Presidential primary season is still about a year off and already the punditry are in full throat. The right is, of course, prepping for a fight with Hillary Clinton, the prodigal lefty that never saw a “centrist” position she did not like, at least after running for Senate. I remember the Hillary that sought real health care reform in this country as First Lady, the woman who was not afraid of the words “socialized medicine.” She is long gone and we will never see her again. Properly chastised by her husband’s new-found pals in the financial industry, the same pals that led his predecessor and successor down the path to deregulation, the once anti-war Mrs. Rodham-Clinton embraced her inner chicken hawk as both a Senator and Secretary of State. We can be assured of a continuation of this under President Rodham-Clinton. Something we on the left will be expected to be grateful for because, you know, the alternative.
I have a lot to say about the whole Kanye v. Beck affair. I may write a lengthier essay on white privilege and white supremacy and how they factor into attitudes about the whole thing, but for now I will let this poem speak for me. I am sure there will be those who will take the last stanza and try to make some comment about affirmative action based on it. I would advise against that.
I just have been busy with a million other things including writing projects I don’t share here for one reason or another. I have been working toward my (yes I made one despite my snarkiness on the matter) New Years resolution of treating writing like a job and so far I have been somewhat successful on that end. A sort of working stay-cation house sitting for my former employers (they sold the book shop and hopefully are enjoying their retirement) is giving me the opportunity to kick those efforts up a notch and drastically improve my time management, with the help of a work schedule that gives me time to do that (thank you Cody and John.) In any case, I am back, with a burning need to post and be read.
I try not to be overly critical of those at least trying to put themselves in the shoes of others. The problem is the attempts seem so shallow, like well, I’ll let the poem say it… Continue reading
This week a satirist was murdered in His name. The year before last an American pastor was trying to convince an African nation to murder ten percent of its population in His name. Right here in America doctors are gunned down in His name. For years people in Israel have been butchering each other in His name. If He’s out there, I hope he’s sick of all that is done in His name, and if not I don’t give one tenth of a fuck what He thinks. Continue reading
I am beginning to think my oft repeated idea that people in the Untied States treat politics like a football game may be a bit off the mark. I am wondering if maybe treating it like fashion is perhaps a better comparison. We wear our political associations like accessories and those who do not “get it” are losers, or worse, that deserve whatever fate awaits them. Americans in public discourse, or even the semi public sphere of online forums, rush to show off their conservative or liberal bona fides, or even their radical credentials if that is where their politics lie, eager to show how much more with it they are than those around them. So shallow are their devotions to their ideas of a just world, however one imagines that might be accomplished, that they see no problem sharing crap like this: Continue reading
She is not grown up, no matter what she thinks. Dale knows this as he drives all the way to Ithaca and she sits in the middle row of their minivan earbuds piping that banal crap she loves so much (really, when did any sense of adventure leave the music industry?) She wants to pretend it is no big deal but he knows better. His little Sarah is going to be alone, every day, without him or Connie there to support her. Who is she going to go to when life starts throwing the inevitable at her. Continue reading