(Cross posted to Broadsides.org)

Global weirding, as global warming is now being more accurately called, is now sharing the stage — and our collective psyches – with economic weirding. And both seem like metaphors for each other. Images of Hurricane Ike crashing into Texas over the weekend could easily be used to capture the essence of this morning’s financial markets. Similarly, the frenzied traders on Wall Street this morning are ducking and covering from a financial hurricane of their own. And yes, both storms – financial and weather – can be traced back to find the human hand attached to both.

Today’s market crash will give the presidential campaigns of McCain and Obama – the supposed “change” agents — much to sling mud about. In fact, the first mud was flung only moments after the news about a possible Lehman Brothers bankruptcy was announced yesterday. The Obama campaign went on autopilot and fired off its upteenbillionth statement blaming it all on Bush and the McCain campaign responded just as predictably by declaring for the upteenbillionth time that he has more experience to calm the economic waters.

Both, of course, are full of it – and themselves.  

First, let’s look at Obama’s hubris. The Obama campaign continues to fall prey to riding the same one-trick pony that brought down the Gore and Kerry campaigns: Run against Bush. But, as a brief look back to the not-so-distant past should tell us (and them): It doesn’t work. And, worse, it continues to highlight the eight-years of “me-tooism” that has plagued the Dems. Sure, Bush wanted the war. But the Dems gave the congressional authorization. And, as I’ve said here repeatedly of late, the same holds true for almost all of the other oft-mentioned “great sins” of the Bush years.

Obama and the Dems have done little during the eight years of the Bush political frat party other than provide them with all the free alcohol they want and then stand back and act outraged (!) over their drunkenness.  Funny how that works. And, sorry, the votes don’t lie and vote after vote after vote during the last eight years shows little more than Democratic capitulation on everything from war, to civil liberties, to the environment and, yes, the economy.

But before the Obama campaign gets itself too far up on its high horse when it comes to blaming the current financial mess on Bush, let’s look at some facts.

First, let’s follow the money. According to the Center for Responsive Politics, the Obama campaign has received nearly $60 million in contributions from the “financial, insurance and real estate” industries. The McCain campaign has reported taking nearly $55 million from those same industries. And the conclusion? Change, my ass. Because the financial industries have been hedging their bets and – almost equally – invested deeply into both parties and campaigns. And all they’ve wanted in return for their investment is the inaction they’ve been getting, as in: Hands-off. Well, until the bailout money is needed.

It’s obvious that both campaigns and both parties are neck-deep in the dung of the current financial mess. Sure, the Bush administration may have been asking for the market freedoms, but the Dems have been doing little but rolling over for belly scratches when real opposition or oversight was in order.

Here’s how Floyd Norris of the New York Times summed up the financial hurricane that touched down on Wall Street over the weekend:

Those who were complaining, only months ago, that excessive regulation was making American markets uncompetitive, had it exactly wrong. It was a lack of regulation of the shadow financial system and its players that allowed this to happen. The regulators might not have gotten it right if they had tried to put limits on leverage, or assure that it was clear what risks were being taken, in the world of derivatives and securitizations. But deciding not to even try, and assuming that risks traded secretly would somehow end up in the hands of those most able to bear them, reflected ideology, not analysis.

And those complaining about the “excessive regulation” were, interestingly enough, the same folks who were putting $60 million into the Obama campaign and $55 million into the McCain campaign. Nice investments if you can make ’em.

But let’s not allow the McCain campaign’s weirding go unnoticed in all of this. Only days after ditching his “experience” mantra and hitting the campaign equivalent of the “refresh” button by selecting Sarah Palin and adopting the “change” mantra, McCain is back to experience. Dizzy yet? Suddenly, with the markets tumbling and our nation’s financial foundation trembling, all that folksy moose hunting and disregard for contraception doesn’t seem quite so cute, does it?

Drill, baby, drill? Nah. Sell, baby, sell. And now.  

(Cross posted at Broadsides.org)

Ah, there’s nothing like a threat to Wall Street bankers that brings socialism front and center to America’s politics. With one, big “never mind” when it came to all their rhetoric about “free markets,” the glories and fairness of capitalism, and rugged individualism, Republicans and Democrats joined for a sloppy embrace and a gigantic tax-payer bailout of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac last weekend.

Citizens take note: You know it’s prime fleecing season when both political parties, both houses of Congress, both presidential candidates and almost all of the mainstream media join together to provide a blank check to two banking institutions in financial trouble. And how quickly they acted! With one seemingly magical statement by Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson, the bankers’ worries were over. Viola! And, suddenly, the same government that only days before during the political conventions was being called big and bad was now essential to the well being of the nation. Imagine that.

But those of us with our thinking caps on and even a semi-functioning memory (thanks Google), will recall all the hemming and hawing from those same political parties, presidential candidates and members of the media when the mortgage crisis was primarily hurting the homeowners – not the lenders (yet). Back then, the words from Washington were all about tough love and tough luck, with nary a quick action or bailout in sight.

But then the mortgage crisis started to trickle up, making the bankers nervous and, finally, vulnerable. And then the Adam Smith-like lectures were tossed to the side and out came a surreal Marxian-like plan to – huh? — “save the bankers!”  Yes, indeed, bankers of the world, unite!

If, however, there is to be any true banker reunion in all this, it needs to be held in the courthouses and, eventually, the prisons. Because if the $30 million in salary and bonuses the heads of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were giving themselves – and themselves alone – just last year while millions of men, women and children were getting the boot from their homes isn’t illegal, I’m not sure what is. But don’t hold your breath while waiting for one of the political parties to run with that idea. Bankers are great campaign contributors, you know. And even better lobbyists.

Both parties have totally and completely dropped the ball on this mortgage crisis, sitting idly while families were evicted from their homes and failing to act until the moneyed elite started to feel the heat. The Bush administration might have been running the show but the Democratically-controlled Congress was nodding with approval and/or sleep all along the way.

It was the Democrats, for example, who handed Bush and Paulson the blank check and authority to manage this crisis in July. And now, proving once again that they have no shame, it’s those same Democrats who are crying foul over how Bush and Paulson are using the power that they gave them. Hmm, sound familiar? Hint: Think Iraq.

Here’s how the New York Times (9.9.08) reported on Senator Christopher Dodd’s (D-CT) reaction to Paulson’s handling of the crisis:

“We accepted [Paulson] at his word that all he needed was the authority and that he wasn’t going to exercise it. Then he used his authority very aggressively,” an angry-sounding Mr. Dodd said in a telephone conference call with reporters. He indicated that he would approach any future commitments by the outgoing administration more skeptically.

“Fool me once, your fault,” he said. “Fool me twice, my fault.”

He’s joking, right? Wrong. Sorry, Mr. Dodd, but you’ve been fooled a hell of a lot more times than twice. I mean, doesn’t his above quote sound exactly like the Democrats’ talking points when it came to the Iraq War? As in: We gave Bush the authority but we didn’t think he was going to use it. In fact, the same thing could be said about the Patriot Act, FISA, vote counting and so, so much more.

Oh, Mr. Dodd, we only wish you and yours had only been fooled twice.

But don’t expect this new-found socialism streak to last long. Well, unless some other economic trouble rocks the millionaires. Yep, in America, socialism is for the rich. While the rest of us will keep getting the free market lectures and fighting for the policy crumbs that happen to fall off their table.

(Cross posted on Broadsides.org)

Oh no, guess what? The liberals are nervous. Yep, the obedient lib-Dems are finally starting to realize that the little party they were having in the immediate aftermath of the Sarah Palin selection may have been a bit premature. Oops.

Liberals never learn. Dems can’t seem to win. And the two phenomena are as connected as John McCain’s eyes have been connected to Palin’s ass.

Drunk on their Obama Kool-aid, the lib-Dems have been putting together their fantasy cabinet selections, planning their election-night party plans, and trying to figure out whom to meet or whom to give money to in order to get some prized inaugural dance tickets. In their minds, this presidential race was over before they could even dismantle the faux-stage at their faux-convention.

Cue screeching car sound – as in: The rubber hitting the road.

Because the polling news hasn’t been good. While the lib-Dems have been blogging and pontificating themselves into a stupor over all the stupid stuff about Palin, the American people have been moving away from Obama and toward – say what? – the McCain/Palin ticket. And the movement has been significant enough for the likes of Kos, AmericaBlog  and Talking Points Memo – three leading liberal blogs – to use words like “panic,” “worried” and “overestimated” while describing the current state of affairs.  

Worse, the lib-Dems are refusing to look in the mirror while trying to come up with a reason for the Obama/Biden slip in the polls and the near-derailment in its messaging. Instead, they keep hitting the whining button and doing what they hate most in their conservative counterparts: Blaming the media and getting slimier and slimier with their personal attacks. Anything, in fact, but face the fact that their candidates and their party have all but abandoned “the issues” at the very moment when voters are beginning to ponder them.

If, as political scientists like to tell us, this is the time when voters start to pay attention, consider what they’re hearing from Obama and the Democratic Party:

* On the Iraq War, Obama was pushed into saying that the “surge worked beyond anyone’s wildest expectations” to the Fox News blowhard, Bill O’Reilly. Despite being an inaccurate – if not completely spineless – position, it effectively handed what was the number one issue directly over to Mr. Surge himself, John McCain.

* On energy issues, the Dems are in the middle of doing an about-face on offshore drilling. Instead of showing some spine and sanity in the face of the Republican’s new – and scary – hit chant of “drill baby, drill,” the Dems are flip-flopping like McCain on the issue and, according to The Hill, preparing to help pass new offshore drilling allowances.

* On health care, the Obama campaign continues to muddy and muddle through a confusing and all-but-impossible to understand “solution” that will allow the insurance companies and “the market” to remain in control. If it sounds a lot like the Hilary plan of 1993, well, it is. And we all know how that ended up – 15 long years ago. Thanks Dems. Sorry, but any health care plan from the Dems that doesn’t include the words “universal” or “single-payer” is just a pale imitation of the Republicans’ plan. In other words, not much change there.

And that’s what the lib-Dems don’t get: When you talk the talk of change, you’ve also got to walk the walk. Otherwise, you look like John Kerry or Al Gore. You know, two guys who took the voting public for fools by refusing to stand firm on their issues, changed issue-horses in mid-stream and, as a result, were both L.O.S.E.R.S.

Earth to the lib-Dems: This is no time to silence yourselves when it comes to the issues. This is the time to stand firm, talk tough and demand that your beloved Obama/Biden ticket listen to you. You know, kind of like the Christian right threatened to stay home unless one of their own was put on the McCain ticket. And then down came Palin.

Sadly – if not completely predictable – this election is starting to look like a rerun, complete with the liberal “shock, shock, shock!”

Yes, indeed: It’s the issues, stupid.

(Cross posted on Broadsides.org)

Let’s do Sarah Palin. Wait. That didn’t sound right. So, make that: Let’s consider Sarah Palin. I’ve been pondering words about Palin all weekend but every time I tore myself away from the unbearable relaxation of the holiday weekend and thought I was going to string two or three thoughts together, the terms of the discussion would change. I mean, how fast did the discussion morph from Palin’s “fake birth” (thanks, Kos!), to her daughter’s real birth? Nanoseconds.

And, of course, we only have the Internet and the self-important liberal bloggers to blame for the whiplash-like speed to which the Palin story has been changing.

If, as they like to declare, the Denver Dem-lovefest was their “finest hour,” the Palin coverage in the days that followed has certainly been the liberal blogosphere’s darkest hour. No sooner than they were able to unpack and frame their “official” passes to the Dem Party in Denver, the lib-blogs snarled at the gentle rain on their parade that the McCain campaign provided by picking-say what?! – a goddamn woman.

Ouch. There’s nothing that pisses a liberal off more than having a politically-correct trump card played before they’ve even had time to clean up from the mess of their premature victory ejaculation. Dude!

But the Palin card was played and the response was u.g.l.y. – just as the McCain folks were certainly hoping. Sure, it hasn’t been smooth sailing for the Republicans, but I’ll bet the upper-tiers of the McCain campaign are happy that the initial Palin attacks were largely blown away by the coverage of Hurricane Gustav.

There is, after all, nothing more ugly than liberals beating up a woman, a mother of five, an elected (and popular) governor, and, by all accounts, a hyperkinetic outsider who has reached the top in what is certainly considered to be a real man’s state. Good luck with that.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty to attack when it comes to attacking Palin. You know, things like THE ISSUES. But the lib-dips have taken the McCain bait and, instead, decided to run with breathless (and untrue) stories about her “fake pregnancy,” her faux-scandals (trooper-gate, snore), flying while pregnant, and her connection with an Alaska independence party that believed in localism and – yes – independence. Gasp! The silliest aspect to the lib-dip coverage was its use of rightwing Alaska Republicans’ quotes about Palin. Yo, fellas – because, they are mostly fellas – the rightwing Republicans hate her because she pulled the rug out from under the self-proclaimed “good ole boys” that ruled the roost before she chased them from office.

Like I said, stick to the issues. You know, things like her anti-choice position, her pro-drilling position (no pun intended – hey, she IS a mother of five), and her disastrous environmental record that can be summed up by three words: Fuck the bears. Well, not literally. But you get my point.

And, please, stop with the “experience” nonsense. Do the Dems know how many women and thinking men that the “no experience” argument is totally and completely pissing off – especially in an election cycle that has been monopolized by Barack Obama’s helium-filled balloons of “change”? Warning: Palin will eat the wine glass lib-dips alive with that accusation if she ever gets the chance.

Speaking of experience, here’s a fun little snippet from Dennis Perrin (http://dennisperrin.blogspot.com), one of my newly found favorite bloggers:

Watching the libsphere in hysterics over Sarah Palin has been entertaining, and no attack on her is considered too low or too coarse to post in a comments section. Apart from her reactionary positions, the main lib beef, as I recently noted, is with her inexperience. Liberals demand seasoned insiders like Joe Biden to help guide the empire, someone who can properly manage the machinery of state, bomb the right countries, spy on the right people, and above all, normalize imperial matters after eight years of “wrong” turns. Palin is an affront to their sense of professionalism. Thus the constant abuse.

Bingo.

Damn, I miss the issues. But, unfortunately, we’re all stuck in some kind of nightmarish sitcom-like presidential campaign, whereby the issues are damned while we take thoughtless swims in the varnish that will – hopefully – fend the scuff of meaning away for at least another four years.

(Cross posted at Broadsides.org)

Just when I thought I could take a breather from the shallow end of mainstream politics, up steps Grandpa McCain with his best imitation of the dirty old man with his selection of Sarah Palin as his vice presidential nominee. Come on, did you see how creepy McCain looked while lurking about the podium while Palin tried to speak? Watch it, Johnny-boy, because Sarah’s hubby races snowmobiles. But, then again, with an ice-cold wife like Cindy, Johnny’s certainly used to getting his ass kicked around.

McCain’s selection of Palin, however, could certainly be the pinprick to the Obama hope balloon that the Republicans – and the Clinton’s – have been looking for. And he’s delivered it before all those adoring Obama fans even had time to wipe the running eyeliner off their cheeks from last night’s tears of elation. Oh, the beauty of…of… of… oh yeah, hope. Whatever.

I ran into a staunch Democrat this morning while picking up my morning newspapers and, after uttering the obligatory “it was great” mantra with that far away look in his eyes that seemed to be searching for some proof – any proof! – for his feelings, he came forward with this whispered caveat: “But why did Obama soft-pedal his critique of Bush/Cheney?”

The answer was simple. Because Obama’s Democratic Party and, in many cases Obama himself (FISA, Patriot Act reauthorization, Iraq War funding, etc.) did NOTHING to stop Bush/Cheney. And they know it. It’s the modern Democratic Party dilemma of being terminally disqualified at election season based on its own legislative season inanities. Remember the mid-term election of 2006, for example, when the Democrats told us that with control of both houses of Congress they’d be able to stymie that twin tower of bastardism, Bush/Cheney? And how, exactly, did that work out for us? Cue Emily Latela and one more, big “never mind” to the nation.

Sadly, the Democrats seem to be all about the next, great rainbow chase over the horizon. They all but sit on their hands during the Republican rainy seasons (and, let’s face it, it’s been pouring for eight years), roll out their next, great rainbow candidates (Gore! Kerry! Obama!) in the election seasons, and then send their faithful and ever-forgiving followers out searching for that elusive pot of gold. For Democrats, the bullshit of election season continues to hijack their ever-so-meager attempts at accomplishment during legislative season. And around and around they go.

Repugnant as it is, when the smarmy Republicans want a world war, by golly, they start one. Worse, they let it linger and fester and drain us all until…well…they find a new one! Hey, it’s not as if the Democrats – at least the ELECTED Democrats – are going to stop them.

But wait. This was supposed to be about Sarah Palin (cue sound of screeching halt).

Let’s face it, Grandpa McCain hit the trusty “refresh” key with his choice of Palin. Oh sure, it all amounts to one more warm piss in the kiddie pool of a campaign season stuck in the shallow end (nothing new there), but, if shallowness shall rule (hope, anyone?), McCain just upped the ante by playing his Palin card.

Let’s recap the game as it’s now being played out seemingly without parental approval: Obama has hope. McCain has experience. Biden has experience. Palin has hope.

Oh fuck, checkmate.

But, in this case, we’re the losers. Yeah, “we”, as in: we, the people. Because the more the two corporate parties are hell-bent on dragging us down this moronic road of nothing but clichés, the more the great spectacle of nothing in particular distracts us all from a whole lot of important matters. You know, those “silly” and “distracting” things like war, peace, health care, global warming and the like.

By now, we all know why McCain picked Palin: She’s young, she’s a woman, she’s an outsider and she’s conservative. In other words, she’s “better” than Hillary Clinton when it comes to rule number one in the not-so-great game of presidential politics: Superficial appeal is all that matters.

McCain and the Republicans are all but wetting themselves with their hopes that the Democrats will begin attacking Palin for (what?) being young, energetic, an outsider and – oh no, here comes that word again – hopeful. Hmm, all that seems to sound familiar. Oh yeah, that’s all sooooo Obama.

Better yet, McCain and the Republicans are hoping beyond hope that the Obama faithful childish trashing of Palin will only further irk the Hillary crowd, which as you’ll recall, doesn’t just include women but also the working class that Palin and her husband just happen to come from.

Oh my, we are, indeed, a nation stuck in the shallow end of what should be a very large political pool. Sooner or later the lifeguards have got to declare that it’s “adult swim time,” no?

(Cross posted at Broadsides.org)

The so-called blogging revolution is dead. Yep, stick a fork in it. And it died in Denver in the lap of the Democratic Party – purring happily and doing nothing at its death but holding a mini-cam in its paws so as to document its last, pathetic moments.

Let’s face it: Blogging is the new opiate of the current activist generations. Instead of hitting the streets, disrupting the conventions, confronting the power elites or penning their own Port Heron statements, the new blogger generation is busy taking photos of those taking photos of them while they all race to the nearest wireless connection to be the first to upload the photos of nothing really in particular. But they were there! And they’ve got the photos to prove it, damn it.

Quick, someone put out the memo: Blogging is NOT activism. Because simply telling someone about something doesn’t mean you did anything about it – no matter how fast your Internet connection or your prowess with YouTube is.

Take, for example, the bloggers and the current Democratic Convention. If only half of those filling the bloggers’ official home in Denver – known as the “Big Tent” – put down their cameras, their Blackberries, their laptops, and their cutesy “look where I am!” commentaries long enough to actually join in the protests and the activism going on under their noses, the Democratic Party might be forced to actually address some important issues. You know, things like the war (remember that?), health care, global warming, the housing crisis, and – oh yeah – jobs.

Instead, the bloggers (for the most part – because there are some exceptions) are ego-bent on making the story in Denver more like a remake of a Chevy Chase vacation flick than a chance to actually provide some insight into the struggles, the challenges, the power, the privilege and the activist possibilities of it all.

While digesting more coverage of the convention than I thought I could stomach, I’ve been particularly struck by the coverage of the protests outside. Specifically, I’ve noticed how few protesters there are compared to how many people are standing around documenting the protests. Sadly, somewhere along the line, documenting attempts at change became “cooler” than actually risking something and participating in change.

The Howard Dean-led Democratic National Committee took it all one-step further, too: They made the blogs fight for the “one pass per state” to come into the convention as “official” participants. And so, like little fish fighting for the hook, they trampled upon each other and lunged for the almighty bite of – say what? – an inside ticket. Ah, bait ’em with “access,” bring ’em in with a ticket and then own ’em. Because, once inside, they know who’s buttering their bread.

The result, of course, has been one gooey-eyed report after another from the “anointed bloggers,” gushing continuously about “the history,” “the enthusiasm,” “the celebrities” (oh-my-God, is that Walter Mondale?) and the absolute “importance” of it all – with photos and video!!!! Mission accomplished, Mr. Dean, the blogger lapdogs have been neutered.

It’s more than sad to think that the more media – mainstream and citizen – that there is at this convention has equated to less meaningful coverage. I mean, how much have you read about the rallies, the protests or the issues? Instead, we know more than we’d ever want to know about the mood, the cheers, the celebrities (is that Susan Sarandon?) and how “exhausting” it all is for the poor, insider bloggers.  

For the most part, blogging has become about witnessing. And the more people are merely witnessing – especially with tickets to the inside – the less people are “doing.” Indeed, “instant” messaging has replaced “effective” messaging.

Ding-dong, the blogging revolution is dead.

(Cross posted at Broadsides.org)

Repeat after me: We’re a long, long way from Plato. Or Socrates. Or any other great, Greek thinker on democracy. Because, baby, today it’s all about style, soundbites, sophomoric jabs, mind-boggling contradictions and – oh yeah – one, big spectacle intended to do one and only one thing: Negate substance.

I’m speaking, of course, of the political circus that is now capturing America’s post-Olympic attention: The Democratic National Convention. Quick, before it ends: Feel the nothingness of it all.

Conventions, in case you forgot, used to be about picking a candidate, about ironing out the party’s platform and about hashing and re-hashing the differences between the factions. But that is all sooooo yesterday. Because today’s political conventions are about anything but what they used to be about.

Debates have been replaced with pom-poms. Votes have been replaced with soft-focused documentaries of the long ago “chosen one.” And policy debates have been kicked outside behind 10-foot fences, cops in riot gear and the threat of Guantanamo-like accommodations for anyone who dares to spoil “the show.”

But wait. What about the people? One, two, three: Fuck the people.

Because, you idiot, this is the political playground of the rich and famous who are rich and famous enough to make you think that their rich and famousness are still powerful enough to make you sit in awe as they parade around a stage sponsored by Coke AND Pepsi while still pretending that they care. In other words: Ass, meet face. And enjoy the week.

The biggest irony in the very non-democratic show that is taking place in Denver this week is the way the Democratic Party hierarchy has managed to completely co-opt the liberal blogosphere. Frankly, it’s nothing short of pure genius how the Dean-led DNC held up a cookie for the oh-so-eager liberal blogs, asked them to sit, and then – realizing they had their full attention — offered the most obedient blog from each state a “free blogging pass” to the stinky spectacle that is about as spontaneous as a Wayne Newton concert. Good boys and girls. Now roll over, start drooling, and, better yet, send home posts about the pure spectacle of it all. Yawn.

Here in Vermont, where all things by Vermonters are considered to be next to holiness despite the inanity of most of it (I mean, come on, we still think Rusty DeWees is funny and Bernie Sanders is a socialist), the great anointed blog by the DNC to “cover” its convention is the Green Mountain Daily blog. You know, the folks who do little but steal from the mainstream AND alternative media but then pout until the cows come home for not being recognized for their ability to steal from the same sources they stole from. Oh yeah, I forgot: Have blog, assume you’re a media God.

But this is “their moment,” a chance to have an “official pass” and prove that their coverage is oh-so needed to provide the people with a view of the spectacle that they would otherwise not be getting (did they not know that there was 24/7 coverage on numerous channels?).

Soooo, let’s check in on their coverage. Oh wait, cut, cut, cut. Because it seems like they’re all just “tired.” Odum, J.D, and Avard of GMD, for example, all made the their first posting all about how early they had to get up, how tired they were, and how the travel was exhausting. Avard, however, did manage enough coffee to provide us with this starry-eyed nugget:

“…I was sitting outside, going through my Big Tent “goodie bag,” I saw George Stephanopolous. We made eye-contact, nodded to each other, and he went in the bookstore.”

Oh please, tell me more. And let the blogging revolution begin!

But, if you want to dig deeper into the Vermont blogging coverage, you can find Philip Baruth of both the Vermont Daily Briefing and the Free Press telling us all about his stepping into cat puke and making damn sure we all knew about his political persuasions by posting his favorite photo of him staring lovingly into the eyes of Obama with a look that says little more than “how many ways can I bend over for you?”

Oh my, I remember when the blogs were supposed to be about the new media revolution. But, I guess, that was so yesterday. Before, for example, the DNC had blogger lapdogs willing to sit and kiss ass for official passes.

What can I say? I miss 1968. You know, back when a protest meant a protest. And when the “alternative media” still meant the alternative media, not a bunch of YouTube and blogging whores who think that if they’re the first to report that Hillary Clinton said “good things” about Obama that they’ll win a chest scratch and – perhaps, depending on their behavior – another invite in 2012.

It’s going to be a long week if you think democracy is happening in Denver. It’s as staged as staged can possibly be. In the end, it will be nothing short of the most massive, unending documentation of nothing other than the coronation of Barack Obama that democracy has seen since – oh – the most massive, unending documentation of nothing other than the coronation of John Kerry. But America loves spectacles as much as it loves suckers. And, together, it makes a convention.

Personally, I’d rather read Plato and weep.  

(Cross posted at Broadsides.org)

Oh my, it’s nice to see Vermont’s liberal elite finally catch up to the obvious conclusions reached years ago at Broadsides: Anthony Pollina is a loser. Duh. I mean, how many elections does he have to lose or otherwise foul with his disastrous decision-making before the scarlet “L” is permanently attached to his political being? Well, this is his fourth and, let’s hope, his last.

Pollina, as news reading Vermonters know by now, is in the middle of yet another one of his bizarre political tantrums, whereby he proves that the only “p” that matters to him is the “p” in “Pollina,” not principles. This time Pollina is once again shit-canning his “Mr. Campaign Finance Reform” label to – say what? – obliterate any and all of Vermont’s campaign finance laws. In other words, if he’s going to lose, he’s going to make sure all of Vermont loses, too. Oh boy, that’ll show ’em!

This latest Pollina mess was created when he made the me, myself and I-based decision to turn his back on his Progressive Party and, instead, run as an “independent” for governor. But, much like he bungled the management of his Vermont Milk Company, Pollina botched this move, too, by failing to note that the fundraising rules were a whole lot different for so-called independents. Specifically, according to the Secretary of State’s interpretation of the rules, independents can raise $1,000 per contributor/per election and major party candidates get to raise $2,000.

Pollina stepped in the campaign finance doo-doo when he began his race for governor as a major party candidate, thus begging for the $2,000 checks, but then dissed that party for a run on his own. But wait. What about the thirty-some-odd folks who ponied up more than $1,000 to his campaign? Send the money back, says the Secretary of State. No way, says Pollina. And let the mess begin.

While Pollina certainly has a legitimate grief that the law as interpreted by the state is unfair to independents, he also should have made sure he knew the rules before playing the game. But that kind of sloppiness is par for the course for Pollina’s political career (quick, name something he’s actually succeeded at…time’s up).

But there are far bigger issues here than Pollina’s latest tantrum. By declaring that the Secretary of State’s interpretation of the rules are not accurate, Pollina is saying that there are no campaign finance rules due to the fact that – buckle your seatbelts, folks – the U.S. Supreme Court threw out Vermont’s campaign finance law and Governor Jim Douglas vetoed the Vermont legislature’s attempts to remedy them.

The result? Pollina thinks anarchy should rule, as in: There are no rules. But the Secretary of State’s office thinks that the previously enacted rules should be enforced, as in: $2,000 contribution limits for major party candidates and $1,000 limits for independents.

The supreme irony in Pollina’s current self-serving position is that he’s taking one, big almighty dump on his previously proclaimed principles by now declaring that there are no rules when it comes to raising political capital. Hmm, let’s think for a second: Whom might that help most? The rich? The powerful? The well connected? Yes. Yes. And yes. But, to Pollina, there’s nothing as easily dispensable as a principle in the path of his quixotic pursuits of (said with frustration and clenched teeth): Just. Winning. One. God. Damned. Race.

So, in other words, if Pollina fails to read the rules before making a decision, to hell with the rules! Worse, if his challenge to those rules means empowering those with all the power already, so be it. Because this is about the big “P”: Pollina, and only Pollina.

Shame on him.

And shame on the Attorney General’s office, too, for repeatedly making public comments that they would need to “receive a complaint” before looking into this matter. You’d think that an official declaration by the Secretary of State’s office would trigger an investigation. Hello? Do you folks ever talk?

But, worse, while speaking with the Attorney General’s office this morning, Assistant Attorney General, Mike McShane, admitted to me that due to the “increased attention” this matter was getting that they may be looking into it “eventually” anyway. In other words, unless the press and the blogs pay enough attention to an opinion issued by the Secretary of State’s office, the Attorney General’s office will ignore it? Give me a break.

So, in order to put an end to the nonsense between these two state agencies, my partner in crime (or, in this instance, my partner in crime prevention), Boots Wardinski, submitted the letter below to the Attorney General’s office. At the time the letter was faxed, I was informed that it – the letter – would be the official “trigger” to an investigation of this matter. Pathetic? Sure. But, oddly enough, necessary as well.

The letter:

August 20, 2008

Mike McShane

Assistant Attorney General

State of Vermont

109 State Street

Montpelier,  VT 05609-1001

Dear Mr. McShane,

Please consider this letter an official citizens’ complaint regarding the political fundraising of Anthony Pollina, a publicly declared “independent” candidate for governor of Vermont.

As you know, the Secretary of State’s office has requested that the Pollina campaign return all contributions of more than $1,000 in order to comply with what it considers to be the current law. To date, the Pollina campaign is refusing to return the money.  

As concerned citizens of the State of Vermont, we offer this citizens’ complaint regarding the fundraising actions of the Pollina campaign and its apparent disregard for the law as interpreted by the Secretary of State’s office.

We look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Michael Colby & Boots Wardinski

[Cross posted to Broadsides.org]

I’ve got a nose for suffering – well, in that white-guy American way of suffering, that is. Because it’s all relative. And as much as I’d like to bitch and moan about the goddamn rain that won’t stop, everything was put into perspective over the last day or two as I tended to writing clients and read Murat Kurnaz’s powerful book, “Five Years of My Life, An Innocent Man in Guantanamo.” Like I said, I’ve got a nose for suffering.

Kurnaz, for those who don’t know, was an idealistic German/Turkish young man of 18 years of age who picked a hell of a bad time to seek some international and spiritual enlightening. Kurnaz, you see, grew tired of the partying and mindless pursuits of his peers in October of 2001. Worse, from a strictly timing perspective, Kurnaz decided that a trip to Pakistan and a deep immersion into the lessons of the Koran were in order to jolt him out of the doldrums of his German youth.

In the end, Kurnaz saw more of the world than he wanted, learned more about himself than he ever dreamed of, came face-to-face with the true evils in human nature, and was nothing short of victimized by a U.S.-sanctioned “War on Terror.” Yeah, in a Keystone Cops-like dragnet of racist and paranoid vengeance, Kurnaz was swept up, snatched, and ferreted off to Guantanamo before anyone who bothered to punch, kick and otherwise abuse him took a mere moment of level-headedness to realize he was as innocent as innocent could be. He was seeking peace and enlightenment but he found nothing but an American-made hell.

Remember, these were the not-so-level-headed days of post-9/11 America, where President Bush and his ever so compliant Congress were shelving civil liberties and demanding “the heads” of anyone who looked or felt differently than “us,” where the CIA’s bounty cash was being thrown around to the tune of $5,000 per “terrorist” (read: anyone who merely looked the part), and where Bush’s “dead or alive” edict reached way down into the rank and file of the military he leads, resulting in a de facto suspension of any and all sense of justice or even compassion toward folks like Kurnaz who were only “guilty” of being the wrong color, with the wrong name, in the wrong place, and at the wrong time. Welcome, my friends, to the early days of the War on Terror.

To say that Kurnaz was merely tortured would be an insult to the pain and suffering he went through at the hands of our government. As a five and a half year inmate in the 6×8 foot cells in Guantanamo (and even on his way there), Kurnaz has more disturbing stories of torture than anything I have ever read. He was routinely beaten. He was hung from the ceiling for days. He was waterboarded. He was psychologically-tortured by interrogators who didn’t even speak his German language but spat at him, cursed him, and refused to even consider the truth of his statements that he was merely a young, innocent man. Indeed, logic was – and remains – the first casualty of this “war.”

Here, for example, is one of Kurnaz’s accounts of the torture he endured:

The escort team brought me to one of the tents. There they told me to sit on the ground with my legs stretched out. I didn’t understand and tried to kneel as always. But they said: Sit! Sit down! Then they pushed my legs to the ground. I was to stretch them out. Two soldiers held my feel tight. Others grabbed my hands and pushed on my shoulders so that I could no longer move.

“So, you’re not a terrorist?” one of the interrogators asked. “You’re not from Al Qaeda?”

I could tell from his tone of voice that they were trying a new approach.

“Today we’re going to find out,” said another interrogator.

Did they have a lie detector? I asked myself. The man was holding something in his hands. It looked like two irons that he was rubbing together. Or one of those machines used to revive people who have heart attacks. Before I realized what was happening, I felt the first jolt.

It was electricity. And electroshock.

They put the electrodes to the soles of my feet. There was no way to remain seated. It was as though my body was lifting itself off the ground of its own accord. I felt the electric current running through my entire body. There was a bang. It hurt a lot. I felt warmth, jolts, cramps. My muscles cramped up and quivered. That hurt, too.

“Did you change your mind?”

“What?”

I don’t know how long they held the electrodes to the soles of my feet. It could have been ten or twenty seconds, maybe longer. It felt like an eternity.

“So how is that?”

The man rubbed the electrodes together and again touched them to my feet. Again I felt the cramps, the tremors, the hot pain.

“Funny, huh?”

The electricity crackled like a series of caps being hit with a hammer. They were like bolts of lightening in my ear. If I could look inside my ear, I thought, there would be electricity there – you could see electricity. At the same time, I heard screams.

They were my screams. But it seemed as though they were coming from outside my body, as though I had nothing to do with them. My whole body was quivering.

“Did you change your mind?”

“No, no…”

“Okay, try this!”

I heard myself screaming.

“Do you remember now who you are?”

“No, yes, no…”

“Okay, how about that…”

I heard my heart. It was beating loudly and very strangely. Quickly and then slowly again.

“Do you now Osama?”

“You…Taliban…?”

“…Atta…?”

I could hardly hear the man any more. I thought I was either going to pass our or die. But he always removed the electrodes from my feet. That was the worst thing, knowing that the pain would come again, until you thought there was no way you could take it any more.

I think I passed out. That was probably when they stopped.

Ah, our tax dollars at work.

But the most uplifting aspect of Kurnaz’s story is his never-ending faith in himself and his innocence. He was literally in hell, but kept focused on his salvation and whatever bright light he could sense at the end of this torturous tunnel.

Even more moving is Kurnaz’s refusal to greet the evil he was forced to go face-to-face with everyday with a similar kind of evil. Here, for example, are the harshest words toward Americans that can be found in Kurnaz’s 255-page account of the unspeakable torture he received in our name:

Sleep would have been the only consolation in such a situation. I thought about the American movies I had seen in Bremen. Action flicks and war movies. I used to admire Americans. Now I was getting to know their true nature.

I say that without anger. It’s simply the truth, and I’m not talking about all Americans. But the ones I encountered are terrified of pain. They’re afraid of every little scratch, bacteria, and illness. They’re like little girls, I’d say. If you examine Americans closely, you realize this – no matter how big or powerful they are. But in the movies, they’re always the heroes.

Again, Kurnaz wrote these rather mild words of condemnation after more than 5 years of pure, unadulterated torture at the hands of soldiers representing us, the United States of America. And the only thing he was guilty of was being a young man in the pursuit of a spiritual and international mission of peace.

Eventually – easy for me to say – Kurnaz was released. But not after being lied to, having his lawyers turned away as a result of guards who reported that he “didn’t want to see them” when Kurnaz had no idea that they were even there, and more than five years of living in the closest thing to a metaphorical hell that any us could ever imagine – let alone survive.

Kurnaz’s book should be mandatory reading for any U.S. citizen who seeks to vote this November. We must understand what has been done and is continuing to be done in our nation’s name. And, most importantly, we must demand from those seeking ANY elected office – especially president – to come clean, condemn the atrocities, and promise nothing but an end to this ugly, draconian and – yes – evil chapter to our nation’s story.

In other words, read it. Weep. And then act. Let’s make it the new American way.

Peace.

(Cross posted at Broadsides.org)

It’s all the rage to talk about money and politics. But I think we’re focusing on the wrong end. Sure, we should keep track of the donors to political campaigns. But I think it’s just as important that we begin to ponder the wealth of those seeking our publicly-funded political offices.

Take Vermont’s campaign for governor, for example. Our sitting – and I do mean sitting – Governor, Jim Douglas, recently announced that he and his wife, a dental assistant, are worth more than $2 million and have no debt. The peculiar thing about this Republican’s amassing of wealth is that he’s spent his entire professional career as a “public servant,” working in various elected government jobs since he graduated from Middlebury College 30-some years ago. So you have to wonder how seriously we have to take Douglas when he spills forth with his “big, bad government” mantra. I guess what he really means is that government is “bad for thee, but not for me!” Two million dollars worth – and counting.

Douglas’ Democrat opponent, Gaye Symington, is also a millionaire many times over. She’s just trying to be coy by not including her husband’s wealth in the financial filings she recently handed over to the Vermont press. Her husband, Chuck Lacy, was one of the original honchos at Ben & Jerry’s back when the company’s stock was being handed out like candy and those at the top – like Lacy — walked away with more loot than they knew what to do with. So much loot, in fact, that folks like Lacy started their own charitable foundations (http://www.cdvca.org/about/funds/barred_rock.php)  to give gobs of it away. Nice work if you can get it.

Without her hubby’s millions, Symington declared a personal worth of close to $400,000. But you’ve got to be more than a hypocritical fool (or, for that matter, drinking way too much Dem Kool-Aid) to buy her argument against releasing their joint financial information.

“I’m running for office,” Symington declares, “not my family.”

Okay, Gaye, fan the flames of interest all you want but that kind of lameness isn’t going to make the issue – or the millions of dollars — go away. Besides, I’ll bet you won’t be distancing yourself from “the family” when the photo-ops, the door knocking, the advertisements, the advice, and the support come into play, huh? Of course not.

The simmering issue of Symington taking Vermonters for fools by refusing to release her joint financial picture should be dispensed with by two recent political examples: Hillary Clinton released joint financial statements in her run for president; and national Democrats made a huge issue of the McCains’ refusal to release joint financial statements. Checkmate, Gaye. Release them or prepare yourself for more questions.

Speaking of spousal wealth, the newly declared “Independent” in this campaign, Anthony Pollina, announced that he and his wife (emphasis on “wife”) are worth around $800,000. But if you look more closely at the filing you’ll see that there’s a pot of gold on his wife’s side that is just waiting to be handed over whenever it’s needed. Their joint income of around $90,000 last year included $30,000 in income derived from her family’s Maryland-based businesses. Hmm. Again, a nice job if you can get it. Or, in Anthony’s case, marry into it.

But the bigger issue here – for me, at least – is the wealth of these three media-appointed “leaders” in the campaign for governor. Compared to the average Vermont family, these folks are financial kings and queens. And the same is true when you take a gander at the financial pictures of our federally-elected threesome – Senators Patrick Leahy and Bernie Sanders and Congressman Peter Welch (all are millionaires).

When, exactly, will the comparatively extreme wealth of our elected officials and mainstream challengers become an issue? How long will we kid ourselves into thinking and believing that people with such wealth, and, as a result, a built-in disconnect with the economic pains that the rest of us are feeling, will do anything of substance to “change” the system? Hey, it’s worked for them.

None of the aforementioned politicians – or, in the case of Pollina, a wannabe politician – ever have to worry about that pit in their stomach when they go to the mailbox and are greeted by bills that they don’t have the money for. They don’t have to fret about health insurance or even trying to get an appointment to see a doctor (tried that lately?). They don’t sweat with the mental calculations that the rest of us sweat over as we shop for such extravagances as, say, food. They don’t stop filling their gas tank at half-full because that’s all they can afford. And they don’t worry about their retirement, unless, of course, you don’t count the worry of “which house?” or “which boat?”

But yet we continue to elect one wealthy person after another to help us deal with the issues that have made them wealthy and made the rest of us struggle. Nail, meet the hammer, and enjoy the pain.

Personally, I’ve had enough of the crocodile tears from the millionaire politicians. They can’t “feel” our pain. They’ve only been profiting from it.

Sure, let’s get money out of politics, as they say. And we can start by getting the moneyed-elite out of our political offices. Enough already.