothing to lose to propose something as asinine as a return to federal control of speed limits.
GEORGE CARLIN 1937-2008
The Godfather of Free Thought is dead at 71. The though of this was so devastating that Your Wandering Gentile was unable to comment until now.
However, there is one thing that should be stated. Mark Twain is no longer alone, such was Carlin's contribution to American satire. Both were reviled as profane by bigots, liars, and prudes, and both will matter long after death.
As millions now revere Twain, it is not unbelievable that Carlin, iconoclast and renegade from the buttoned-down tightened-up postwar culture, will be deemed worthy of study by generations in the future. How fortunate we were to share our time with him.
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