My neighbor Lester was over in Burlington, Kentucky, this weekend, volunteering at Answers in Genesis’s creation museum and education center. I was eager to hear what progress they’re making. They believe that God created the universe in six days only 6,000 years ago, that pairs of dinosaurs were on Noah’s Ark, and that dinosaurs were probably around at the time of Jesus. According to a 1997 Gallup Poll, 47% of Americans believe in a literal reading of Genesis, so there’s a choir out there waiting to hear them preach.
“How’s the project coming along, Lester?” I asked.
“Just super!” he reported. “The 54-foot-long model of a sea bass that visitors will be able to walk through is all set up. And so is the 14-by-26-foot model of a human cell. And the seventy or so dinosaur models are all in place.”
“Help me out here, Lester,” I said. “What exactly do dinosaurs have to do with the Bible?”
“Everything,” he said. If God created all animals on the sixth day, then dinosaurs existed at the same time as every other creature. They were walking the earth the same time as all the Old Testament figures, probably up through the time of Jesus himself.”
“Gee,” I mused. “You’d think that if a 10,000 pound Tyrannosaurus rex were rambling around at the same time as King David, say, or Abraham, or Isaac, or Jeremiah, or any of those guys, somebody would have mentioned it.”
“The Bible isn’t exhaustive in the way it treats anything,” he said with exasperation. “There are obviously thousands of species—animals, trees, birds, insects—that didn’t happen to be included in the Biblical narratives.”
“Well, I can see how you could leave out a wood duck or a pintail, say, or maybe a chipmunk or a spittlebug, but some things are just hard to ignore. Don’t you think that a giant flesh-eating reptile twenty feet tall, with a four-foot skull, armed with daggerlike teeth half a foot long, would catch your attention? And maybe complicate your life a little? Or even a vegetarian like Diplodocus or Brachiosaurus? I mean, Diplodocus grew to be almost ninety feet long. Of course, it only weighed about twenty-five tons, which is light compared with Brachiosaurus’s fifty tons, but still, if one crossed your path, you’d think you might get excited enough to mention it.”
“They may have been so common that they weren’t worth mentioning,” he suggested.
“I can see how that could happen,” I agreed. “But sheep and goats and lambs and lions get mentioned frequently, and they were probably more common than dinosaurs. Although I wouldn’t think sheep and goats would stay all that common if there were many carnivorous dinosaurs around.”
“It may have been a matter of geography,” he suggested. “Dinosaurs may not have been in that particular region at that time.”
“I can see that,” I reflected. “It would be like polar bears. Or kangaroos. They weren’t in the Middle East, so they’re not mentioned in the Bible. So how did Noah gather all those species? Did he go to Australia for the dingoes and kangaroos and kiwis, to the Arctic for polar bears and seals and Arctic wolves, to North America for bison, to South America for anacondas, and to Asia for snow leopards? How long would you say it would take to gather a pair of every species that ever lived, haul them back home, and load them on a boat? Suppose my three sons and I set out to do that—and our job would be easier because a lot of species are extinct now. How long would that take? I mean, realistically, how many species could you travel with and feed at one time?”
Lester flushed. “ It probably went faster in those days,” he mumbled.
“That’s what I can’t figure. They did everything on foot. No trucks, no trains, no planes to speed up the gathering. Can you imagine being the son who gets the job of bringing in a pair of Allosaurus or Triceratops?”
“It was no doubt a difficult task,” he admitted.
“And how big was that ark?” I went on. “When you consider that some of these individuals weighed 100,000 pounds apiece, and then figure the food you’d have to lay in for them, it’d take a heck of a vessel to accommodate the lot. Plus they all ate different kinds of food, so you’d have to gather that from everywhere too.”
“The dimensions are given in cubits,” he said. “I’m not sure how long a cubit is.”
“Well, it varied,” I said, “depending on how long it was from somebody’s elbow to the tip of his middle finger, but eighteen inches is a good ballpark figure.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “However big it was, it was big enough.”
“Say, did you read in the Parkersburg paper about that Marietta College professor who found those dinosaur droppings at a dig in Utah?” I asked. “The first specimen was about ten feet long! The main mass was five feet long, and then there was another five feet of ‘dribble.’”
“What’s your point?” he asked.
“Nothing, really. I was just thinking how much work it was to take care of a few dairy cattle when we had a farm over in Gilmer County. Not just the feeding and milking, but mucking out the barn. Can you imagine cleaning up after a hundred thousand or so species on a boat?”
“You seem inclined to linger over details.”
“Somebody once said, ‘God is in the details,’ Lester,” I remarked. “By the way, Dr. Stone figured that the coprolite he found was shat about 150 million years ago.”
“Evidently he’s not a biblical scientist,” said Lester. “He appears to be unaware of the reliable, absolutely authoritative history that Genesis presents.”
“There does seem to be a bit of a gap between your version of dinosaurs and his, doesn’t there? You believe the oldest dinosaurs lived no more than 6,000 years ago, and he says his specimen came from a dinosaur 150 million years ago.”
“Ace,” he said, “if you can’t trust the Bible on biology and paleontology, how can you trust it on morality and salvation?”
Lester is not only a neighbor, but a friend and a thoroughly decent human being. His question came from the foundation of his faith, and I wanted to treat it carefully. For him, every word in the Bible is literal, historical, God-given truth, and thus cannot be wrong.
“Lester,” I began, “you read the Bible a lot more than I do, and you know that it contains passages that are self-contradictory and genealogies that vary from one place to another. If the Bible were literally, word-for-word true, those kinds of things couldn’t happen.”
He just looked at me, evidently concerned that my eternal soul was sliding down a greased pole to perdition.
“Think of all the ways people try to convey truths so profound that they are ultimately inexpressible,” I continued. “Through myth, through symbols, through visions. The imagination isn’t a lesser creature than the cold historical eye. You’re taking a work that combines a variety of literary forms—myth, song, chronicle, prayer, and vision literature—and assuming that it’s all historical narrative. That’s absurd! You can have your moral and religious truth while being open to whatever science learns about the universe!”
He turned a cold historical eye on me. “Ace,” he said, “I’ll pray for you. You read a myth for me.”
© Tony Russell, 2003
Thursday, January 16, 2003
Saturday, January 11, 2003
“What Would Jesus Do?”
The great religious revivals of the Anglo-American past have focused on the downtrodden and despised. Out of each revival came a new emphasis on prison reform, as a reaction against the brutality and inhumanity of the penal system of the time. If you were a Quaker, for example, believing that “there is that of God in everyone” and that everyone has access to the Inner Light, then you actually believed that this thief, this drunkard, this drug addict, was—no less than you—a child of God, worthy of respect and love. If you were a follower of John and Charles Wesley, a “Methodist,” you believed that we were all sinners, and that no human being was beyond redemption.
All of which leads me to marvel at the “religious revival” of the last twenty years, which has been a willing partner of the most hateful and vindictive political ideologues in America’s conservative boom. Fundamentalist churches are the core supporters of the right wing agenda, including its emphasis on expanding the death penalty to cover more and more offenses, imprisoning as many people as possible, imprisoning them for longer and longer terms, and eliminating programs designed to educate them or help them in any way to improve their lot. It doesn’t seem to bother these Christians at all that prisoners, in massive numbers and on a routine basis, are being treated worse than dogs.
“What would Jesus do?” they frequently intone. I have to assume it’s strictly a rhetorical question rather than a felt demand on their lives. Do they honestly believe Christ is a cheerleader for the gas chamber and lethal injections? For life sentences for drug possession? For stun guns? For the Bush administration’s treatment of the prisoners at Guantanamo Bay?
At Guantanamo the administration has thrown prisoners into a jail built from international shipping containers. Three sides of each cell are steel mesh. The cells are less than 7 foot by 8 foot, and more than half of each cell is taken up by a metal bed welded to the wall. Prisoners are kept in that space, in metal containers, in broiling tropical heat, for one hundred sixty seven and a half hours per week. Each week, a prisoner gets to leave that metal oven for two fifteen-minute periods. That’s his time to shower and exercise. Do you suppose that’s the kind of prison Jesus would have designed, given the chance?
January 15 will mark the first anniversary of their imprisonment, with no end in sight. They have never been charged with anything. They have never been allowed to see a lawyer. They have never been allowed contact with their families. Their imprisonment violates, among other things, the Geneva Convention, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, and the U.S. Constitution. That’s not the America I grew up in. It’s not the America of Patrick Henry or Thomas Jefferson or Frederick Douglass or Sojourner Truth or …. But I forget myself; we’re talking religion here, not our American heritage. Jesus didn’t sign the Geneva Convention or the Constitution, so let’s dismiss them as irrelevant here, and get back to the key question: What would Jesus do? Apparently their Jesus says, “Fry the sons-of-bitches,” or “Cage ‘em and throw away the key.”
© Tony Russell, 2003
All of which leads me to marvel at the “religious revival” of the last twenty years, which has been a willing partner of the most hateful and vindictive political ideologues in America’s conservative boom. Fundamentalist churches are the core supporters of the right wing agenda, including its emphasis on expanding the death penalty to cover more and more offenses, imprisoning as many people as possible, imprisoning them for longer and longer terms, and eliminating programs designed to educate them or help them in any way to improve their lot. It doesn’t seem to bother these Christians at all that prisoners, in massive numbers and on a routine basis, are being treated worse than dogs.
“What would Jesus do?” they frequently intone. I have to assume it’s strictly a rhetorical question rather than a felt demand on their lives. Do they honestly believe Christ is a cheerleader for the gas chamber and lethal injections? For life sentences for drug possession? For stun guns? For the Bush administration’s treatment of the prisoners at Guantanamo Bay?
At Guantanamo the administration has thrown prisoners into a jail built from international shipping containers. Three sides of each cell are steel mesh. The cells are less than 7 foot by 8 foot, and more than half of each cell is taken up by a metal bed welded to the wall. Prisoners are kept in that space, in metal containers, in broiling tropical heat, for one hundred sixty seven and a half hours per week. Each week, a prisoner gets to leave that metal oven for two fifteen-minute periods. That’s his time to shower and exercise. Do you suppose that’s the kind of prison Jesus would have designed, given the chance?
January 15 will mark the first anniversary of their imprisonment, with no end in sight. They have never been charged with anything. They have never been allowed to see a lawyer. They have never been allowed contact with their families. Their imprisonment violates, among other things, the Geneva Convention, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, and the U.S. Constitution. That’s not the America I grew up in. It’s not the America of Patrick Henry or Thomas Jefferson or Frederick Douglass or Sojourner Truth or …. But I forget myself; we’re talking religion here, not our American heritage. Jesus didn’t sign the Geneva Convention or the Constitution, so let’s dismiss them as irrelevant here, and get back to the key question: What would Jesus do? Apparently their Jesus says, “Fry the sons-of-bitches,” or “Cage ‘em and throw away the key.”
© Tony Russell, 2003
Wednesday, January 08, 2003
“Wet My Dipstick”
“Are you coming to the rally on Sunday?” asked my co-worker, Mort Walker.
“I didn’t know anything about a rally, Mort,” I said. “What’s it about?”
“It’s a pro-war rally,” he said. “We’re tired of the administration’s pussyfooting around. Let’s get in there, grab ‘em by the gonads, and squeeze ‘til the oil runs out.”
“I don’t know, Mort,” I said. “The inspectors keep looking, and they can’t find any evidence of weapons of mass destruction. It seems kind of hard to justify invading another country just because we want their oil.”
“What kind of wimp are you?” he scoffed. “Have you looked at the price on the pump in the last few weeks? It’s $1.55 per gallon and still climbing.”
“Mort,” I said hesitantly, “there are other things to consider. International law, for example. The immorality of an invasion. The deaths of thousands of people.”
“Oh sure,” he said. “Talk abstractions. You don’t have to pump gas into my SUV every evening. Then you’d know what real pain is.”
“Mort,” I said, “I share your pain. But it just seems cynical and wrong to pretend we’re trying to make the world a safer place when we’re willing to bribe, buy, bomb, or betray anything that keeps big oil companies from writing their own ticket.”
He looked at me angrily. “Ace,” he said, “I’m beginning to wonder about your loyalty.”
“What do you mean?” I said, taken aback.
“You know what I mean,” he said accusingly. “United we stand. The colors in this flag don’t run.”
He was starting to tick me off. “Will you stop talking like a bumper sticker,” I said. “According to the most recent polls, only 29% of the American people support a unilateral American invasion, while 63% favor a diplomatic solution. So if there’s anybody standing united, it’s the majority of the American people, and they’re united against the administration’s determination to start a war.”
“Bury your head in the sand,” he said. “Those people are a real threat to the U.S., and they need to be taken care of before it’s too late.”
“Mort,” I said, “answer me this. Why is it that North Korea gets the kid-gloves treatment, when they make no bones about their intentions to develop weapons of mass destruction, but 160,000 troops are on the way to bomb, invade, and militarily occupy Iraq, when there’s no evidence at all that they have such weapons?”
“Ace,” he said, “there’s not enough oil in Korea to wet my dipstick.”
© Tony Russell, 2003
“I didn’t know anything about a rally, Mort,” I said. “What’s it about?”
“It’s a pro-war rally,” he said. “We’re tired of the administration’s pussyfooting around. Let’s get in there, grab ‘em by the gonads, and squeeze ‘til the oil runs out.”
“I don’t know, Mort,” I said. “The inspectors keep looking, and they can’t find any evidence of weapons of mass destruction. It seems kind of hard to justify invading another country just because we want their oil.”
“What kind of wimp are you?” he scoffed. “Have you looked at the price on the pump in the last few weeks? It’s $1.55 per gallon and still climbing.”
“Mort,” I said hesitantly, “there are other things to consider. International law, for example. The immorality of an invasion. The deaths of thousands of people.”
“Oh sure,” he said. “Talk abstractions. You don’t have to pump gas into my SUV every evening. Then you’d know what real pain is.”
“Mort,” I said, “I share your pain. But it just seems cynical and wrong to pretend we’re trying to make the world a safer place when we’re willing to bribe, buy, bomb, or betray anything that keeps big oil companies from writing their own ticket.”
He looked at me angrily. “Ace,” he said, “I’m beginning to wonder about your loyalty.”
“What do you mean?” I said, taken aback.
“You know what I mean,” he said accusingly. “United we stand. The colors in this flag don’t run.”
He was starting to tick me off. “Will you stop talking like a bumper sticker,” I said. “According to the most recent polls, only 29% of the American people support a unilateral American invasion, while 63% favor a diplomatic solution. So if there’s anybody standing united, it’s the majority of the American people, and they’re united against the administration’s determination to start a war.”
“Bury your head in the sand,” he said. “Those people are a real threat to the U.S., and they need to be taken care of before it’s too late.”
“Mort,” I said, “answer me this. Why is it that North Korea gets the kid-gloves treatment, when they make no bones about their intentions to develop weapons of mass destruction, but 160,000 troops are on the way to bomb, invade, and militarily occupy Iraq, when there’s no evidence at all that they have such weapons?”
“Ace,” he said, “there’s not enough oil in Korea to wet my dipstick.”
© Tony Russell, 2003
Wednesday, January 01, 2003
“A Chinese Christmas”
A quick inventory of the presents under the tree is probably as good as any statistical analysis for telling us who’s the current leader in the global economy’s race to the bottom. This year it’s not even close. The clear winner: China! Come on down!
Our big-ticket item was the new Sylvania™ DVD player, a present for the whole family from Santa. It had “Made in China” stamped in bold letters on the carton. But the DVD player was just the start. My granddaughter’s teddy bear was also made in China. So too was her cute little Dirt Devil™ Junior Upright vacuum cleaner. And her “Alphabet Art Puzzle”™ with its scripted message from Melissa and Doug: “We care about your comments, please call us!” (To be scrupulously fair, the puzzle is marked “Made in Taiwan.”) And our new Rival™ toaster. And that pretty new dress for my daughter. And my new toothbrush. And the bag clips we used to close the snack mix.
So China was this year’s winner, hands down. According to a report just released, China’s exports were up a whopping 22 per cent for the first eleven months of 2002! The big loser seems to be Mexico. Two years ago, we were all humming “Feliz Navidad!” Many of the items under the tree then were made in Tijuana, Juarez, Mexicali, and Nogales. Literally thousands of U.S. manufacturers, over the past two decades, had closed down their U.S. plants and moved just across the border, where they could not only pay much lower wages and lower taxes, but they didn’t have to worry about unions, health and safety regulations, or environmental damage. Now, however, those same corporations are pulling up stakes in Mexico and moving to China. A starting machine operator in China makes less than $2 a day, while that Mexican operator made almost $8 a day. As a consequence, more than a quarter of a million Mexican factory workers have lost their jobs in the past two years. (Jobs originally lost, of course, by workers in the U.S. and Canada; it’s a slow-motion case of musical chairs.)
All of this has come about through the push for “free trade.” The worthless lot we call political leaders are owned by multinational corporations and investors. And the “New Democrats” are as bad as the Republicans. Bill Clinton and Al Gore were first-team cheerleaders for the globalization of trade.
“Free markets” is a pretty-sounding way of saying “capitalism with no holds barred.” The motives of the “free traders” are greed and power; their real agenda is tax cuts, union-busting, deregulation, and “tort reform” (since law suits are one of the few remaining means for holding them accountable). As long as they can keep us bamboozled with phony issues like gun control and military escapades like the invasions of Panama, Afghanistan, and Iraq, they can continue to play cowboy and ride tall in the saddle.
That “giant sucking sound” you hear? It’s not just my granddaughter’s vacuum cleaner.
© Tony Russell, 2003
Our big-ticket item was the new Sylvania™ DVD player, a present for the whole family from Santa. It had “Made in China” stamped in bold letters on the carton. But the DVD player was just the start. My granddaughter’s teddy bear was also made in China. So too was her cute little Dirt Devil™ Junior Upright vacuum cleaner. And her “Alphabet Art Puzzle”™ with its scripted message from Melissa and Doug: “We care about your comments, please call us!” (To be scrupulously fair, the puzzle is marked “Made in Taiwan.”) And our new Rival™ toaster. And that pretty new dress for my daughter. And my new toothbrush. And the bag clips we used to close the snack mix.
So China was this year’s winner, hands down. According to a report just released, China’s exports were up a whopping 22 per cent for the first eleven months of 2002! The big loser seems to be Mexico. Two years ago, we were all humming “Feliz Navidad!” Many of the items under the tree then were made in Tijuana, Juarez, Mexicali, and Nogales. Literally thousands of U.S. manufacturers, over the past two decades, had closed down their U.S. plants and moved just across the border, where they could not only pay much lower wages and lower taxes, but they didn’t have to worry about unions, health and safety regulations, or environmental damage. Now, however, those same corporations are pulling up stakes in Mexico and moving to China. A starting machine operator in China makes less than $2 a day, while that Mexican operator made almost $8 a day. As a consequence, more than a quarter of a million Mexican factory workers have lost their jobs in the past two years. (Jobs originally lost, of course, by workers in the U.S. and Canada; it’s a slow-motion case of musical chairs.)
All of this has come about through the push for “free trade.” The worthless lot we call political leaders are owned by multinational corporations and investors. And the “New Democrats” are as bad as the Republicans. Bill Clinton and Al Gore were first-team cheerleaders for the globalization of trade.
“Free markets” is a pretty-sounding way of saying “capitalism with no holds barred.” The motives of the “free traders” are greed and power; their real agenda is tax cuts, union-busting, deregulation, and “tort reform” (since law suits are one of the few remaining means for holding them accountable). As long as they can keep us bamboozled with phony issues like gun control and military escapades like the invasions of Panama, Afghanistan, and Iraq, they can continue to play cowboy and ride tall in the saddle.
That “giant sucking sound” you hear? It’s not just my granddaughter’s vacuum cleaner.
© Tony Russell, 2003
Tuesday, December 24, 2002
“Worming the Cat”
Election after election, Democrats take a thumping. The latest debacle may have been the most humiliating. And the talking heads offer the same analysis: Democrats need to abandon their far-out liberal views and move to the center—i.e., become more like Republicans. The Democratic Leadership Council was formed with just that intent—to jerk the party to the right, making it more business-friendly and acceptable to corporate fat cats.
So what has that shift to the right done for the party? Let’s see…. It has lost the Presidency. It has lost control of the Senate. It has lost the House of Representatives. In practical terms, it has lost the Supreme Court. Most importantly, however, it has lost its voters. We now have a turnout of only about one-third of eligible voters. Republican participation is up; Democratic turnout is way down. What do the pundits suggest? Move even farther to the right. They’re like the friends who tell you to worm your cat with arsenic. “He’s still not looking too good,” you say. “In fact, he looks worse than he did before.” “You just need to increase the dose,” they say.
Where are the Democrats who care about the bottom 75% of the population? Who will fight for more spending on education and health care? Who will demand a higher minimum wage? Who will oppose tax cuts that benefit the rich and shift the burden to the middle class and poor? Who will strengthen the regulation of Wall Street, and enforce the tougher regulations? Who will oppose unilateral military adventures? Who will campaign for an intelligent peace rather than a stupid war? Who will support Constitutional rights? Who will support human rights rather than dictators? Who not only take those positions, but are passionate about them? Who have a little courage to go with their convictions?
Julian Bond said that “when the shameless compete against the spineless, the shameless always win.” “Always” is an exaggeration. A shameless panderer like Joe Lieberman lost his bid for Vice President, and may have cost Gore the Presidency, but he still has his Senate seat, as well as ambitions to be the 2004 Democratic nominee. Dick Gephardt helped Bush pass the Iraqi resolution in the House, thereby undermining the attempt by Senator Byrd and a few others to delay or limit the war authority it contained. For having thus hamstrung his party, and having led House Democrats to inglorious defeat in the midterm election, Gephardt sees himself as another potential President. Courage is such a rare commodity in the Democratic party that a few of its members have hoped John McCain could be talked into switching parties and running against George Bush.
“How’s your cat?”
“He’s free of worms. Unfortunately, he died.”
© Tony Russell, 2002
So what has that shift to the right done for the party? Let’s see…. It has lost the Presidency. It has lost control of the Senate. It has lost the House of Representatives. In practical terms, it has lost the Supreme Court. Most importantly, however, it has lost its voters. We now have a turnout of only about one-third of eligible voters. Republican participation is up; Democratic turnout is way down. What do the pundits suggest? Move even farther to the right. They’re like the friends who tell you to worm your cat with arsenic. “He’s still not looking too good,” you say. “In fact, he looks worse than he did before.” “You just need to increase the dose,” they say.
Where are the Democrats who care about the bottom 75% of the population? Who will fight for more spending on education and health care? Who will demand a higher minimum wage? Who will oppose tax cuts that benefit the rich and shift the burden to the middle class and poor? Who will strengthen the regulation of Wall Street, and enforce the tougher regulations? Who will oppose unilateral military adventures? Who will campaign for an intelligent peace rather than a stupid war? Who will support Constitutional rights? Who will support human rights rather than dictators? Who not only take those positions, but are passionate about them? Who have a little courage to go with their convictions?
Julian Bond said that “when the shameless compete against the spineless, the shameless always win.” “Always” is an exaggeration. A shameless panderer like Joe Lieberman lost his bid for Vice President, and may have cost Gore the Presidency, but he still has his Senate seat, as well as ambitions to be the 2004 Democratic nominee. Dick Gephardt helped Bush pass the Iraqi resolution in the House, thereby undermining the attempt by Senator Byrd and a few others to delay or limit the war authority it contained. For having thus hamstrung his party, and having led House Democrats to inglorious defeat in the midterm election, Gephardt sees himself as another potential President. Courage is such a rare commodity in the Democratic party that a few of its members have hoped John McCain could be talked into switching parties and running against George Bush.
“How’s your cat?”
“He’s free of worms. Unfortunately, he died.”
© Tony Russell, 2002
Wednesday, December 18, 2002
“Shell Game”
“Hey, Ace!” called my buddy, Bob Spinner, as I was strolling around the Molasses Festival. “Come take a look at this guy. He’s great!”
I pushed my way through the crowd gathered in front of a small stage set up behind the Community Building. The stage was draped with red, white, and blue bunting, and on both sides of the stage were huge American flags, the flagpoles topped with vicious-looking eagles with their talons clutching missiles and bombs. In the center of the stage was a man wearing cowboy garb, standing behind a counter and making his pitch as he whipped three large shells around on the countertop.
“It’s easy,” he shouted. “Everybody’s a winner! Just keep your eye on the pea and tell me where it ended up! You there, sir,” he said, looking right at me, “you have a confident look to you. Come on up here and give it a try. Just plunk down 30% of your income for the next ten years! It’s no gamble at all; you just have to watch this little pea. Nothing to it!”
Bob had shoved his way up behind me, puffing slightly from the exertion. “This is goofy,” I told him. “I don’t want to get up in front of all these people and make a fool of myself. Besides, I might lose. And if I lost 30% of our income, Patty would pitch a fit.”
Bob scoffed. “The guy’s an idiot,” he said. “It’s almost a shame to go up there and take his money. You’ve got a quick eye, and he’s got a slow hand. Go for it!” He grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the stage. “He’ll do it,” he yelled.
I found myself standing in front of the counter, while people in the audience hooted and shouted encouragement. The cowboy smiled at me, but the skin around his eyes never wrinkled. I’d seen the same look on our housecat’s face as it sat immobile, its eyes on a chickadee.
He launched into his patter, starting to slowly shift the shells around. “Just keep your eye on the pea,” he reminded me. “We’re attacking Iraq because a bunch of Saudi Arabians headquartered in Afghanistan flew planes into buildings in the United States.”
“Huh?” I said, bewildered. “Can you go back and make that move again? I lost sight of the pea for a minute.”
“Sorry,” he smirked. “Gotta keep moving on. Maybe you’ll see it again in a minute.” He began to move the shells a little faster. “Saddam Hussein is a vicious dictator, cruel to his own people. He possesses weapons of mass destruction. He’s part of an axis of evil, and good is always at war with evil.”
“Oh come on, get real,” I protested. “There are lousy dictators all over the globe, too many of them allied with and bankrolled by the United States government. In fact, Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden were both our guys, and we’re the people who supplied Saddam with the materials for his chemical and biological weapons! That’s how we know what he had; we sold it to him!”
The cowboy slapped my hand aside. “Don’t touch those peas,” he warned me.
“But it’s not right to invade another country that isn’t at war with us, hasn’t attacked us, poses no real threat to us, and hasn’t even made a threatening gesture toward us,” I argued. “How in the world can you justify that? That’s the same kind of thing Hitler did with Poland and Czechoslovakia!”
“You just compared me with Hitler,” he said. “Big mistake. Unpatriotic. Overwrought. You’re discredited.” His hands moved faster.
“But I wasn’t talking about you as a person,” I objected. “I just said that invading other countries without justification was the same thing Hitler did. It’s true. How can you argue with that? You compared Saddam to Hitler, and your father compared Noriega to Hitler. In fact, for the past twenty years, every time an administration wants to attack somebody, they begin by demonizing the leader and comparing him with Hitler. It’s part of the public relations campaign to prepare the U.S. public for war!”
He ignored me, continuing to shuffle the shells.
“What about international law? What about the U.N. Charter? What about religious and ethical teaching? What about Congress and the U.S. Constitution? Invading Iraq violates everything we’re supposed to believe and stand for!”
“Glad you mentioned Congress,” he said. “Elections are coming up. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble getting a resolution from that spineless bunch. As for a U.N. resolution, we’ll push one through. But to tell the truth, who cares? They’re irrelevant. We’re still going to attack Iraq.” With that, he lifted one of the shells to reveal the pea; then his hands speeded up again.
“What about the weapons inspectors? What if they don’t find any weapons of mass destruction?”
“Those don’t really matter. We KNOW he has them. If he says he doesn’t, he’s lying and the weapons inspectors are incompetent.”
“If you know he’s lying, why don’t you give your evidence to the weapons inspectors?”
“We’d like to, but that would tip the Iraqis off to our intelligence sources. You’ll have to take our word for it.”
“Not meaning any disrespect,” I said, “but before we launch a war that will probably kill over 10,000 human beings, most of them poor Iraqi civilians, and further burden the U.S. economy with a war bill for over 190 billion dollars, when we say we don’t have enough money for health care and prescription drugs, I think we need something better than your word for it that something’s rotten in Iraq.”
Suddenly he stopped shuffling the shells. “Okay,” he said, “where’s the pea?”
He had taken me by surprise. I just stared at the shells. I didn’t have the slightest idea. Hesitating, I pointed to the one in the middle. Lifting it slowly to stretch out the suspense, he pointed to… nothing. “Sorry,” he said, grinning triumphantly. He lifted the shell on the right; there lay the pea. “You lose,” he said. “It’s war!”
The audience roared with laughter as I stumbled back down the steps. Bob met me at the bottom. “Boy, did he get you,” he chortled. “All the time the pea was whether it was right to go to war, and he got you to talking about one damned thing after another! Congressional resolutions. U.N. resolutions. Regime change. Inspection teams. He got you to where you didn’t know whether you were coming or going!”
“It’s just hard,” I said, “when he’s the one who’s always moving the shells.”
Bob grinned at me. “It’s a carnival,” he said. “What did you expect?”
© Tony Russell, 2002
I pushed my way through the crowd gathered in front of a small stage set up behind the Community Building. The stage was draped with red, white, and blue bunting, and on both sides of the stage were huge American flags, the flagpoles topped with vicious-looking eagles with their talons clutching missiles and bombs. In the center of the stage was a man wearing cowboy garb, standing behind a counter and making his pitch as he whipped three large shells around on the countertop.
“It’s easy,” he shouted. “Everybody’s a winner! Just keep your eye on the pea and tell me where it ended up! You there, sir,” he said, looking right at me, “you have a confident look to you. Come on up here and give it a try. Just plunk down 30% of your income for the next ten years! It’s no gamble at all; you just have to watch this little pea. Nothing to it!”
Bob had shoved his way up behind me, puffing slightly from the exertion. “This is goofy,” I told him. “I don’t want to get up in front of all these people and make a fool of myself. Besides, I might lose. And if I lost 30% of our income, Patty would pitch a fit.”
Bob scoffed. “The guy’s an idiot,” he said. “It’s almost a shame to go up there and take his money. You’ve got a quick eye, and he’s got a slow hand. Go for it!” He grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the stage. “He’ll do it,” he yelled.
I found myself standing in front of the counter, while people in the audience hooted and shouted encouragement. The cowboy smiled at me, but the skin around his eyes never wrinkled. I’d seen the same look on our housecat’s face as it sat immobile, its eyes on a chickadee.
He launched into his patter, starting to slowly shift the shells around. “Just keep your eye on the pea,” he reminded me. “We’re attacking Iraq because a bunch of Saudi Arabians headquartered in Afghanistan flew planes into buildings in the United States.”
“Huh?” I said, bewildered. “Can you go back and make that move again? I lost sight of the pea for a minute.”
“Sorry,” he smirked. “Gotta keep moving on. Maybe you’ll see it again in a minute.” He began to move the shells a little faster. “Saddam Hussein is a vicious dictator, cruel to his own people. He possesses weapons of mass destruction. He’s part of an axis of evil, and good is always at war with evil.”
“Oh come on, get real,” I protested. “There are lousy dictators all over the globe, too many of them allied with and bankrolled by the United States government. In fact, Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden were both our guys, and we’re the people who supplied Saddam with the materials for his chemical and biological weapons! That’s how we know what he had; we sold it to him!”
The cowboy slapped my hand aside. “Don’t touch those peas,” he warned me.
“But it’s not right to invade another country that isn’t at war with us, hasn’t attacked us, poses no real threat to us, and hasn’t even made a threatening gesture toward us,” I argued. “How in the world can you justify that? That’s the same kind of thing Hitler did with Poland and Czechoslovakia!”
“You just compared me with Hitler,” he said. “Big mistake. Unpatriotic. Overwrought. You’re discredited.” His hands moved faster.
“But I wasn’t talking about you as a person,” I objected. “I just said that invading other countries without justification was the same thing Hitler did. It’s true. How can you argue with that? You compared Saddam to Hitler, and your father compared Noriega to Hitler. In fact, for the past twenty years, every time an administration wants to attack somebody, they begin by demonizing the leader and comparing him with Hitler. It’s part of the public relations campaign to prepare the U.S. public for war!”
He ignored me, continuing to shuffle the shells.
“What about international law? What about the U.N. Charter? What about religious and ethical teaching? What about Congress and the U.S. Constitution? Invading Iraq violates everything we’re supposed to believe and stand for!”
“Glad you mentioned Congress,” he said. “Elections are coming up. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble getting a resolution from that spineless bunch. As for a U.N. resolution, we’ll push one through. But to tell the truth, who cares? They’re irrelevant. We’re still going to attack Iraq.” With that, he lifted one of the shells to reveal the pea; then his hands speeded up again.
“What about the weapons inspectors? What if they don’t find any weapons of mass destruction?”
“Those don’t really matter. We KNOW he has them. If he says he doesn’t, he’s lying and the weapons inspectors are incompetent.”
“If you know he’s lying, why don’t you give your evidence to the weapons inspectors?”
“We’d like to, but that would tip the Iraqis off to our intelligence sources. You’ll have to take our word for it.”
“Not meaning any disrespect,” I said, “but before we launch a war that will probably kill over 10,000 human beings, most of them poor Iraqi civilians, and further burden the U.S. economy with a war bill for over 190 billion dollars, when we say we don’t have enough money for health care and prescription drugs, I think we need something better than your word for it that something’s rotten in Iraq.”
Suddenly he stopped shuffling the shells. “Okay,” he said, “where’s the pea?”
He had taken me by surprise. I just stared at the shells. I didn’t have the slightest idea. Hesitating, I pointed to the one in the middle. Lifting it slowly to stretch out the suspense, he pointed to… nothing. “Sorry,” he said, grinning triumphantly. He lifted the shell on the right; there lay the pea. “You lose,” he said. “It’s war!”
The audience roared with laughter as I stumbled back down the steps. Bob met me at the bottom. “Boy, did he get you,” he chortled. “All the time the pea was whether it was right to go to war, and he got you to talking about one damned thing after another! Congressional resolutions. U.N. resolutions. Regime change. Inspection teams. He got you to where you didn’t know whether you were coming or going!”
“It’s just hard,” I said, “when he’s the one who’s always moving the shells.”
Bob grinned at me. “It’s a carnival,” he said. “What did you expect?”
© Tony Russell, 2002
Thursday, December 12, 2002
“Man Overboard!”
I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth so many times over the years that my wife thinks that’s how I polish my shoes. So I have a strange sympathy for Trent Lott, who, in a rare moment of unguarded honesty, spoke straight from his crooked little heart, and now finds himself a political pariah.
It’s too bad that reaction to Mr. Lott’s remarks honoring Strom Thurmond will focus on Mr. Lott himself, and ignore the whole class of Southern politicians who rode the racist bandwagon throughout their careers, jumping off only when it was clear that segregation was a losing position, and often jumping parties as well. When overt racism lost its respectability, the Republican Party built its southern strategy on covert racism, capitalizing on southern reaction against Lyndon Johnson’s Civil Rights Act. The party has succeeded, in the past three decades, in translating what was a solid Democratic bloc into a solid Republican bloc. The political abandonment of open segregation was a mass conversion unparalleled since Constantine’s vision at the Tiber. Like Constantine, they saw what it took to win.
The depth of their conversion has always been an open question. It’s hard not to think back to Jesse Helms’ campaign against Harvey Gant in North Carolina. Trailing in the final weeks, Helms didn’t hesitate to play his old race card. It worked; Helms won going away. Latent racism is an important asset, something this whole class of politicians counts on. The bubba vote knows in its heart that these men are still with them, even if they have to mouth moderate sentiments to maintain respectability. Mr. Lott simply forgot himself, speaking among friends.
My guess as to Lott’s future? I doubt he’ll become the new Majority Leader in January. The Bush team views government as a matter of manipulating public opinion about policy, and four-apologies-and-still-counting into the aftermath of Lott’s remarks, Lott looks less salvageable every day. Bush is trying to enlarge the Republican voter base by attracting suburban white women and Hispanic voters, and the last thing he needs is a reminder that the southern base of the party is still racist at its core. He and his supporters in the Senate will toss Lott overboard faster than an undersized bass when the game warden is walking down the dock.
© Tony Russell, 2002
It’s too bad that reaction to Mr. Lott’s remarks honoring Strom Thurmond will focus on Mr. Lott himself, and ignore the whole class of Southern politicians who rode the racist bandwagon throughout their careers, jumping off only when it was clear that segregation was a losing position, and often jumping parties as well. When overt racism lost its respectability, the Republican Party built its southern strategy on covert racism, capitalizing on southern reaction against Lyndon Johnson’s Civil Rights Act. The party has succeeded, in the past three decades, in translating what was a solid Democratic bloc into a solid Republican bloc. The political abandonment of open segregation was a mass conversion unparalleled since Constantine’s vision at the Tiber. Like Constantine, they saw what it took to win.
The depth of their conversion has always been an open question. It’s hard not to think back to Jesse Helms’ campaign against Harvey Gant in North Carolina. Trailing in the final weeks, Helms didn’t hesitate to play his old race card. It worked; Helms won going away. Latent racism is an important asset, something this whole class of politicians counts on. The bubba vote knows in its heart that these men are still with them, even if they have to mouth moderate sentiments to maintain respectability. Mr. Lott simply forgot himself, speaking among friends.
My guess as to Lott’s future? I doubt he’ll become the new Majority Leader in January. The Bush team views government as a matter of manipulating public opinion about policy, and four-apologies-and-still-counting into the aftermath of Lott’s remarks, Lott looks less salvageable every day. Bush is trying to enlarge the Republican voter base by attracting suburban white women and Hispanic voters, and the last thing he needs is a reminder that the southern base of the party is still racist at its core. He and his supporters in the Senate will toss Lott overboard faster than an undersized bass when the game warden is walking down the dock.
© Tony Russell, 2002
Thursday, September 26, 2002
“Why We’re Going to War with Iraq”
Sometimes I can’t think my way out of a revolving door. Yesterday was a prime example. I just haven’t been able to understand why we’re hell-bent on attacking Iraq, so I finally asked my buddy Joe Ragland, who’s a pretty good barbershop political scientist. “Joe,” I said, “I just don’t get it. Where’s the justification for invading Iraq?”
“What is it you don’t understand, good buddy?”
“The World Trade Center was destroyed by nineteen guys. Most of them were from Saudi Arabia, right?”
“Right.”
“So we blamed Osama bin Laden and attacked Afghanistan, right?”
“Right again.”
“But we don’t know what happened to bin Laden, whether he’s alive or dead, right?”
“Right.”
“So we have unfinished business with bin Laden. But Iraq didn’t have anything to do with the attack on the World Trade Center, right?”
“Right.”
“Iraq didn’t attack us, has no plans to attack us, and hasn’t threatened us, right?”
“Right.”
“So Bush wants to invade a country that didn’t attack us, has no plans to attack us, and hasn’t threatened us, right?”
“I suppose you could put it that way.”
“Joe,” I said, “does that seem right to you? I mean, isn’t it against the law or something? Hitting back when somebody hits you, sure, anybody would do that. And Saddam Hussein may be a rotten excuse for a human being. But we’ve sent money and guns and CIA agents to prop up the governments of some really despicable characters over the last fifty years. So what gives us the right to just decide we’re going to overthrow the government of another country?”
“Well, Ace,” he said, “I’ll give you this much. It’s true that a unilateral, unprovoked attack on Iraq would violate international law and the United Nations Charter, and be indefensible from a moral and religious standpoint.”
“But I don’t get it! If it’s illegal and immoral, and most of the rest of the civilized world is condemning it, and Congress is getting an overwhelming amount of mail opposing it, why does it sound like a done deal? Like it’s going to happen no matter what anybody says or does?”
“Ace,” he said, “grow up. Look at the facts of life. You can play psychologist and claim Bush wants to do it because his daddy didn’t finish the job. But the real story is that an administration bought, paid for, and staffed by giant energy corporations is slobbering all over itself to storm into Iraq and install a puppet government. Iraq has the second largest known oil reserves on the planet. The big oil companies would do anything to privatize that oil. Plus we’ll build permanent bases there that will allow us to intimidate the whole region. Britain will suck up to us and go along with anything we say because we’ll cut them in on the deal. We’ll buy, bribe, bully, or bulldoze anybody else who objects. You can do that when you’re the five hundred pound gorilla in the house. We’re the world’s only superpower, and if we want to take a walk on the wrong side of the street, who’s going to stop us?”
“But why would Congress and the public go along with something like that? I don’t think most Americans want our country to be the world’s biggest bully, or for our soldiers to die so big oil can get even richer.”
“Of course not,” he said. “So if you’re the administration, that’s not how you play it. You never mention oil. Perish the thought that something as lowdown as greed might be the motive for an invasion. You claim we’re at war, even though we’re not. You keep warning people of attacks that never take place. You keep ranting about “weapons of mass destruction,” as if we didn’t have any. You drape the flag over everything you do, and make it look unpatriotic to oppose the President. You get Congress to roll over and authorize a resolution that lets you do anything you want, and then tell them to fluff off. The Democrats, with the exception of Byrd, couldn’t muster a full backbone between them. It’s a done deal.”
“Joe,” I said, “I can’t believe it’s really that bad. You have to be cynical or sick to think things like that about the leaders of the free world.”
“Ace,” he said, “when they make you think that the only way to be a patriot is to be a sucker and like it, democracy is a memory.”
© Tony Russell, 2002
“What is it you don’t understand, good buddy?”
“The World Trade Center was destroyed by nineteen guys. Most of them were from Saudi Arabia, right?”
“Right.”
“So we blamed Osama bin Laden and attacked Afghanistan, right?”
“Right again.”
“But we don’t know what happened to bin Laden, whether he’s alive or dead, right?”
“Right.”
“So we have unfinished business with bin Laden. But Iraq didn’t have anything to do with the attack on the World Trade Center, right?”
“Right.”
“Iraq didn’t attack us, has no plans to attack us, and hasn’t threatened us, right?”
“Right.”
“So Bush wants to invade a country that didn’t attack us, has no plans to attack us, and hasn’t threatened us, right?”
“I suppose you could put it that way.”
“Joe,” I said, “does that seem right to you? I mean, isn’t it against the law or something? Hitting back when somebody hits you, sure, anybody would do that. And Saddam Hussein may be a rotten excuse for a human being. But we’ve sent money and guns and CIA agents to prop up the governments of some really despicable characters over the last fifty years. So what gives us the right to just decide we’re going to overthrow the government of another country?”
“Well, Ace,” he said, “I’ll give you this much. It’s true that a unilateral, unprovoked attack on Iraq would violate international law and the United Nations Charter, and be indefensible from a moral and religious standpoint.”
“But I don’t get it! If it’s illegal and immoral, and most of the rest of the civilized world is condemning it, and Congress is getting an overwhelming amount of mail opposing it, why does it sound like a done deal? Like it’s going to happen no matter what anybody says or does?”
“Ace,” he said, “grow up. Look at the facts of life. You can play psychologist and claim Bush wants to do it because his daddy didn’t finish the job. But the real story is that an administration bought, paid for, and staffed by giant energy corporations is slobbering all over itself to storm into Iraq and install a puppet government. Iraq has the second largest known oil reserves on the planet. The big oil companies would do anything to privatize that oil. Plus we’ll build permanent bases there that will allow us to intimidate the whole region. Britain will suck up to us and go along with anything we say because we’ll cut them in on the deal. We’ll buy, bribe, bully, or bulldoze anybody else who objects. You can do that when you’re the five hundred pound gorilla in the house. We’re the world’s only superpower, and if we want to take a walk on the wrong side of the street, who’s going to stop us?”
“But why would Congress and the public go along with something like that? I don’t think most Americans want our country to be the world’s biggest bully, or for our soldiers to die so big oil can get even richer.”
“Of course not,” he said. “So if you’re the administration, that’s not how you play it. You never mention oil. Perish the thought that something as lowdown as greed might be the motive for an invasion. You claim we’re at war, even though we’re not. You keep warning people of attacks that never take place. You keep ranting about “weapons of mass destruction,” as if we didn’t have any. You drape the flag over everything you do, and make it look unpatriotic to oppose the President. You get Congress to roll over and authorize a resolution that lets you do anything you want, and then tell them to fluff off. The Democrats, with the exception of Byrd, couldn’t muster a full backbone between them. It’s a done deal.”
“Joe,” I said, “I can’t believe it’s really that bad. You have to be cynical or sick to think things like that about the leaders of the free world.”
“Ace,” he said, “when they make you think that the only way to be a patriot is to be a sucker and like it, democracy is a memory.”
© Tony Russell, 2002
Monday, August 19, 2002
“Greed and Lead”
It had been a month or so since I’d been in Darrell’s health food store, and I’d been itching to see how his business was doing.
“Howdy, Darrell,” I said. “Got any sesame tahini hidden around here?”
“I’m fresh out,” he declared. “Had a big run on it. But I should be getting some more in on the truck tomorrow.”
“I guess I can wait. So how’s business?” I asked. “Still following the Enron model? All those ‘round trip’ sales to Wendell? Stock options to your auditing firm?”
“Those pikers!” he scoffed. “All they did was get filthy rich. I’ve got my sights set higher than that.”
That took me by surprise. “Just how high do you have in mind, Darrell?”
“The Big Cabin in Washington,” he announced proudly.
“The White House!” I said incredulously. “How in the world do you think you can pull that off?”
“The same way I’ve built this business,” he said. “Study the techniques of the masters, and then put the pedal to the metal.”
“So you’ve been studying …?”
“George W. Bush’s rise in the world.”
“I see. So you’re combining corporate business dealings and politics.”
“You’ve got it. ‘Greed and lead’.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I’m negotiating with a giant food distribution firm to buy me out at three times what this store is worth; they’re also giving me a seat on their Board of Directors and their auditing committee.”
“No offense, Darrell, but why would they want to buy a piddlin’ little outfit like this?”
“Because of my name and my connections, of course!”
“I know folks around here think a lot of your family, Darrell, but once you get beyond Leatherbark and Broomstick, I’m not sure a whole lot of people know who they are.”
“You’d be surprised. Daddy was president of the Back Fork Coonhunters Club for years, and when your daddy is president, it tends to open doors for you.”
“Say that’s true, for argument’s sake. What happens next?”
“Then I get a bargain-basement ‘loan’ from the company that I’ll never repay.
I use that to buy company stock. I sign an agreement that I won’t sell the stock for at least six months, but two months later, knowing that the stock is going to take a nosedive, I sell it at a huge profit, and use that money to buy into the Charleston Alley Cats. Then I get my buddies to maneuver the city into using $150,000,000 of taxpayers’ money to build me a new stadium. Then we sell the Alley Cats for three times what we paid for them to a guy I coincidentally just steered $9,000,000,000 of public assets to. My partners, who are all hardheaded businessmen, insist that, even though my share of the sale should only be $2.3 million, I just have to take $14.9 million. I’ll protest, but what can I do? So I start with nothing, really, and end up a multi-millionaire. Is this a great country or what?”
“That’s really inspiring, Darrell. It just goes to show what someone can do if they’re willing to work hard and play by the rules.”
© Tony Russell, 2002
“Howdy, Darrell,” I said. “Got any sesame tahini hidden around here?”
“I’m fresh out,” he declared. “Had a big run on it. But I should be getting some more in on the truck tomorrow.”
“I guess I can wait. So how’s business?” I asked. “Still following the Enron model? All those ‘round trip’ sales to Wendell? Stock options to your auditing firm?”
“Those pikers!” he scoffed. “All they did was get filthy rich. I’ve got my sights set higher than that.”
That took me by surprise. “Just how high do you have in mind, Darrell?”
“The Big Cabin in Washington,” he announced proudly.
“The White House!” I said incredulously. “How in the world do you think you can pull that off?”
“The same way I’ve built this business,” he said. “Study the techniques of the masters, and then put the pedal to the metal.”
“So you’ve been studying …?”
“George W. Bush’s rise in the world.”
“I see. So you’re combining corporate business dealings and politics.”
“You’ve got it. ‘Greed and lead’.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I’m negotiating with a giant food distribution firm to buy me out at three times what this store is worth; they’re also giving me a seat on their Board of Directors and their auditing committee.”
“No offense, Darrell, but why would they want to buy a piddlin’ little outfit like this?”
“Because of my name and my connections, of course!”
“I know folks around here think a lot of your family, Darrell, but once you get beyond Leatherbark and Broomstick, I’m not sure a whole lot of people know who they are.”
“You’d be surprised. Daddy was president of the Back Fork Coonhunters Club for years, and when your daddy is president, it tends to open doors for you.”
“Say that’s true, for argument’s sake. What happens next?”
“Then I get a bargain-basement ‘loan’ from the company that I’ll never repay.
I use that to buy company stock. I sign an agreement that I won’t sell the stock for at least six months, but two months later, knowing that the stock is going to take a nosedive, I sell it at a huge profit, and use that money to buy into the Charleston Alley Cats. Then I get my buddies to maneuver the city into using $150,000,000 of taxpayers’ money to build me a new stadium. Then we sell the Alley Cats for three times what we paid for them to a guy I coincidentally just steered $9,000,000,000 of public assets to. My partners, who are all hardheaded businessmen, insist that, even though my share of the sale should only be $2.3 million, I just have to take $14.9 million. I’ll protest, but what can I do? So I start with nothing, really, and end up a multi-millionaire. Is this a great country or what?”
“That’s really inspiring, Darrell. It just goes to show what someone can do if they’re willing to work hard and play by the rules.”
© Tony Russell, 2002
Saturday, August 17, 2002
“Stormin’ German”
German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder said today that war with the United States is “inevitable.” “We have undeniable proof that American ruler George Bush possesses weapons of mass destruction, including nuclear and biological weapons, as well as the means to deliver them,” he declared. Schroeder pointed to the belligerent nature of the Bush regime, calling it “a rogue state which poses an immediate threat to its neighbors and the region,” and repeatedly called for “a regime change.”
Germany has long suspected the U.S. of manufacturing weapons of mass destruction in facilities carefully masked from public and international view. Schroeder demanded that the U.S. allow teams of “weapons inspectors” unlimited access at once to sites anywhere in the country where weapons of mass destruction might be manufactured, stored, or concealed. American ruler George Bush denounced this as an intolerable infringement of U.S. sovereignty.
Schroeder went on to accuse the U.S. of long supporting terrorism on a global scale, citing its invasions of Panama, the Dominican Republic, Grenada, and numerous other “incursions,” as well as attempts to overthrow democratically elected governments throughout the world, most notably in Chile and Nicaragua, and most recently in Venezuela. A notorious arm of the U.S. secret police, known as the CIA, has conducted clandestine operations involving disinformation, torture, and political assassination on a continent-wide scale. Schroeder also cited Bush’s contempt for and mistreatment of his own people, including Native American minorities concentrated on so-called “reservations” in the western part of the country, and immigrant groups settled in many large cities.
As evidence of the regime’s “rogue status,” he pointed to America’s attempt to scuttle an anti-torture protocol in the United Nations Economic and Social Council because of Bush administration interest in torturing captives it suspects of terrorism. The Bush administration is also attempting to derail an international treaty on the rights of women, and has “unsigned” the treaty creating the International Criminal Court, announcing it has no intention of ever honoring the treaty. Schroeder noted that nearly every other government on the planet has denounced the American action, including not only America’s former allies in Europe, but Canada, Mexico, and Costa Rica, speaking on behalf of most of Latin America.
German Foreign Minister Joschka Fischer, in another widely reported speech, declared that “Doing nothing is not an option.” “It’s not a matter of ‘if,’ there will be a war with the U.S.,” he said, “but ‘when.’”
In an attempt to demonstrate that an overthrow of Bush would be welcomed by his own citizens, Germany recently hosted a gathering of representatives from American opposition groups. The meeting was rebuffed by a number of opposition leaders, but included Joseph Lieberman from the Democratic Party, Ralph Nader from the Green Party, Ross Perot from the Reform Party, and other figures such as Jesse Ventura and the Rev. Al Sharpton. Infighting broke out among the group, and it is unclear if any of them commands enough of a following within the U.S. to be installed as leader of the interim government should Germany succeed in deposing Bush.
There is virtually no international support for the German attempt to manufacture a war with the U.S., and Germany would have to both man and fund an invasion of American territory entirely on its own. Even members of the Chancellor’s own Social Democratic Party (SPD) have voiced hesitation over Schroeder’s seeming determination to have a war. They point out that launching an attack against a country that has not committed any aggressive act toward Germany puts Germany in the untenable position of an international bully. They question what the ultimate cost will be for a sustained military offensive and military presence (i.e., occupation) in the U.S., at a time when the German budget is already running heavily in the red. They also question how the Chancellor can drag the country into war when the German constitution details that right to the Bundestag.
© Tony Russell, 2002
Germany has long suspected the U.S. of manufacturing weapons of mass destruction in facilities carefully masked from public and international view. Schroeder demanded that the U.S. allow teams of “weapons inspectors” unlimited access at once to sites anywhere in the country where weapons of mass destruction might be manufactured, stored, or concealed. American ruler George Bush denounced this as an intolerable infringement of U.S. sovereignty.
Schroeder went on to accuse the U.S. of long supporting terrorism on a global scale, citing its invasions of Panama, the Dominican Republic, Grenada, and numerous other “incursions,” as well as attempts to overthrow democratically elected governments throughout the world, most notably in Chile and Nicaragua, and most recently in Venezuela. A notorious arm of the U.S. secret police, known as the CIA, has conducted clandestine operations involving disinformation, torture, and political assassination on a continent-wide scale. Schroeder also cited Bush’s contempt for and mistreatment of his own people, including Native American minorities concentrated on so-called “reservations” in the western part of the country, and immigrant groups settled in many large cities.
As evidence of the regime’s “rogue status,” he pointed to America’s attempt to scuttle an anti-torture protocol in the United Nations Economic and Social Council because of Bush administration interest in torturing captives it suspects of terrorism. The Bush administration is also attempting to derail an international treaty on the rights of women, and has “unsigned” the treaty creating the International Criminal Court, announcing it has no intention of ever honoring the treaty. Schroeder noted that nearly every other government on the planet has denounced the American action, including not only America’s former allies in Europe, but Canada, Mexico, and Costa Rica, speaking on behalf of most of Latin America.
German Foreign Minister Joschka Fischer, in another widely reported speech, declared that “Doing nothing is not an option.” “It’s not a matter of ‘if,’ there will be a war with the U.S.,” he said, “but ‘when.’”
In an attempt to demonstrate that an overthrow of Bush would be welcomed by his own citizens, Germany recently hosted a gathering of representatives from American opposition groups. The meeting was rebuffed by a number of opposition leaders, but included Joseph Lieberman from the Democratic Party, Ralph Nader from the Green Party, Ross Perot from the Reform Party, and other figures such as Jesse Ventura and the Rev. Al Sharpton. Infighting broke out among the group, and it is unclear if any of them commands enough of a following within the U.S. to be installed as leader of the interim government should Germany succeed in deposing Bush.
There is virtually no international support for the German attempt to manufacture a war with the U.S., and Germany would have to both man and fund an invasion of American territory entirely on its own. Even members of the Chancellor’s own Social Democratic Party (SPD) have voiced hesitation over Schroeder’s seeming determination to have a war. They point out that launching an attack against a country that has not committed any aggressive act toward Germany puts Germany in the untenable position of an international bully. They question what the ultimate cost will be for a sustained military offensive and military presence (i.e., occupation) in the U.S., at a time when the German budget is already running heavily in the red. They also question how the Chancellor can drag the country into war when the German constitution details that right to the Bundestag.
© Tony Russell, 2002
Sunday, July 21, 2002
“Me Overweight?”
My annual physical was yesterday. Doc Ramsey just looked at me and shook his head. “Scoop,” he said, “you’re carrying at least double the weight recommended for your height and frame. You should be at 160, and you’re packing almost 350 pounds around. It’s hard on you, and it’s hard on anybody you might run into, too.”
“Doc,” I said, “what’s the problem? I’ve been running the roads with 350, sometimes even 400 pounds, depending on what kind of bedtime snacks I’ve been munching lately. I need the extra weight. My body’s adapted to it; it’s a comfortable weight for me.”
“Don’t try to shit a shitter, Scoop,” he said. “You’ve got cholesterol and triglyceride levels higher than Tiny Tim’s falsetto. Has anybody tried putting you on a diet before?”
I laughed. “Doc, dozens of doctors have given me handouts with diets on them, but I just wadded them up and threw them in the trash. Nobody ever checked back to see how I was doing on their diet; I just figured they weren’t serious about it.”
“Well I’m serious about it,” he said. “Your wife has called at least a dozen times to tell me I need to get on you to cut your weight. I’m tired of picking up the phone and having Patty scream in my ear.”
“You think you’re tired of listening to her,” I said. “Listen, Doc, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we have a weight-control team evaluate my case and make a recommendation to you?”
“Where are you coming from, Scoop? What good would that do?”
“Just hear me out, Doc,” I said. “It’ll solve everything. I’ve got some buddies at the health care center. You name them to the weight-control team. They take six months to review my medical records; then they recommend a compromise. No more 400 pounds for me; it’s 350 tops. I weigh in once a month at your office. If I go over 350, you take me off beer and potato chips until I’m back under the wire. I’m happy. Patty can’t call and complain, because it’s all official, so you’re happy. It’s a win-win situation.”
He just looked at me. “Are you completely bonkers?” he said. “No honest medical professional could go along with a scheme like that! Do you know what your life expectancy is at 350 pounds?”
“It may be short, but it sure is sweet,” I said. “In fact, I’ve got friends from Kentucky waiting to see if I can pull this off. They can’t wait to get in on the scam!”
© Tony Russell, 2002
“Doc,” I said, “what’s the problem? I’ve been running the roads with 350, sometimes even 400 pounds, depending on what kind of bedtime snacks I’ve been munching lately. I need the extra weight. My body’s adapted to it; it’s a comfortable weight for me.”
“Don’t try to shit a shitter, Scoop,” he said. “You’ve got cholesterol and triglyceride levels higher than Tiny Tim’s falsetto. Has anybody tried putting you on a diet before?”
I laughed. “Doc, dozens of doctors have given me handouts with diets on them, but I just wadded them up and threw them in the trash. Nobody ever checked back to see how I was doing on their diet; I just figured they weren’t serious about it.”
“Well I’m serious about it,” he said. “Your wife has called at least a dozen times to tell me I need to get on you to cut your weight. I’m tired of picking up the phone and having Patty scream in my ear.”
“You think you’re tired of listening to her,” I said. “Listen, Doc, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we have a weight-control team evaluate my case and make a recommendation to you?”
“Where are you coming from, Scoop? What good would that do?”
“Just hear me out, Doc,” I said. “It’ll solve everything. I’ve got some buddies at the health care center. You name them to the weight-control team. They take six months to review my medical records; then they recommend a compromise. No more 400 pounds for me; it’s 350 tops. I weigh in once a month at your office. If I go over 350, you take me off beer and potato chips until I’m back under the wire. I’m happy. Patty can’t call and complain, because it’s all official, so you’re happy. It’s a win-win situation.”
He just looked at me. “Are you completely bonkers?” he said. “No honest medical professional could go along with a scheme like that! Do you know what your life expectancy is at 350 pounds?”
“It may be short, but it sure is sweet,” I said. “In fact, I’ve got friends from Kentucky waiting to see if I can pull this off. They can’t wait to get in on the scam!”
© Tony Russell, 2002
Monday, July 15, 2002
“No Mistake”
An Army spokesman today angrily denied claims by Mountain State residents that as many as 48 innocent civilians were killed, and 117 injured, in a July incident. “Our aircraft have repeatedly come under fire from anti-aircraft weapons in and around Ripley,” said Maj. Gary A. Pologist. “This was a precise military action against a carefully-selected military target.”
Residents of Ripley claim that they were celebrating the country’s birthday, and that fireworks, both formal displays and random informal displays, were the only rockets being fired from the ground. The town was crowded for an Independence Day visit from President Bush, and the attack by a helicopter gunship sent thousands scurrying for cover. The President himself was not injured, and is reported to have thought that the explosions were part of the elaborate welcome celebration local dignitaries had planned.
Maj. Pologist said that the Army had sent a team of investigators to the site of the alleged incident, and they could find no credible evidence that innocent victims had perished in the attack. “We sent in a team of highly-trained forensic experts for three days,” he said, “and they found nothing that would substantiate these rumors.” However, an Associated Press reporter wandering around town yesterday says that a dozen people he met on the street conducted him to a local cemetery and showed him numerous mounds of freshly-disturbed dirt which, in his words, “certainly had the appearance of newly-dug graves.”
Gov. Wise has demanded that Army officials clear any future strikes with his office, a demand rejected by the Army. “Such a policy would severely restrict our ability to respond to terrorism with the swiftness and flexibility that anti-terrorism action requires,” said the spokesman.
© Tony Russell, 2002
Residents of Ripley claim that they were celebrating the country’s birthday, and that fireworks, both formal displays and random informal displays, were the only rockets being fired from the ground. The town was crowded for an Independence Day visit from President Bush, and the attack by a helicopter gunship sent thousands scurrying for cover. The President himself was not injured, and is reported to have thought that the explosions were part of the elaborate welcome celebration local dignitaries had planned.
Maj. Pologist said that the Army had sent a team of investigators to the site of the alleged incident, and they could find no credible evidence that innocent victims had perished in the attack. “We sent in a team of highly-trained forensic experts for three days,” he said, “and they found nothing that would substantiate these rumors.” However, an Associated Press reporter wandering around town yesterday says that a dozen people he met on the street conducted him to a local cemetery and showed him numerous mounds of freshly-disturbed dirt which, in his words, “certainly had the appearance of newly-dug graves.”
Gov. Wise has demanded that Army officials clear any future strikes with his office, a demand rejected by the Army. “Such a policy would severely restrict our ability to respond to terrorism with the swiftness and flexibility that anti-terrorism action requires,” said the spokesman.
© Tony Russell, 2002
Wednesday, June 26, 2002
“Feeling More Secure”
I was having lunch with my friend Weldon at a local diner yesterday. We didn’t mean to be eavesdropping, but we couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between the two women in the booth behind us. Like everyone else nowadays, all they could talk about was security—how insecure they felt, and how happy they were that the President was doing all he could to make them safer.
“The whole 9-11 thing was so unsettling,” lamented one. “I had Dave go right out and put a new bulb in our yard light.”
“I know what you mean,” said the other. “We had intended to go to the Bridge Day festivities this year, but Jim said no way. He usually jumps off with his bungee cords at least three times, but he said he just didn’t feel safe doing it this year.”
“I’ll tell you,” confided the first, “I’ve been sleeping a whole lot better since the President and the Attorney General began rounding up these terrorists.”
“Oh definitely,” said her friend. “It’s such a relief just to have them in jail. And it doesn’t look as if they’re going to get out any time soon, either.”
“It doesn’t, does it?” agreed the first. “I’m so impressed with the manly way they
cut through all that red tape. No evidence, no charges, no judge, no hearing, no sentence—just threw them in jail.”
“Well, that’s the American way, isn’t it?” said her friend. “Practical. Just do
what needs to be done, and let other people quibble over their little procedural hang-ups.”
I had been watching Weldon get redder and redder. At that point, he blew. He turned around and jumped right in. “Ladies,” he said, “those ‘little procedural hang-ups’ you’re blowing off happen to be the Bill of Rights. And if the administration gets away with shitcanning them, we’re all in trouble.”
Loretta trotted over at that point. “Weldon,” she said, “if you’re going to get loud and vulgar, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“It’s okay, Loretta,” I intervened. “He’ll calm down. Won’t you Weldon?”
But before he could answer, the first lady jumped back in. “Listen, Mr. Butt-insky,” she said heatedly, “we’re already in trouble, in case you didn’t know it. This country is at war, and the commander-in-chief can do whatever he needs to do in wartime.”
That really lit Weldon’s fuse. “Lady,” he said, “I’d like to draw a few things to your attention. One, Congress happens not to have declared war. Two, the Constitution doesn’t authorize the President to become a dictator even if war is declared.” As he ticked off his points, his voice kept getting louder and louder. I looked over at Loretta, who was scribbling furiously on her check pad. “Three, these power-grabs by politicians are a hell of a lot more dangerous than anything a terrorist could do to this country. The freedoms of three hundred million people are being stripped away! They’re substituting presidential decrees for the rule of law!”
Loretta threw our check on the table. “That’s it,” she said. “You’ve done it again. Now out with you. And don’t come back until you can sit and eat a peaceful meal, for a change.”
Weldon threw a five on the table and grabbed his Red Devils ball cap. He knows that when Loretta makes up her mind, there’s no appeal.
© Tony Russell, 2002
“The whole 9-11 thing was so unsettling,” lamented one. “I had Dave go right out and put a new bulb in our yard light.”
“I know what you mean,” said the other. “We had intended to go to the Bridge Day festivities this year, but Jim said no way. He usually jumps off with his bungee cords at least three times, but he said he just didn’t feel safe doing it this year.”
“I’ll tell you,” confided the first, “I’ve been sleeping a whole lot better since the President and the Attorney General began rounding up these terrorists.”
“Oh definitely,” said her friend. “It’s such a relief just to have them in jail. And it doesn’t look as if they’re going to get out any time soon, either.”
“It doesn’t, does it?” agreed the first. “I’m so impressed with the manly way they
cut through all that red tape. No evidence, no charges, no judge, no hearing, no sentence—just threw them in jail.”
“Well, that’s the American way, isn’t it?” said her friend. “Practical. Just do
what needs to be done, and let other people quibble over their little procedural hang-ups.”
I had been watching Weldon get redder and redder. At that point, he blew. He turned around and jumped right in. “Ladies,” he said, “those ‘little procedural hang-ups’ you’re blowing off happen to be the Bill of Rights. And if the administration gets away with shitcanning them, we’re all in trouble.”
Loretta trotted over at that point. “Weldon,” she said, “if you’re going to get loud and vulgar, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“It’s okay, Loretta,” I intervened. “He’ll calm down. Won’t you Weldon?”
But before he could answer, the first lady jumped back in. “Listen, Mr. Butt-insky,” she said heatedly, “we’re already in trouble, in case you didn’t know it. This country is at war, and the commander-in-chief can do whatever he needs to do in wartime.”
That really lit Weldon’s fuse. “Lady,” he said, “I’d like to draw a few things to your attention. One, Congress happens not to have declared war. Two, the Constitution doesn’t authorize the President to become a dictator even if war is declared.” As he ticked off his points, his voice kept getting louder and louder. I looked over at Loretta, who was scribbling furiously on her check pad. “Three, these power-grabs by politicians are a hell of a lot more dangerous than anything a terrorist could do to this country. The freedoms of three hundred million people are being stripped away! They’re substituting presidential decrees for the rule of law!”
Loretta threw our check on the table. “That’s it,” she said. “You’ve done it again. Now out with you. And don’t come back until you can sit and eat a peaceful meal, for a change.”
Weldon threw a five on the table and grabbed his Red Devils ball cap. He knows that when Loretta makes up her mind, there’s no appeal.
© Tony Russell, 2002
Friday, June 21, 2002
“Behind the News at NPR”
Lately I’ve been puzzled by the nature of the news coverage on National Public Radio. But on Friday a friend was able to arrange for me to sit in on the daily editorial conference where they decide what stories to air that evening, and what angle they’ll approach the stories from. Jack made me promise to sit there with my notebook and keep my mouth shut. I thought it would be a tough promise to keep, but I was so busy scribbling that I couldn’t have said anything anyway. Here, for what it’s worth, are my notes.
Walt: I think we ought to run something on the Padilla story. Ashcroft pushed it pretty hard, and made a big deal of the ‘dirty bomb’ threat.
Trevor: How about something on the name thing? He calls himself Abdullah al Muhajir, but the government keeps referring to him as Jose Padilla. We could check on whether he ever legally changed his name.
Walt: That’s not a bad angle. We could get a psychologist to talk about the significance of name changes, do a follow-up story on prison converts to Islam. I like it!
Nigel: What about approaching it from the Puerto Rican angle? We could interview other New York Puerto Ricans and they could talk about how they love this country, are shocked to see one of their own turn against it, et cetera.
Walt: That’s good. It’s got the ethnic diversity, the melting pot idea, and it plucks all the right patriotic chords. Donna?
Donna: I know I’m just a summer intern, but isn’t there really just ONE story here? I mean, the guy’s a US citizen—born in the USA—and Bush and Ashcroft are throwing him in a military brig with no charges, no lawyer, no evidence, and basically saying they’ll hold him as long as they want! If they can do that, the Constitution goes out the window! You might as well use it as toilet paper!
Walt: Donna, can you tone down the inflammatory rhetoric?
Donna: Sorry. I just think there’s a danger that running all these peripheral stories will distract people from what’s really important.
Walt: Suppose you let people who’ve covered the news for thirty years decide if something is ‘peripheral,’ as you put it. We’re not into partisan politics here. Our job is to present the news objectively, and we like to come at it with an offbeat approach that gives our coverage a certain cachet.
Donna: What do you mean, partisan politics? It’s the Constitution we’re talking about, for cryin’ out loud! That thing that’s supposed to be the foundation of our democracy!
Walt: [Exasperated] We’ve all heard your opinion now, Donna. Could we move on? Anybody else got any ideas?
Heloise: Padilla did so much traveling. I wonder if we could do one of those travel-in-his-footsteps stories where we retrace his route, talk about tourist accommodations and little-known scenic spots people might want to visit along the way.
Basil: If we did that, we could accompany it with an international cuisine feature. Highlight exotic local dishes, have people with interesting accents give their recipes, and so forth.
Walt: [Laughs] You guys are always looking to get away from the office, aren’t you?
Donna: [Belligerent now] If you’re going to do an international story, why don’t you do one on how this story, and the war on terrorism in general, are being covered in countries not controlled by US media conglomerates? There’s a whole other world out there that thinks we’ve lost our freaking minds!
Walt: [Really ticked] Donna, this isn’t the place for you to air your own particular adolescent views. We’re just a bunch of team players, putting on the best damned news show anywhere, so could you suit up or shut up!
Trevor: [Attempting to smooth things over] Walt, maybe the Constitutional issue would be worth looking at. On a scale of one to ten, I’d give it at least a six.
Walt: As long as we’re talking numbers, Trevor, suppose you remember what the administration’s piece of our budget happens to be.
Trevor: [Laughing] As if I could forget! Think of it this way, Walt. We could lead off with Ashcroft’s announcement and the administration’s position, and then get some law school professors to comment on them.
Walt: [Grudgingly] That’d do it, I guess. We could get the usual commentators—Stanford, Yale, the University of Chicago….
Donna: [Over the edge] Chicago! Stanford! You can’t get any real critique from those guys! They’re spawning grounds for the administration! They’re to universities what Enron was to business!
Walt: [With exaggerated patience] Listen, Donna, why don’t you run out and get us all some coffee and doughnuts while the grownups finish putting together the show?
© Tony Russell, 2002
Walt: I think we ought to run something on the Padilla story. Ashcroft pushed it pretty hard, and made a big deal of the ‘dirty bomb’ threat.
Trevor: How about something on the name thing? He calls himself Abdullah al Muhajir, but the government keeps referring to him as Jose Padilla. We could check on whether he ever legally changed his name.
Walt: That’s not a bad angle. We could get a psychologist to talk about the significance of name changes, do a follow-up story on prison converts to Islam. I like it!
Nigel: What about approaching it from the Puerto Rican angle? We could interview other New York Puerto Ricans and they could talk about how they love this country, are shocked to see one of their own turn against it, et cetera.
Walt: That’s good. It’s got the ethnic diversity, the melting pot idea, and it plucks all the right patriotic chords. Donna?
Donna: I know I’m just a summer intern, but isn’t there really just ONE story here? I mean, the guy’s a US citizen—born in the USA—and Bush and Ashcroft are throwing him in a military brig with no charges, no lawyer, no evidence, and basically saying they’ll hold him as long as they want! If they can do that, the Constitution goes out the window! You might as well use it as toilet paper!
Walt: Donna, can you tone down the inflammatory rhetoric?
Donna: Sorry. I just think there’s a danger that running all these peripheral stories will distract people from what’s really important.
Walt: Suppose you let people who’ve covered the news for thirty years decide if something is ‘peripheral,’ as you put it. We’re not into partisan politics here. Our job is to present the news objectively, and we like to come at it with an offbeat approach that gives our coverage a certain cachet.
Donna: What do you mean, partisan politics? It’s the Constitution we’re talking about, for cryin’ out loud! That thing that’s supposed to be the foundation of our democracy!
Walt: [Exasperated] We’ve all heard your opinion now, Donna. Could we move on? Anybody else got any ideas?
Heloise: Padilla did so much traveling. I wonder if we could do one of those travel-in-his-footsteps stories where we retrace his route, talk about tourist accommodations and little-known scenic spots people might want to visit along the way.
Basil: If we did that, we could accompany it with an international cuisine feature. Highlight exotic local dishes, have people with interesting accents give their recipes, and so forth.
Walt: [Laughs] You guys are always looking to get away from the office, aren’t you?
Donna: [Belligerent now] If you’re going to do an international story, why don’t you do one on how this story, and the war on terrorism in general, are being covered in countries not controlled by US media conglomerates? There’s a whole other world out there that thinks we’ve lost our freaking minds!
Walt: [Really ticked] Donna, this isn’t the place for you to air your own particular adolescent views. We’re just a bunch of team players, putting on the best damned news show anywhere, so could you suit up or shut up!
Trevor: [Attempting to smooth things over] Walt, maybe the Constitutional issue would be worth looking at. On a scale of one to ten, I’d give it at least a six.
Walt: As long as we’re talking numbers, Trevor, suppose you remember what the administration’s piece of our budget happens to be.
Trevor: [Laughing] As if I could forget! Think of it this way, Walt. We could lead off with Ashcroft’s announcement and the administration’s position, and then get some law school professors to comment on them.
Walt: [Grudgingly] That’d do it, I guess. We could get the usual commentators—Stanford, Yale, the University of Chicago….
Donna: [Over the edge] Chicago! Stanford! You can’t get any real critique from those guys! They’re spawning grounds for the administration! They’re to universities what Enron was to business!
Walt: [With exaggerated patience] Listen, Donna, why don’t you run out and get us all some coffee and doughnuts while the grownups finish putting together the show?
© Tony Russell, 2002
Sunday, June 16, 2002
“Volunteer Industry Leaders for Education”
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It is my pleasure to act as your host this evening. As you know, over the past twenty years or so, we have heard a rising chorus of criticism for the work of public schools. Much of that chorus has been made up of business and industry spokespeople, united in their assertion that our educational factories--to use their metaphor--have been turning out an unacceptable number of defective products. Tonight we are gathered to honor some of the voices in that chorus.
“Already these leaders have made a remarkable impact on our approach to public education. The ultimate goal of such schooling, in my own youth, was to prepare citizens equipped to handle their role in a democracy. Now, the goal is to prepare employees to function properly in the workplace. The emphasis is on marketable skills, on training students to think of their educational program, from the middle school years on, strictly in terms of how their courses will prepare them for a career. This is real progress!
“In more subtle ways, these leaders have also helped lay the groundwork for transitioning students from school to work. Strict new attendance policies, longer school years, and tougher graduation requirements all let students know, subliminally, that youth is not a time to goof off; it’s a training ground for fitting into the workforce. That message has been reinforced by virtually eliminating recreation and physical education from their schedules, along with such distractions as art, band, choir, etc. If students want to run around wildly or tootle on a horn, they can do it like any other worker—after the job, on their own time!
“One of the key elements in all this change has been a group of top-level executives who had the vision to create a business think-tank to influence policy-makers and public opinion on educational issues. And it is that organization—“Volunteer Industry Leaders for Education” – which we find ourselves members of, gathered tonight to celebrate the successes of the past two decades. V.I.L.E. has been a catalyst for transforming public education. Its members, despite the demands of their enormous responsibilities in the military-industrial complex, have dedicated themselves to this task. At the same time, we have created a new culture-hero for our times—the brash, dynamic, can-do CEO.
“So join with me now in recognizing the contributions certain of our members have made to American education, as they exemplify the qualities they seek to instill in our young people.
“The first honoree tonight is L. Dennis Kozlowski, who built Tyco International into a major international conglomerate. Dennis sends his regrets. He had a prior commitment, meeting with Manhattan prosecutors who have indicted him for sales tax evasion. Good luck, Dennis! Loved your art collection!
“Our second honoree, Kenneth Lay, former CEO of Enron, pioneered in trading energy futures, and helped build Enron into one of the largest corporations in the world. His Houston-based corporation is known for its aggressive courting of political allies and for its insider status. Mr. Lay has been the principal financial backer for the political career of another Texan, our current ‘national CEO,’ Mr. George Bush! Unfortunately, Mr. Lay had other obligations, and cannot be here this evening. Kenny Boy, I’m sure your old friends will stick by you!
“Our third honoree, the corporate leadership of R. J. Reynolds Tobacco Company, is also unable to be here this evening. They are preparing an appeal to the $20 million fine they were levied for violating an agreement to stop marketing tobacco to youth, and say it is eating up all their time. Guys, we miss you!
Our fourth honoree, H. Ross Perot, led the fight for educational reform in Texas. Ross planned to be here, but at the last minute he had to help prepare a response to a subpoena from the California attorney general’s office. Legislators there have alleged that Perot Systems coached energy traders in ways to manipulate the state’s energy markets, costing California consumers and taxpayers billions of dollars. Befuddle ‘em with flipcharts, Ross!
Our fifth honoree, Ken Kurtzman, CEO of Ashford.com, the online jewelry sellers, had a prior engagement. Ken was able to settle his fraud accusation with the S.E.C. by paying a penalty of only $60,000. Way to play hardball, Ken!
“Our sixth honorees, the Rigas family, control Adelphia Communications, the giant cable operators. Unfortunately, they had to meet with investigators concerned about huge undisclosed transactions between Adelphia and other family ‘entities.’ Good move, firing your auditors, folks!
Our seventh honorees are those ever-reliable investment counselors at Merrill Lynch. Unfortunately, they’re working overtime on damage control, and also send their regrets. Those internal memos in which their analysts trashed stocks they were recommending to customers jumped up and bit them. Cheer up, guys and gals; that $100 million settlement was less than you spend on office supplies and postage!
Our eighth and final honoree is Sam Waksal, CEO of ImClone Systems. We thought Sam was going to be able to make it, once he was released on bail, but then came that subpoena from that House subcommittee, and he had to go to Washington. It’s embarrassing to have somebody ask if you ‘put personal profiteering ahead of patients’; I wouldn’t answer it either! Keep pleading the Fifth Amendment, Sam. That’s what it’s there for!
So it’s a clean sweep! None of them could make it! But these empty chairs on the stage represent so much that corporate leadership has meant, not only in shaping our current educational agenda, but American society as a whole. I’m sure you’ll join me now in putting your hands together for all of our honorees, and not just for them, but the countless others who have worked just as diligently toward the same ends. Before we close, we’d like to ask Wendy Gramm to lead us in ‘God Bless America.’ That will conclude our program, and you can return to your caviar. Thank you, and good night.”
© Tony Russell, 2002
“Already these leaders have made a remarkable impact on our approach to public education. The ultimate goal of such schooling, in my own youth, was to prepare citizens equipped to handle their role in a democracy. Now, the goal is to prepare employees to function properly in the workplace. The emphasis is on marketable skills, on training students to think of their educational program, from the middle school years on, strictly in terms of how their courses will prepare them for a career. This is real progress!
“In more subtle ways, these leaders have also helped lay the groundwork for transitioning students from school to work. Strict new attendance policies, longer school years, and tougher graduation requirements all let students know, subliminally, that youth is not a time to goof off; it’s a training ground for fitting into the workforce. That message has been reinforced by virtually eliminating recreation and physical education from their schedules, along with such distractions as art, band, choir, etc. If students want to run around wildly or tootle on a horn, they can do it like any other worker—after the job, on their own time!
“One of the key elements in all this change has been a group of top-level executives who had the vision to create a business think-tank to influence policy-makers and public opinion on educational issues. And it is that organization—“Volunteer Industry Leaders for Education” – which we find ourselves members of, gathered tonight to celebrate the successes of the past two decades. V.I.L.E. has been a catalyst for transforming public education. Its members, despite the demands of their enormous responsibilities in the military-industrial complex, have dedicated themselves to this task. At the same time, we have created a new culture-hero for our times—the brash, dynamic, can-do CEO.
“So join with me now in recognizing the contributions certain of our members have made to American education, as they exemplify the qualities they seek to instill in our young people.
“The first honoree tonight is L. Dennis Kozlowski, who built Tyco International into a major international conglomerate. Dennis sends his regrets. He had a prior commitment, meeting with Manhattan prosecutors who have indicted him for sales tax evasion. Good luck, Dennis! Loved your art collection!
“Our second honoree, Kenneth Lay, former CEO of Enron, pioneered in trading energy futures, and helped build Enron into one of the largest corporations in the world. His Houston-based corporation is known for its aggressive courting of political allies and for its insider status. Mr. Lay has been the principal financial backer for the political career of another Texan, our current ‘national CEO,’ Mr. George Bush! Unfortunately, Mr. Lay had other obligations, and cannot be here this evening. Kenny Boy, I’m sure your old friends will stick by you!
“Our third honoree, the corporate leadership of R. J. Reynolds Tobacco Company, is also unable to be here this evening. They are preparing an appeal to the $20 million fine they were levied for violating an agreement to stop marketing tobacco to youth, and say it is eating up all their time. Guys, we miss you!
Our fourth honoree, H. Ross Perot, led the fight for educational reform in Texas. Ross planned to be here, but at the last minute he had to help prepare a response to a subpoena from the California attorney general’s office. Legislators there have alleged that Perot Systems coached energy traders in ways to manipulate the state’s energy markets, costing California consumers and taxpayers billions of dollars. Befuddle ‘em with flipcharts, Ross!
Our fifth honoree, Ken Kurtzman, CEO of Ashford.com, the online jewelry sellers, had a prior engagement. Ken was able to settle his fraud accusation with the S.E.C. by paying a penalty of only $60,000. Way to play hardball, Ken!
“Our sixth honorees, the Rigas family, control Adelphia Communications, the giant cable operators. Unfortunately, they had to meet with investigators concerned about huge undisclosed transactions between Adelphia and other family ‘entities.’ Good move, firing your auditors, folks!
Our seventh honorees are those ever-reliable investment counselors at Merrill Lynch. Unfortunately, they’re working overtime on damage control, and also send their regrets. Those internal memos in which their analysts trashed stocks they were recommending to customers jumped up and bit them. Cheer up, guys and gals; that $100 million settlement was less than you spend on office supplies and postage!
Our eighth and final honoree is Sam Waksal, CEO of ImClone Systems. We thought Sam was going to be able to make it, once he was released on bail, but then came that subpoena from that House subcommittee, and he had to go to Washington. It’s embarrassing to have somebody ask if you ‘put personal profiteering ahead of patients’; I wouldn’t answer it either! Keep pleading the Fifth Amendment, Sam. That’s what it’s there for!
So it’s a clean sweep! None of them could make it! But these empty chairs on the stage represent so much that corporate leadership has meant, not only in shaping our current educational agenda, but American society as a whole. I’m sure you’ll join me now in putting your hands together for all of our honorees, and not just for them, but the countless others who have worked just as diligently toward the same ends. Before we close, we’d like to ask Wendy Gramm to lead us in ‘God Bless America.’ That will conclude our program, and you can return to your caviar. Thank you, and good night.”
© Tony Russell, 2002
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