Has it ever occured to anyone that maybe the hardcore Republican faithful want to lose this election? First, general discontent with the party is so rampant in the country that Obama almost seems a shoe-in. With that state of affairs, the right-wing core can sit back, relax, complain, and be indignant about a wishy washy nominee like McCain. Then, when he does lose they can say, “See, I told you he was the wrong candidate.” Could it also be that the adherents of the Grand Old Party are feeling so guilty about the wretched state of the country their bozo president has led us into that losing the election would be a form of saving face for them? After all, they’re too prideful to ever admit to the cascade of fuckups and moral bankruptcy inherent in the regressive policies that have resulted from the regime that they so enthusiastically backed. Thirdly, they can sit back and watch Obama struggle and drown in the mess that they have left behind [one of their favorite phrases] and thus say, “See, Obama can’t lead, is ineffective and has led this country into the shit, just as we predicted.” They are, in effect, handing Obama a turd and asking him to make lemonade. And they are ready to pounce on him for it. Then they can offer up another favorite Republican candidate to save us from the liberals. Genius.
The resulting squeeze on foodstocks and price rises that result in a time when so many are hungry has got to be a sin. (Not to mention the senselessness that producing corn in order to burn it wastes more energy than is ultimately produced). Surely, there must be a limit to the free market when it inflicts this much pain on so many. Those who really deserve the pain for letting this happen—the farmers who sell food to burn, the Archer Daniels Midland-type executives profiting from this insanity, and the politicians like Bush who allow it to continue—should all have big fat corncobs shoved up their asses.
Interrogator: “Admit that waterboarding is torture!”
Neocon: (moans, body squirms, head violently shakes in rebellious defiance.)
Interrogator: “Admit it! Waterboarding is torture! You can stop this now. Just admit it!”
(Hours pass and the neocon is exhausted, choking, almost dead from lack of oxygen. He finally makes a passive gesture of the head and fingers. He groans a barely audible “yes.” The cloak is removed.)
Neocon: “Yes, it is torture. I admit it. Please let me go.”
(The neocon is released. Later, he renounces his confession under duress.)
Neocon: “They were killing me. What the hell else was I gonna say? I was in pain. I had to do whatever I had to do to stop it.”
(On his way to work that day, the neocon–who so vocally supports the Iraq War–drives by an Army recruiting office. He declines to enlist.)
Another superb job from Seymour Hersh: The General’s Report exposes what Rummy knew, and when he knew it—or more precisely, what he chose not to know—about the Iraqi prisoner abuse/torture… And how one real patriot, General Antonio Taguba, became another casualty of Bush’s assault on our military, and on the Truth.
Read it, or be like Rummy and continue to be in denial…
Kentucky Gov. Ernie Fletcher has never looked better.
Not because he’s tanned, well-tailored and impressive on the stump, which he is. And certainly not because of the arrogance, hypocrisy and scandal that have marked his administration.
No, he’s looking better because Anne Northup is saying bad things about him.
That’s right. Anne Northup—“Anytime Annie”—that stale, has-been, lazy-jowled leftover from the Bushie-DeLay rubber-stamp, do-nothing fiasco 109th Congress. Yes, that maverick leader who voted 91 percent of the time with the Bush-DeLay agenda.
Pulling out that dusty leather discredited old Republican smear playbook that worked so well for the GOP from 1994 to 2004, Anytime Annie proves she’s still ready anytime to go negative.
Of course, vulnerable Ernie has given her the ammo, but on matters that really count—including a morally bankrupt and administratively inept right-wing political philosophy that she and Ernie share 100 percent—Anytime Annie will never really truly criticize Ernie Fletcher.
Still, she wants us to believe, as her slogan goes, that “she’s the only Republican who can win in November.”
I doubt that my Bluegrass brethren out in Hogshit, Ky., believe that one any more than I do. I know very well that lots of folks out there continue to stand behind their governor, for good or ill, just like they do their president.
Rationality ain’t got nuthin’ to do with it.
I also know that discredited Anytime Annie calling Patronage Ernie bad things looks about as credible as Mussolini calling Franco a bad guy.
But, Annie wasn’t corrupt, you say? She didn’t dole out patronage. Or did she? Check out this example of Anytime Annie’s integrity.
So, I repeat, the more bad things she says about Ernie, the better he looks. Call it the “Anytime Annie Effect,” if you will. Go negative and angry, and make your opponent look better. If I was conspiratorially inclined, I might think she was working for Ernie’s campaign.
Or hear that whiny lazy slur as her tongue stumbles around in that mannish maw.
Or contemplate once again what a boring, uninspiring mediocrity she is.
Anytime Annie finds herself prisoner in an Escher-like conundrum: She’s more boring when positive; more interesting when negative. Sort of like how Anna Nichol Smith became more interesting when she killed herself.
Lest this smack of ad hominem, consider this:
Annie wants us to forget that it was just seven short months ago that we ran her outta town on a rail—along with the rest of her Congressional “yes-man” lot–for failing to check and balance a power-mad and ever-remotely arrogant chief executive hell bent on pursuit at all costs of an obsessive, increasingly irrational war, to the neglect of every other festering problem of the nation.
But Anytime Annie is ready and rarin’ to go again because, so she thinks, we owe it to her.
That’s right. She’s ready anytime to be a politician of some sort or another for Kentucky. Anything, anytime—Annie, by rights, should be elected to something big in Kaintuck. For someone who rails against entitlements, she sure comes off as somebody entitled.
In TV ads that mirror the excitement of her half-asleep slurred speech, Anytime Annie says she’s gonna do something about health care and education and the like.
I guess the opposite of the way she did nothing about those things for 9 years in Congress.
Well, she did do something, voting yay on the $400 billion Medicare Bill that Bushie signed into law in 2003—an occasion celebrated with champagne corks popping in boardrooms across the country as the top 1 percent laughed at the rest of us 300 million suckers who were going to pay out the ass with our own taxes for a law written by—yes, the health-care CEOs themselves.
And what thanks did Anytime Annie get for voting the way she was told, anytime she was told to? The disrespect of half the state and Congress and President Bush, none of whom—even after 9 years—seemed capable of pronouncing her name right. You’d thought she was an heiress to the Northrup aviation empire, as many times as she was called that. It’s understandable in Bush’s case, of course; he can’t pronounce anything—plus his war brain dances with visions of military contractors such as Northrup.
Rather than list them here, I’ll let The GOP Auction House give you the record and loyalties of Anytime Annie as well as the disastrous legacy of the leadership of her and her fallen Congressional compadres.
Is that the kind of governance we have to look forward to, Anytime? More years of inertia and corporate welfare?
As a governor, Annie, you’ll have to do something called consensus building. There’ll be no Big Daddy DeLay to build consensus for you like before; none of that “vote like I say, or else” kind of consensus that the lockstep zombie Republican Congress-folk got used to. Nope, it ain’t that easy anymore, Anytime.
The one thing Congresswoman Annie had going for her, along with her fellow DeLay-ites, was doling out lots of taxpayer money on wasteful pork for their districts to help keep themselves in power.
In press release after press release, Anytime Annie, like her mentor Free $peech Mitch McConnell, boasted about how she was bringing home the bacon for homefolks, as if the bacon was hers (and his) to begin with.
Time and time again, Mitch and the Bitch forgot to mention the fact that me and the 3.5 million other Kentuckians funding the pork should have been the ones mentioned above the politicos in those press releases. If it’s my own goddamned money I’m getting back, then how is somebody giving me anything? They ain’t, that’s what.
Like Poke Salad Annie, Pork-Barrel Annie rustled up the dole-outs, including lotsa collards and hamhocks of the faith-based variety to curry favor with the Republican disinclined African-American wards.
She went black, and still she never went back—‘cause she got shitkicked out.
And you have to question the efficiency of any political campaign that would put me on Anytime Annie’s email list. They couldn’t have found a less sympathetic voter to spam. Is that the kind of efficiency we can expect from her as governor?
Like the first Anytime Annie—a morally loose gold-digging chorus girl in the classic 1933 film 42nd Street—our Anytime Annie pretends that she wants you, forcing a smile like a weary street whore. But her haggard eyes tell you the real story.
Like a political crack whore, she needs to get off the stuff and get a real job. Would somebody please give her one and get her out of our sight? I’m sure she can do something productive.
Yet, Anytime Annie still wants us to believe that she can fix all the things as governor that she ignored or worsened while in Washington and mend all that has gone wrong under her fellow Republican Ernie.
Do you really want to give her that chance?
[I posted this in early 2007 in the hopes that our derelict Congress would finally do its job of checking and balancing, but a year and a half after the great Democratic sweep they having proven so wimpy and impotent that they’ve managed the amazing feat of garnering themselves even lower approval ratings than Bush himself. I repost this article in memory of my former optimism. -EG]
“The time has passed for accepting this administration’s assurances at face value. The human cost of its repeated assurances is too great.”
(-Rep. Rahm Emanuel, D-Ill.)
Scratching their underarms, stretching and yawning, and batting their sleep-laden eyelids, our hibernating legislators are emerging from their caves to behold with a double-take the wrecked landscape—the result of six years of blissful somnolent denial, of handing the unchecked reins of government to a cultic, fanatical cabal then turning over to snore and get another 400 winks.
Yes, finally, maybe, the Congressional Iraq War debate is a sign that our absentee representatives have checked the alarm clock, seen that the time is way past for them to get up, brush their teeth and hair, dress the part and then hurry up and race to work to get busy and do their jobs, part of which is to check and challenge and, yes, even deny and disallow the extreme inclinations that obsess and self-delude the out-of-touch royals holed up in their fantasy palace of Versailles.
The sacrifice of those delusions is never borne by their well-heeled, secluded, blanket-wrapped originators; only by those easily persuaded or in denial themselves. Now that in our vengeful fury tens of thousands more have died and been injured than in the 9/11 attacks—very few of whom were actual terrorists and none of whom were the original 9/11 terrorists and most of whom have been our soldiers, innocent civilians and people who have since converted to insurgency as the result of our occupation—it is finally time to say enough is enough.
Saddam is dead. The weapons of mass destruction are elsewhere. They are wherever the old Soviet stockpiles are ending up, not in Iraq. Mission Accomplished. We’ve stirred the hornet’s nest; we whipped up this civil war. The glue that kept tribalism at bay, however heinous, is dissolved. We’re traipsing around lumpenly, fighting the wrong enemy in the wrong place, and leaving a mess—one that won’t be cleaned up or cleared up or organized any better or any more efficiently than the derelict and mishandled response to Hurricane Katrina. There are those who say we have to stay and finish what we started. At least they have one thing right, we started it. Neither Osama nor his minions were in Iraq, now they are. The Project for a New American Century couches its realpolitik in grand words, just like Bush. The subtext of the Project’s idealism becomes clear in action: to wage perpetual war. With living wage jobs shipping offshore, war keeps the remaining American business interests fat. It’s quite elegant in a way, send a taxpayer-funded war machine into a country, destroy it, then send more taxpayer dollars into the coffers of the privatized profiteers to “rebuild.” But when is the rebuilding done? When does the broken seive that is this gravytrain end? It’s kind circular in a way. My American dollar goes from my wallet into the wallets of Cheney’s pals, ensuring the widening income gap and prepping us all to accept the lower New World Order wagescales. Iraq is the place—appropriately enough, the front—where this money exchange takes place. Like a Mafia money laundering scheme, more money goes in than seems to come out. It has been well known for several years (if you’ve paid any attention to the rightly skeptical alternative media) that $9-plus billion of your taxes have disappeared, unaccounted for, into the nebulous morass that comes with shady bribes and payoffs, no-bid contracts and unaudited overcharges. Only now is some of this actually being addressed.
So congratulations Congress. You’ve finally taken some wobbling, timid steps up to the plate. So hit a good one and bring all the runners in, and bring our young men and women home.