“What’s up, Wendell?” I asked, sliding into the booth. “You look like a cat that just swallowed a two-pound canary.”
He flipped the Hur Herald around and jabbed a finger at the front page. “Take a look at that,” he said gleefully. “Another Republican politician caught with his hand in the till. So many of these guys have been indicted now the court’ll look like Wal-Mart the day after Thanksgiving!”
“And that makes you happy?” I said.
“Damn straight,” he said. “I’ve had it up to here with those hypocrites.” He snorted. “These were the guys who were gonna restore honor and dignity to politics. The family values guys, the guys who prayed every time you put a mike in front of their mouth. They turned evangelical churches into party headquarters. If you listened to them, God punched a straight Republican ticket. And now it turns out they’re no better than a den of thieves.”
I glanced over the story. “Wow,” I said. “Duke Cunningham. Eight-term Congressman from San Diego. Pled guilty to taking $2.4 million dollars in bribes from three defense contractors! He didn’t play around with chicken feed, did he?”
“Look at the perks,” said Wendell. “A mansion, a suburban Washington condominium, a yacht, and a Rolls Royce. The man liked the high life.”
Madge was standing there, waiting to take my order. “I’ll have the health-food special,” I said. “Two over easy, three slices of bacon, a couple of waffles, and a cup of coffee, cream and sugar.”
“You’re feeling good about the wrong thing,” muttered Madge, as she jotted down the order on her pad.
“What’s that?” said Wendell.
“Read the rest of the story,” she said. She pointed with her pencil to the middle of the page. The truth is I broke the law, concealed my conduct, and disgraced my office. I know I will forfeit my reputation, my worldly possessions –and, most importantly, the trust of my friends and family. I can't undo what I have done, but I can atone. I'm almost 65 years old and I enter the twilight of my life. I intend to use the remaining time that God grants me to make amends, and I will.
“It’s just part of the plea agreement,” scoffed Wendell. “He had to show contrition.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Don’t be such a damned cynic, Wendell,” she snapped. “Yes, the guy betrayed everybody who ever voted for him. And yes, that’s your money and mine he was pissing away. There’s no excuse for that. He deserves his punishment. But he looked at himself, in front of all of us, and said he was ashamed of what he saw. And then he promised to do something about it: ‘I can’t undo what I have done, but I can atone.’”
“So what’s your point?” he asked.
“You’re always griping about Rumsfeld and Cheney and Bush. How they never admit they’ve made a mistake. How everybody acts as if Bush is such a he-man because he never looks back, never admits he was wrong, and never says he’s sorry.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So now you’ve got a guy who was a Navy fighter pilot, had medals saying he was a hero, turned into a crook and a liar—and has finally become a real man. You ought to appreciate one when you see one.”
“Madge,” I said, “could you make that flapjacks instead of waffles? And add some biscuits and gravy on the side?”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Monday, November 28, 2005
“Deserting a Sinking Ship”
Washington, Nov. 28 –
Reports from the Potomac basin today indicate that the Presidential yacht is taking on water at an alarming rate. Despite administration efforts to spin water overboard, the ship is said to be in danger of capsizing and going to the bottom.
The yacht suffered major damage during Hurricane Katrina, although nautical experts say that hairline cracks had already been detected below the ship’s water line. Efforts to repair the craft in the hurricane’s aftermath were hampered by aides’ inability to get the President’s attention for five days while damage worsened. The President was reportedly riding his bicycle at the time.
Stories of the vessel’s grave condition have gained added credibility from accounts of rats racing to leave the craft, squealing and nipping at each other in their frenzied haste to abandon ship. Republican politicians, who were partying on the ship at the time it ran into foul weather, are increasingly alarmed at the vessel’s condition. Old hands Brent Scowcroft and Lawrence Wilkerson, who served aboard when the current captain’s father was at the helm, jumped ship in the past few weeks.
Republican Jerry Kilgore, locked in a neck-and-neck contest with Tim Kaine in the Virginia gubernatorial race, called Mr. Bush in for a last-minute joint appearance in hopes of giving his campaign a boost. He lost by a stunning six percentage points. Commentators are unable to account for the sudden shift in voter sentiment. It is reported, however, that the results sprang another leak in the vessel’s hull.
Subsequently, Senator Rick Santorum, trailing his challenger by sixteen points in recent polls, was unable to rearrange his schedule to appear with Mr. Bush during the President’s recent trip to Pennsylvania.
Eyewitnesses say that ropes mooring the craft are so crowded with panicky rats biting and infighting that the ropes are slick with blood and hazardous to cross. Several rats have been knocked off and apparently drowned; others are expected to fall now that Patrick Fitzgerald has convened a new grand jury.
Unconfirmed reports describe an exodus of huge rats with a purplish hue to their turncoats. These so-called Democ rats took up lodging on the Presidential ship in fair weather, voting for a series of Presidential measures, including tax cuts for the wealthy, the Iraq war, the Patriot Act, and the bankruptcy bill. Almost all are said to have fled the ship now, and are attempting to mingle with their brethren and sisters who had stayed ashore.
© Tony Russell, 2005
Reports from the Potomac basin today indicate that the Presidential yacht is taking on water at an alarming rate. Despite administration efforts to spin water overboard, the ship is said to be in danger of capsizing and going to the bottom.
The yacht suffered major damage during Hurricane Katrina, although nautical experts say that hairline cracks had already been detected below the ship’s water line. Efforts to repair the craft in the hurricane’s aftermath were hampered by aides’ inability to get the President’s attention for five days while damage worsened. The President was reportedly riding his bicycle at the time.
Stories of the vessel’s grave condition have gained added credibility from accounts of rats racing to leave the craft, squealing and nipping at each other in their frenzied haste to abandon ship. Republican politicians, who were partying on the ship at the time it ran into foul weather, are increasingly alarmed at the vessel’s condition. Old hands Brent Scowcroft and Lawrence Wilkerson, who served aboard when the current captain’s father was at the helm, jumped ship in the past few weeks.
Republican Jerry Kilgore, locked in a neck-and-neck contest with Tim Kaine in the Virginia gubernatorial race, called Mr. Bush in for a last-minute joint appearance in hopes of giving his campaign a boost. He lost by a stunning six percentage points. Commentators are unable to account for the sudden shift in voter sentiment. It is reported, however, that the results sprang another leak in the vessel’s hull.
Subsequently, Senator Rick Santorum, trailing his challenger by sixteen points in recent polls, was unable to rearrange his schedule to appear with Mr. Bush during the President’s recent trip to Pennsylvania.
Eyewitnesses say that ropes mooring the craft are so crowded with panicky rats biting and infighting that the ropes are slick with blood and hazardous to cross. Several rats have been knocked off and apparently drowned; others are expected to fall now that Patrick Fitzgerald has convened a new grand jury.
Unconfirmed reports describe an exodus of huge rats with a purplish hue to their turncoats. These so-called Democ rats took up lodging on the Presidential ship in fair weather, voting for a series of Presidential measures, including tax cuts for the wealthy, the Iraq war, the Patriot Act, and the bankruptcy bill. Almost all are said to have fled the ship now, and are attempting to mingle with their brethren and sisters who had stayed ashore.
© Tony Russell, 2005
Monday, November 21, 2005
“Behind Dick Cheney’s Back”
The guy sitting next to me looked up from his newspaper. “Did you see this?” he asked. “Scooter Libby was indicted on five counts of perjury, obstruction of justice, and making false statements.”
“Yeah, I heard about it on the radio before I left work,” I said.
“It’s just hard to believe, isn’t it?” he said, with a note of lingering surprise.
“What do you mean?”
“You know. That the Vice President’s Chief of Staff—the guy who had such a reputation for loyalty and dedication to the Vice President—would do something like this behind Dick Cheney’s back.”
“I’m not sure where you’re going with this,” I said.
“Well, he’s supposed to be doing what the Vice President wants him to, isn’t he? I mean, he’s the Veep’s right-hand man, his go-to guy.”
“Uh huh?”
“But instead, here he is, heading off on his own, just completely out of control. Tying up the office phones calling journalists to talk about Joe Wilson’s wife, using precious work time to try to get revenge on someone who’d attacked the administration’s credibility on that Niger yellowcake thing.”
“He seems to have been pretty busy,” I admitted.
“God, Dick Cheney must feel so betrayed,” he mused. “Counting on Scooter Libby, and Libby pulls a stunt like this.”
“What in the world could have motivated him?” I wondered.
“He must have just lost it,” the guy theorized. “It’s so out of character for him. He worked like a dog for Cheney, always carrying out his instructions with such zeal and thoroughness, maybe he just got carried away. It happens.”
“How do you suppose he kept it a secret from the Vice President?” I wondered.
“That’s really the sad part, isn’t it?” said the guy. “Imagine trying to hide something like that from a boss who trusted you with everything. They were so close that people called Scooter Cheney’s ‘alter ego.’ Cheney has to be devastated, to discover that Libby was doing all those rotten things and keeping him in the dark.”
“You’d think Libby would have ‘fessed up to his boss at some point.”
“You would, but I guess he was just too ashamed.”
“How’s Cheney taking it?” I asked.
“Hard to say. According to the paper, he put out a statement that he had accepted Libby’s resignation ‘with deep regret.’”
“That was generous of him.”
“You know Dick Cheney. He’s not a vindictive man.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
“Yeah, I heard about it on the radio before I left work,” I said.
“It’s just hard to believe, isn’t it?” he said, with a note of lingering surprise.
“What do you mean?”
“You know. That the Vice President’s Chief of Staff—the guy who had such a reputation for loyalty and dedication to the Vice President—would do something like this behind Dick Cheney’s back.”
“I’m not sure where you’re going with this,” I said.
“Well, he’s supposed to be doing what the Vice President wants him to, isn’t he? I mean, he’s the Veep’s right-hand man, his go-to guy.”
“Uh huh?”
“But instead, here he is, heading off on his own, just completely out of control. Tying up the office phones calling journalists to talk about Joe Wilson’s wife, using precious work time to try to get revenge on someone who’d attacked the administration’s credibility on that Niger yellowcake thing.”
“He seems to have been pretty busy,” I admitted.
“God, Dick Cheney must feel so betrayed,” he mused. “Counting on Scooter Libby, and Libby pulls a stunt like this.”
“What in the world could have motivated him?” I wondered.
“He must have just lost it,” the guy theorized. “It’s so out of character for him. He worked like a dog for Cheney, always carrying out his instructions with such zeal and thoroughness, maybe he just got carried away. It happens.”
“How do you suppose he kept it a secret from the Vice President?” I wondered.
“That’s really the sad part, isn’t it?” said the guy. “Imagine trying to hide something like that from a boss who trusted you with everything. They were so close that people called Scooter Cheney’s ‘alter ego.’ Cheney has to be devastated, to discover that Libby was doing all those rotten things and keeping him in the dark.”
“You’d think Libby would have ‘fessed up to his boss at some point.”
“You would, but I guess he was just too ashamed.”
“How’s Cheney taking it?” I asked.
“Hard to say. According to the paper, he put out a statement that he had accepted Libby’s resignation ‘with deep regret.’”
“That was generous of him.”
“You know Dick Cheney. He’s not a vindictive man.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Monday, November 14, 2005
“Inflammatory Rhetoric of the Most Violent Kind”
Leaders from both political parties have joined together to denounce Sen. Harry Reid’s statement that President Bush and Vice-President Dick Cheney should apologize for the actions of their aides. Both Scooter Libby and Karl Rove have been implicated in efforts to silence opponents of the administration’s covert plan to pull the nation into war in Iraq.
“This is outrageous!” said Rep. Tom DeLay (R-Texas) of Reid’s statement. “It’s inflammatory rhetoric of the most violent kind.”
“Extremist positions of this type are precisely what have cost Democrats any credibility on national security issues,” added Sen. Bill Frist (R-Tenn).
Reid’s bare-knuckled assault on the administration was hastily rejected by leading Democrats as well. Sen. Hillary Clinton (D-NY), frequently mentioned as a potential Democratic presidential nominee in 2008, issued a statement saying, “The administration can be faulted for not sending in enough troops to do the job in invading Iraq, and for not having a plan in place for the resulting occupation, but as Americans, we can all agree that our brave men and women, living and dead, who fought so valiantly against Iraqi forces, living and dead, deserve our full support.”
In a veiled reference to her husband’s tenure in the White House, Sen. Clinton said, “My husband and I still recall the civility and evenhandedness with which the special prosecutor and his staff treated us in our own difficulties. It is unthinkable that we would not extend President Bush and his staff the same courtesy and respect.”
Sen. Reid defended his remarks. “I understand that asking for an apology is really bringing out the big guns, but I believe, given the circumstances, it is not inappropriate. We are a nation of law and reason, and even something as extreme as a call for an apology can be justified in some situations.”
Opponents of the war were heartened by Reid’s stand. “It’s this kind of tough, hard-nosed behavior that has been lacking for so long in Congress,” said a spokesperson for MoveOn.org. “It’s about time somebody called the administration to account. Hopefully, Sen. Reid’s forceful leadership on this issue will inspire other Democrats to take up the fight.”
Republicans, who led impeachment proceedings against Pres. Clinton for having a blowjob in the Oval Office, rejected Reid’s explanation. “Clinton’s behavior struck at the very heart of the Presidency,” said Republican lobbyist Jack Abramoff. “The actions of a few aides, taken in the context of their patriotic fervor to defend our country, pale by comparison.”
Since the Bush administration plunged the nation into war in Iraq, over 2,000 U.S. soldiers have died, with no end in sight. An estimated 42,000 Iraqis have died as well, many of them women and children. Thousands more have been wounded. Many have been tortured. It is now clear that the administration used discredited, unreliable, and even forged evidence to make the case for war. At the same time the President was publicly saying he hadn’t made up his mind whether to go to war, he had already told the Saudi ambassador privately that war was in the works. Plans were coordinated with Britain, the main U.S. partner in the adventure, and the head of Britain’s intelligence reported to the British cabinet that “intelligence was being fixed” around the push for war. Meanwhile, the administration secretly diverted $700,000,000 intended for the war in Afghanistan to preparations for an Iraqi war, concealing the spending from Congress. The U.S. budget is deep in red ink, and programs such as Medicare and Medicaid are being slashed to help cut the deficit.
Republicans have called upon Sen. Reid to apologize for calling for an apology.
© Tony Russell, 2005
“This is outrageous!” said Rep. Tom DeLay (R-Texas) of Reid’s statement. “It’s inflammatory rhetoric of the most violent kind.”
“Extremist positions of this type are precisely what have cost Democrats any credibility on national security issues,” added Sen. Bill Frist (R-Tenn).
Reid’s bare-knuckled assault on the administration was hastily rejected by leading Democrats as well. Sen. Hillary Clinton (D-NY), frequently mentioned as a potential Democratic presidential nominee in 2008, issued a statement saying, “The administration can be faulted for not sending in enough troops to do the job in invading Iraq, and for not having a plan in place for the resulting occupation, but as Americans, we can all agree that our brave men and women, living and dead, who fought so valiantly against Iraqi forces, living and dead, deserve our full support.”
In a veiled reference to her husband’s tenure in the White House, Sen. Clinton said, “My husband and I still recall the civility and evenhandedness with which the special prosecutor and his staff treated us in our own difficulties. It is unthinkable that we would not extend President Bush and his staff the same courtesy and respect.”
Sen. Reid defended his remarks. “I understand that asking for an apology is really bringing out the big guns, but I believe, given the circumstances, it is not inappropriate. We are a nation of law and reason, and even something as extreme as a call for an apology can be justified in some situations.”
Opponents of the war were heartened by Reid’s stand. “It’s this kind of tough, hard-nosed behavior that has been lacking for so long in Congress,” said a spokesperson for MoveOn.org. “It’s about time somebody called the administration to account. Hopefully, Sen. Reid’s forceful leadership on this issue will inspire other Democrats to take up the fight.”
Republicans, who led impeachment proceedings against Pres. Clinton for having a blowjob in the Oval Office, rejected Reid’s explanation. “Clinton’s behavior struck at the very heart of the Presidency,” said Republican lobbyist Jack Abramoff. “The actions of a few aides, taken in the context of their patriotic fervor to defend our country, pale by comparison.”
Since the Bush administration plunged the nation into war in Iraq, over 2,000 U.S. soldiers have died, with no end in sight. An estimated 42,000 Iraqis have died as well, many of them women and children. Thousands more have been wounded. Many have been tortured. It is now clear that the administration used discredited, unreliable, and even forged evidence to make the case for war. At the same time the President was publicly saying he hadn’t made up his mind whether to go to war, he had already told the Saudi ambassador privately that war was in the works. Plans were coordinated with Britain, the main U.S. partner in the adventure, and the head of Britain’s intelligence reported to the British cabinet that “intelligence was being fixed” around the push for war. Meanwhile, the administration secretly diverted $700,000,000 intended for the war in Afghanistan to preparations for an Iraqi war, concealing the spending from Congress. The U.S. budget is deep in red ink, and programs such as Medicare and Medicaid are being slashed to help cut the deficit.
Republicans have called upon Sen. Reid to apologize for calling for an apology.
© Tony Russell, 2005
Monday, November 07, 2005
“Out of Gas”
We were off on the side of the road, hoping somebody with a gas can would stop. “If we had to run out of gas, this is a great place to do it!” I said enthusiastically. “I’ve seen a six-point buck and an eight-point buck already, and we’ve only been here a little over an hour.”
Patty was seething. “Ace, I pointed out four exits back that the gas was low. I reminded you three exits back. I told you two exits back we were almost on empty. Right before the last exit I told you the gas gauge was in the red.”
“Whoa there, Patty,” I said. “Let’s not play the blame game. Who could have known that you can go less than thirty miles when the gauge shows empty? They just don’t make ‘em the way they used to.”
“That’s what you said the last time we ran out of gas,” she complained. “And the time before that. And the time before that.”
“These things happen,” I said. “Nobody could have predicted it.”
“I hope you’re happy that we’re missing my baby sister’s wedding,” she said bitterly.
“Hey,” I joked, “if we miss this one, we’ll just catch Louellen the next time around.”
“She’s only been married twice,” hissed Patty. “At least she’s got sense enough to know when she’s made a mistake. Unlike some people I know.”
“Hey, wait just a minute there,” I said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Ace,” she said, “you remind me of George Bush.”
“Well, it’s about time you had something nice to say about me,” I said with relief.
“He gets a briefing that al Qaeda has a plot cooking to use domestic airplanes in a terrorist attack, and he decides to stay on vacation and chop some more wood. Then, when they level the World Trade Center, he’s all outraged innocence. Taken completely by surprise.
“He ignores warnings from the State Department and people like Senator Byrd that he needs to have a plan in place for managing Iraq once we’ve conquered it, and then he skips ahead to get a war going in time for the election. When everything turns to chaos—looting, power and water supplies cut off to huge parts of the country, security nonexistent—he acts as if it was inevitable.
“He ignores the almost-unanimous warnings of scientists that our auto emissions and old power plants are major contributors to the greenhouse effect, and fights to let them both keep spewing out pollution. Then when the warm ocean turns mild hurricanes into killers, he claims they’re acts of God.
“He cuts funding to repair levies in New Orleans, lets his developer buddies drain the marshes that acted as natural buffer zones, guts the Federal Emergency Management Agency of its professionals and turns it over to incompetent cronies, ignores warnings of what would happen if a major hurricane should hit, and decides to hang out for another five days of vacation when the city is drowning and people are dying.”
“What are you saying here, Patty?” I asked. “That the guy’s unlucky, or what?”
She cut loose with some language which, frankly, I found shocking. “Patty,” I said, “your mother raised you better than that.”
She glared at me. “’Moron’ is not a four-letter word.”
“Look, Patty,” I said, “cut me some slack. If you’re going to make me out to be George Bush, how about your being a little more like Harriet Miers, and a lot less like Cindy Sheehan?”
“Ace,” she said, “I’d cut my tongue out with a rusty jackknife before I’d tell you you’re the most brilliant man I’ve ever known.”
“Wait a minute,” I protested. “If Harriet Miers can do it, what’s your problem?”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Patty was seething. “Ace, I pointed out four exits back that the gas was low. I reminded you three exits back. I told you two exits back we were almost on empty. Right before the last exit I told you the gas gauge was in the red.”
“Whoa there, Patty,” I said. “Let’s not play the blame game. Who could have known that you can go less than thirty miles when the gauge shows empty? They just don’t make ‘em the way they used to.”
“That’s what you said the last time we ran out of gas,” she complained. “And the time before that. And the time before that.”
“These things happen,” I said. “Nobody could have predicted it.”
“I hope you’re happy that we’re missing my baby sister’s wedding,” she said bitterly.
“Hey,” I joked, “if we miss this one, we’ll just catch Louellen the next time around.”
“She’s only been married twice,” hissed Patty. “At least she’s got sense enough to know when she’s made a mistake. Unlike some people I know.”
“Hey, wait just a minute there,” I said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Ace,” she said, “you remind me of George Bush.”
“Well, it’s about time you had something nice to say about me,” I said with relief.
“He gets a briefing that al Qaeda has a plot cooking to use domestic airplanes in a terrorist attack, and he decides to stay on vacation and chop some more wood. Then, when they level the World Trade Center, he’s all outraged innocence. Taken completely by surprise.
“He ignores warnings from the State Department and people like Senator Byrd that he needs to have a plan in place for managing Iraq once we’ve conquered it, and then he skips ahead to get a war going in time for the election. When everything turns to chaos—looting, power and water supplies cut off to huge parts of the country, security nonexistent—he acts as if it was inevitable.
“He ignores the almost-unanimous warnings of scientists that our auto emissions and old power plants are major contributors to the greenhouse effect, and fights to let them both keep spewing out pollution. Then when the warm ocean turns mild hurricanes into killers, he claims they’re acts of God.
“He cuts funding to repair levies in New Orleans, lets his developer buddies drain the marshes that acted as natural buffer zones, guts the Federal Emergency Management Agency of its professionals and turns it over to incompetent cronies, ignores warnings of what would happen if a major hurricane should hit, and decides to hang out for another five days of vacation when the city is drowning and people are dying.”
“What are you saying here, Patty?” I asked. “That the guy’s unlucky, or what?”
She cut loose with some language which, frankly, I found shocking. “Patty,” I said, “your mother raised you better than that.”
She glared at me. “’Moron’ is not a four-letter word.”
“Look, Patty,” I said, “cut me some slack. If you’re going to make me out to be George Bush, how about your being a little more like Harriet Miers, and a lot less like Cindy Sheehan?”
“Ace,” she said, “I’d cut my tongue out with a rusty jackknife before I’d tell you you’re the most brilliant man I’ve ever known.”
“Wait a minute,” I protested. “If Harriet Miers can do it, what’s your problem?”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Monday, October 31, 2005
“Who’s Being Un-American?”
“I was like a priest who had lost faith in the Church, but who, perhaps for that reason, clung closer to God.”
- The narrator, Joseph Antonelli, in D. W. Buffa’s novel The Judgment
* * * * * *
“Hey, Ace, how ya doin’? Still covering tractor-pulls, school food fights, and
crimes against traffic?”
“Still at it, Chuck. How about you? Still writing editorials on public affairs?”
“I am, but to tell the truth, I don’t know how long I can keep it up. It’s like pursing your lips and trying to blow Katrina back out to sea.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, you know what I mean. Before the Iraq war, I wrote that the administration was rushing to war even though the inspections were working. I wrote that the administration story about the yellowcake from Niger was bogus. I wrote that their aluminum-rods-for-reactors story was discredited. I wrote that Iraq would be in danger of descending into chaos. I wrote that depleted uranium munitions would cause enormous amounts of cancer and other illnesses, both among our troops and Iraqi civilians. I wrote that the alleged link between Saddam and al Qaeda was a fabrication. I wrote that the war was illegal under international law, as well as immoral.”
“Okay. So?”
“So go back and read the editorials. Then look at what eventually came out. No weapons of mass destruction, no link with al Qaeda, hundreds of billions of dollars poured into Iraqi sand and Halliburton’s pockets. Nearly two thousand American soldiers and a hundred thousand Iraqi civilians dead. More than a quarter of all returning U.S. soldiers suffering from physical or psychological problems. Iraq on its way to becoming an Islamic theocracy, and sliding toward anarchy or civil war. And insofar as the claim that we are building democracy in Iraq is concerned, a nationwide poll in Iraq, taken in August, found that
- 82% are "strongly opposed" to the presence of coalition troops;
- less than 1% of the population believes coalition forces have improved security;
- and 67% of Iraqis feel less secure because of the occupation.”
“Guess you’ve won over the skeptics, eh?”
“That’s what you think? Here’s a typical letter from a right-wing reader:
‘Chuck. I am sick of reading your nauseating far-left America-hating garbage. Why don’t you take a long walk off a short pier, holding hands with Michael Moore and Hanoi Jane.’”
“Gee, Chuck, do you actually know Michael Moore and Jane Fonda?”
“Ace, I think you’re missing the point here.”
“Just joking, Chuck. But seriously, why do you hate America?”
“Ace, if you expose the administration’s lies and denounce the torturing of prisoners by U.S. soldiers and argue that the U.S. invasion of Iraq was illegal, those things don’t make you an America-hater. They make you an ordinary citizen in a democracy, holding your country to the standards of truth, fairness, and justice it once taught you to believe in. The hypocrisy of this administration is that it uses patriotic rhetoric as a mask for betraying our basic values at every turn.”
“Whoa, now. Don’t you think you’re sounding pretty extreme there, Chuck?”
“Ace, this President is threatening to veto the entire military appropriations bill because the bill has an amendment, sponsored by John McCain, that prohibits the ‘cruel, inhuman or degrading’ treatment of prisoners held by the U.S. military. The amendment was approved by the Senate, 90 to 9. But Bush is threatening to veto it so he can have the power to torture prisoners. Now you tell me: Who’s being un-American here? Who’s being extreme?”
© Tony Russell, 2005
- The narrator, Joseph Antonelli, in D. W. Buffa’s novel The Judgment
* * * * * *
“Hey, Ace, how ya doin’? Still covering tractor-pulls, school food fights, and
crimes against traffic?”
“Still at it, Chuck. How about you? Still writing editorials on public affairs?”
“I am, but to tell the truth, I don’t know how long I can keep it up. It’s like pursing your lips and trying to blow Katrina back out to sea.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, you know what I mean. Before the Iraq war, I wrote that the administration was rushing to war even though the inspections were working. I wrote that the administration story about the yellowcake from Niger was bogus. I wrote that their aluminum-rods-for-reactors story was discredited. I wrote that Iraq would be in danger of descending into chaos. I wrote that depleted uranium munitions would cause enormous amounts of cancer and other illnesses, both among our troops and Iraqi civilians. I wrote that the alleged link between Saddam and al Qaeda was a fabrication. I wrote that the war was illegal under international law, as well as immoral.”
“Okay. So?”
“So go back and read the editorials. Then look at what eventually came out. No weapons of mass destruction, no link with al Qaeda, hundreds of billions of dollars poured into Iraqi sand and Halliburton’s pockets. Nearly two thousand American soldiers and a hundred thousand Iraqi civilians dead. More than a quarter of all returning U.S. soldiers suffering from physical or psychological problems. Iraq on its way to becoming an Islamic theocracy, and sliding toward anarchy or civil war. And insofar as the claim that we are building democracy in Iraq is concerned, a nationwide poll in Iraq, taken in August, found that
- 82% are "strongly opposed" to the presence of coalition troops;
- less than 1% of the population believes coalition forces have improved security;
- and 67% of Iraqis feel less secure because of the occupation.”
“Guess you’ve won over the skeptics, eh?”
“That’s what you think? Here’s a typical letter from a right-wing reader:
‘Chuck. I am sick of reading your nauseating far-left America-hating garbage. Why don’t you take a long walk off a short pier, holding hands with Michael Moore and Hanoi Jane.’”
“Gee, Chuck, do you actually know Michael Moore and Jane Fonda?”
“Ace, I think you’re missing the point here.”
“Just joking, Chuck. But seriously, why do you hate America?”
“Ace, if you expose the administration’s lies and denounce the torturing of prisoners by U.S. soldiers and argue that the U.S. invasion of Iraq was illegal, those things don’t make you an America-hater. They make you an ordinary citizen in a democracy, holding your country to the standards of truth, fairness, and justice it once taught you to believe in. The hypocrisy of this administration is that it uses patriotic rhetoric as a mask for betraying our basic values at every turn.”
“Whoa, now. Don’t you think you’re sounding pretty extreme there, Chuck?”
“Ace, this President is threatening to veto the entire military appropriations bill because the bill has an amendment, sponsored by John McCain, that prohibits the ‘cruel, inhuman or degrading’ treatment of prisoners held by the U.S. military. The amendment was approved by the Senate, 90 to 9. But Bush is threatening to veto it so he can have the power to torture prisoners. Now you tell me: Who’s being un-American here? Who’s being extreme?”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Search for Missing ‘Noble Cause’ Continues
CLEANING LADY QUESTIONED IN DISAPPEARANCE OF ‘NOBLE CAUSE’
Washington, Sept. 8 –
FBI spokesman Alvin Smithers acknowledged today that agents have questioned Juanita Robinson, 38, a White House cleaning lady, in the disappearance of the “noble cause” which President Bush has frequently cited as the reason for the U.S. invasion and occupation of Iraq. Ms. Robinson is employed by a temp agency which the White House, in its privatization efforts, has contracted with to clean various government offices.
Smithers said, “Ms. Robinson is a person of interest in our ongoing investigation, but she has not been charged and is not being held at this time.” Robinson’s name was initially floated as a suspect in the case by administration officials anxious to assign responsibility for the missing “noble cause,” preferably to someone with no political connection to the White House. Interest in Ms. Robinson accelerated when her fingerprints were found on items on the President’s desk. An angry Ms. Robinson has vehemently denied any involvement in the disappearance of the missing “noble cause.”
“The only reason my fingerprints were on that autographed baseball and those other toys was I picked ‘em up to dust, and then put ‘em right back where I found ‘em,” said Ms. Robinson. “I didn’t take nothin’! The whole month of August, while the President was on vacation, I came in every day and dusted and vacuumed his office so it’d look nice when he came back. And this is the thanks I get!”
Ms. Robinson said, “I want to find that ‘noble cause’ just as much as anybody else. Maybe more. My oldest boy Malcolm’s in the Army, and he just got sent back from Iraq. He’s in Walter Reed right now for rehabilitation. He lost part of his right leg and his spleen and one of his kidneys when a roadside bomb exploded under the truck he was ridin’ in. Now Malcolm be tellin’ me there ain’t no ‘noble cause,’ an never was one. How could I take somethin’ that don’t even exist? And why would the President say there was a ‘noble cause’ if there wasn’t? I don’t understand politics, but this jes’ don’t seem right.”
Malcolm Robinson, Ms. Robinson’s son, is well-known in D.C. athletic circles. He was a track star in high school, and won several hurdle events in the district championships. According to Ms. Robinson, he gave up a college track scholarship to join the Army after the tragic events of September 11, saying that he wanted to defend his country from further attacks. The son is not a suspect in the disappearance of the “noble cause.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Washington, Sept. 8 –
FBI spokesman Alvin Smithers acknowledged today that agents have questioned Juanita Robinson, 38, a White House cleaning lady, in the disappearance of the “noble cause” which President Bush has frequently cited as the reason for the U.S. invasion and occupation of Iraq. Ms. Robinson is employed by a temp agency which the White House, in its privatization efforts, has contracted with to clean various government offices.
Smithers said, “Ms. Robinson is a person of interest in our ongoing investigation, but she has not been charged and is not being held at this time.” Robinson’s name was initially floated as a suspect in the case by administration officials anxious to assign responsibility for the missing “noble cause,” preferably to someone with no political connection to the White House. Interest in Ms. Robinson accelerated when her fingerprints were found on items on the President’s desk. An angry Ms. Robinson has vehemently denied any involvement in the disappearance of the missing “noble cause.”
“The only reason my fingerprints were on that autographed baseball and those other toys was I picked ‘em up to dust, and then put ‘em right back where I found ‘em,” said Ms. Robinson. “I didn’t take nothin’! The whole month of August, while the President was on vacation, I came in every day and dusted and vacuumed his office so it’d look nice when he came back. And this is the thanks I get!”
Ms. Robinson said, “I want to find that ‘noble cause’ just as much as anybody else. Maybe more. My oldest boy Malcolm’s in the Army, and he just got sent back from Iraq. He’s in Walter Reed right now for rehabilitation. He lost part of his right leg and his spleen and one of his kidneys when a roadside bomb exploded under the truck he was ridin’ in. Now Malcolm be tellin’ me there ain’t no ‘noble cause,’ an never was one. How could I take somethin’ that don’t even exist? And why would the President say there was a ‘noble cause’ if there wasn’t? I don’t understand politics, but this jes’ don’t seem right.”
Malcolm Robinson, Ms. Robinson’s son, is well-known in D.C. athletic circles. He was a track star in high school, and won several hurdle events in the district championships. According to Ms. Robinson, he gave up a college track scholarship to join the Army after the tragic events of September 11, saying that he wanted to defend his country from further attacks. The son is not a suspect in the disappearance of the “noble cause.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Monday, September 05, 2005
Searching for the ‘Noble Cause’
EMBARRASSED WHITE HOUSE ADMITS INABILITY TO FIND “NOBLE CAUSE”
Washington, Sept. 6 –
White House Spokesman Scott McClellan, in this morning’s press conference, admitted “with a great deal of embarrassment,” that the White House has been unable to locate the “noble cause” for which over 1,900 U.S. troops and perhaps 100,000 Iraqi civilians have died.
In response to a question from a reporter with the Hur Herald, McClellan said that White House officials, after a “thorough, extensive, and painstaking search” of administration offices, have found no trace of the missing cause. President Bush has repeatedly cited the “noble cause” as justification for the invasion and continued occupation of Iraq. When asked if the absence of a noble cause would affect the U.S.’s willingness to continue with the bloody, horrendously expensive conflict, McClellan replied that the President saw no reason to stop prosecuting the war while the search for the missing cause goes on.
The missing “noble cause” was last seen, McClellan said, in the office of Deputy Defense Secretary Paul Wolfowitz, but Wolfowitz has disavowed any responsibility for the cause’s disappearance. “It was in Dick Cheney’s office, it was in Don Rumsfeld’s office, it was in Condi Rice’s office,” complained Wolfowitz. “Everybody in the administration had their hands on it at one time or another.”
“We are determined to get to the bottom of this,” declared McClellan, “and the search will continue until the cause is located.” Hopes have been raised on numerous occasions, but as each false sighting is ruled out, prospects for finding the cause—now missing for over three years—have grown increasingly slim.
McClellan read a brief statement from the President in which Mr. Bush said, “If any member of my administration acted wrongly or was involved in the disappearance of the noble cause, I will fire that person immediately, and he or she will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.” In the afternoon, the President issued a clarification, saying, “What I meant was that I would fire anyone who was convicted for the disappearance of the noble cause.”
Reacting to the announcement, media commentators immediately began comparing the vanished “noble cause” to the missing eighteen minutes on White House tapes during the Watergate investigations. When asked if the President had at any point had the “noble cause” in his possession, McClellan angrily responded, “This President is a manager and delegater. At no time did he personally touch the noble cause, and we deny categorically that he has any knowledge of or responsibility for its disappearance.”
First reactions to the disclosure have been mixed. Some officials have speculated that a White House cleaning lady may have inadvertently disposed of the “noble cause” while the President was at his Texas ranch for his most recent month-long vacation.
Congressional Republican staffers have announced a prayer breakfast tomorrow morning to pray for the speedy return of the missing cause. Other party loyalists have taken the position that the administration has been so busy trying to dismantle the remnants of the Great Society, shred the United Nations, promote state religion, and manage wars in Iraq and Afghanistan that the “noble cause” has simply been misplaced in the swirl of activity, and will—as one supporter put it—“turn up in somebody’s drawer, and then you’ll wonder what all the fuss was about.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Washington, Sept. 6 –
White House Spokesman Scott McClellan, in this morning’s press conference, admitted “with a great deal of embarrassment,” that the White House has been unable to locate the “noble cause” for which over 1,900 U.S. troops and perhaps 100,000 Iraqi civilians have died.
In response to a question from a reporter with the Hur Herald, McClellan said that White House officials, after a “thorough, extensive, and painstaking search” of administration offices, have found no trace of the missing cause. President Bush has repeatedly cited the “noble cause” as justification for the invasion and continued occupation of Iraq. When asked if the absence of a noble cause would affect the U.S.’s willingness to continue with the bloody, horrendously expensive conflict, McClellan replied that the President saw no reason to stop prosecuting the war while the search for the missing cause goes on.
The missing “noble cause” was last seen, McClellan said, in the office of Deputy Defense Secretary Paul Wolfowitz, but Wolfowitz has disavowed any responsibility for the cause’s disappearance. “It was in Dick Cheney’s office, it was in Don Rumsfeld’s office, it was in Condi Rice’s office,” complained Wolfowitz. “Everybody in the administration had their hands on it at one time or another.”
“We are determined to get to the bottom of this,” declared McClellan, “and the search will continue until the cause is located.” Hopes have been raised on numerous occasions, but as each false sighting is ruled out, prospects for finding the cause—now missing for over three years—have grown increasingly slim.
McClellan read a brief statement from the President in which Mr. Bush said, “If any member of my administration acted wrongly or was involved in the disappearance of the noble cause, I will fire that person immediately, and he or she will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.” In the afternoon, the President issued a clarification, saying, “What I meant was that I would fire anyone who was convicted for the disappearance of the noble cause.”
Reacting to the announcement, media commentators immediately began comparing the vanished “noble cause” to the missing eighteen minutes on White House tapes during the Watergate investigations. When asked if the President had at any point had the “noble cause” in his possession, McClellan angrily responded, “This President is a manager and delegater. At no time did he personally touch the noble cause, and we deny categorically that he has any knowledge of or responsibility for its disappearance.”
First reactions to the disclosure have been mixed. Some officials have speculated that a White House cleaning lady may have inadvertently disposed of the “noble cause” while the President was at his Texas ranch for his most recent month-long vacation.
Congressional Republican staffers have announced a prayer breakfast tomorrow morning to pray for the speedy return of the missing cause. Other party loyalists have taken the position that the administration has been so busy trying to dismantle the remnants of the Great Society, shred the United Nations, promote state religion, and manage wars in Iraq and Afghanistan that the “noble cause” has simply been misplaced in the swirl of activity, and will—as one supporter put it—“turn up in somebody’s drawer, and then you’ll wonder what all the fuss was about.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Thursday, September 01, 2005
“A Winning Issue: The Search Continues”
Democratic headquarters had nearly emptied out, as staffers headed home to the suburbs or their Georgetown digs. Danny and Barb, who had stayed behind to go over the latest polling numbers on possible campaign issues, were the last ones left in the office. They were clearing off their desks when the cleaning lady maneuvered herself through the door, pushing a mop and a bucket in front of her while balancing the vacuum cleaner strapped to her back. “Hope I’m not interruptin’ anything,” she said. “I thought everybody was gone.”
“That’s okay, Juanita, go ahead and work around us,” said Danny. “We’re about to head out of here.”
“Is it still raining?” asked Barb. “I just had my hair done yesterday, and I’m afraid it’s going to get ruined.”
“Still rainin’,” said Juanita. “But not like down in Louisiana. I been trying to reach my sister to make sure she’s okay, but the lines must be down.”
“Gulf Coast oil supplies are going to be cut off for a good while,” said Danny thoughtfully. “The price of heating oil is going to go through the roof this winter!”
“Oh, Lord,” said Juanita. “I had to borrow money from my aunt to pay the heating bills last winter. I been workin’ two jobs, but seems like I just can’t get ahead when I’m only makin’ minimum wage. Hasn’t gone up since 1997!”
“Has it been that long?” said Danny curiously. “Gas and oil prices were only half then what they are now. If you’re not making any more now than you did then, you’ve lost a heck of a lot of ground.”
“I know the pressure you must be under,” sympathized Barb. My husband and I together barely make $100,000 a year, so I share your pain.”
“Why don’t you go on the budget plan?” said Danny. “That’s the way to go. It evens out your payments year ‘round.”
“Doesn’t make any difference if I’m on the budget plan,” said Juanita. “It can be too much for me to pay every month, twelve months a year, or it can be way too much four months a year. Why don’t they just put a lid on fuel prices, and say you can’t gouge people no more?”
“Why don’t you do what we’re going to do?” suggested Barb. “We’re going to put some solar panels on the roof. You can actually get a tax break for that, so it won’t end up costing that much.”
“’That was an important Democratic initiative,” said Danny. “Tax breaks encouraging solar energy. We just don’t get credit for a lot of our good ideas.”
“Huh,” said Juanita. “Didn’t notice I got any tax breaks. Rich folks get all kinds of tax breaks. Then they get their taxes cut. Now they wanta do away with the estate tax, and put more of the load on my back. It just ain’t right.”
“Something else we’re doing you might want to think about,” said Barb helpfully, “is a wood burning stove. Lots of experts are recommending them.”
“In a third-floor walkup in Washington, DC?” asked Juanita incredulously. “You think the landlord’s gonna let me install a wood burnin’ stove in my apartment? And what am I gonna burn? My furniture?”
“I guess that’s not too practical,” admitted Barb. “But how about double-pane windows? We’re putting them in every window in the house. They really cut heat loss.”
“My landlord don’t care nothin’ about double-pane windows,” said Juanita. “He don’t care nothin’ about windows. All he cares about is that rent check, and he better have it in his hand by the first of the month. Tenant’s responsible for the heating bill, so he don’t care how much the bill is.”
“That’s just terrible!” exclaimed Barb. “If I were you, I’d buy my own place, or find an apartment with more responsible management.”
“Yep,” said Juanita, “if you were me, I expect that’s what you’d do.”
“Well, see you tomorrow, Barb,” said Danny. “Maybe, after a good night’s sleep, some issue will jump out at us in the morning. There’s got to be something to show Democrats are champions of the common man.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
“That’s okay, Juanita, go ahead and work around us,” said Danny. “We’re about to head out of here.”
“Is it still raining?” asked Barb. “I just had my hair done yesterday, and I’m afraid it’s going to get ruined.”
“Still rainin’,” said Juanita. “But not like down in Louisiana. I been trying to reach my sister to make sure she’s okay, but the lines must be down.”
“Gulf Coast oil supplies are going to be cut off for a good while,” said Danny thoughtfully. “The price of heating oil is going to go through the roof this winter!”
“Oh, Lord,” said Juanita. “I had to borrow money from my aunt to pay the heating bills last winter. I been workin’ two jobs, but seems like I just can’t get ahead when I’m only makin’ minimum wage. Hasn’t gone up since 1997!”
“Has it been that long?” said Danny curiously. “Gas and oil prices were only half then what they are now. If you’re not making any more now than you did then, you’ve lost a heck of a lot of ground.”
“I know the pressure you must be under,” sympathized Barb. My husband and I together barely make $100,000 a year, so I share your pain.”
“Why don’t you go on the budget plan?” said Danny. “That’s the way to go. It evens out your payments year ‘round.”
“Doesn’t make any difference if I’m on the budget plan,” said Juanita. “It can be too much for me to pay every month, twelve months a year, or it can be way too much four months a year. Why don’t they just put a lid on fuel prices, and say you can’t gouge people no more?”
“Why don’t you do what we’re going to do?” suggested Barb. “We’re going to put some solar panels on the roof. You can actually get a tax break for that, so it won’t end up costing that much.”
“’That was an important Democratic initiative,” said Danny. “Tax breaks encouraging solar energy. We just don’t get credit for a lot of our good ideas.”
“Huh,” said Juanita. “Didn’t notice I got any tax breaks. Rich folks get all kinds of tax breaks. Then they get their taxes cut. Now they wanta do away with the estate tax, and put more of the load on my back. It just ain’t right.”
“Something else we’re doing you might want to think about,” said Barb helpfully, “is a wood burning stove. Lots of experts are recommending them.”
“In a third-floor walkup in Washington, DC?” asked Juanita incredulously. “You think the landlord’s gonna let me install a wood burnin’ stove in my apartment? And what am I gonna burn? My furniture?”
“I guess that’s not too practical,” admitted Barb. “But how about double-pane windows? We’re putting them in every window in the house. They really cut heat loss.”
“My landlord don’t care nothin’ about double-pane windows,” said Juanita. “He don’t care nothin’ about windows. All he cares about is that rent check, and he better have it in his hand by the first of the month. Tenant’s responsible for the heating bill, so he don’t care how much the bill is.”
“That’s just terrible!” exclaimed Barb. “If I were you, I’d buy my own place, or find an apartment with more responsible management.”
“Yep,” said Juanita, “if you were me, I expect that’s what you’d do.”
“Well, see you tomorrow, Barb,” said Danny. “Maybe, after a good night’s sleep, some issue will jump out at us in the morning. There’s got to be something to show Democrats are champions of the common man.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
“Urgent Reply Requested”
Warning: The following letter has been circulating on the Internet. Readers and voters are advised that the offer to share a $28 million deposit and the repeal of the estate tax are both scams.
Dear Friend,
Before I introduce myself, I wish to inform you that this letter is not a hoax mail and I urge you to treat it serious. Firstly, not to cause you embarrassment, I am G. W. Bush, a Politician and Businessman, the personal Advocate for many well to do Americans, Englishmen, and Saudi Arabians, herein after referred to as my base. I ask you please to understand this following event:
On the 21st of April 2001, a supporter and his wife with their three children were involved in an auto crash, all occupants of the vehicle unfortunately lost their lives. My supporter was an oil magnet and philanthropist. Since his demise, I have made several enquiries to locate any of my supporter’s extended relatives: This has proved unsuccessful. After these several unsuccessful attempts, I decided to contact you with this business partnership proposal.
I have contacted you to assist in recovering a huge amount of money left behind by my client before they get confiscated or declared unserviceable by the Finance/Security Company where this huge deposit was lodged. The deceased had a deposit valued presently at $28 million US Dollars and the Company has issued me a notice to provide his next of kin or Beneficiary by Will, or otherwise the account is to be confiscated within the next thirty official working days.
Since I have been unsuccessful in locating the relatives for over 4 Years now, I seek your consent to present you as the next of kin / Will Beneficiary to the deceased so that the proceeds of this account valued at $28 Million US dollars can be paid to you. This will be disbursed or shared in these percentages, 60% to me and 40% to you. I have all necessary legal documents that can be used to back up any claim we may make. All I require is your honest Co-operation, Confidentiality and Trust to enable us to see this transaction through.
Here is an additional part which will no doubt bring you much happiness in your heart. If my proposals for repealing the Estate Tax are enacted, you will not need to worry yourself about whether you can leave the remnants of your portion of $28 Million to your Heirs, at whatever time should unfortunately you decease. The Estate Tax raised an estimated $23.4 Billion US dollars last year for the US government. Repeal of the Estate Tax would benefit primarily those who hold large shares of Stocks and other Securities.
The Estate Tax applies only to very wealthy people, and keeping the Estate Tax could go far toward filling in the predicted Social Security shortfall. But you have my assurance I will not even consider continuing the Estate Tax to help save Social Security, and I have complete confidence you and other members of my base will award my Political Associates and myself with appropriate Campaign Contributions as a token of your gratitude for my efforts on your behalf.
If my offer is of no appeal to you, delete this message and forget I ever contacted you. Do not destroy my career because you do not approve of my proposal. You may not know this but people like myself who have made a tidy sum out of comparable situations run the whole public political sector.
I am not a criminal and what I do, I do not find against good conscience, this may be hard for you to understand, but the dynamics of my politics and avarice dictates that I make this move. Such opportunities only come ones way once in a lifetime. I cannot let this chance pass me by. For once I find myself in total control of my destiny.
I have evaluated the risks and the only risk I have here is from you refusing to work with me or alerting the voting public. I am the only one who knows of this situation, good fortune has blessed you with a name that has planted you into the center of relevance in my life. Lets share the blessing.
Please, provide me the following:
1. Your Full Name
2. Your Telephone Number and Fax Number
3. Your Contact Address.
4. Your Checking and Savings Account Numbers
Your urgent response will be highly anticipated and appreciated. Get in touch with me urgently by E-mail, and remember to support the repeal of the Estate Tax.
Best regards,
Advocate George W. Bush
Cc: Grover Norquist, Karl Rove
© Tony Russell, 2005
Dear Friend,
Before I introduce myself, I wish to inform you that this letter is not a hoax mail and I urge you to treat it serious. Firstly, not to cause you embarrassment, I am G. W. Bush, a Politician and Businessman, the personal Advocate for many well to do Americans, Englishmen, and Saudi Arabians, herein after referred to as my base. I ask you please to understand this following event:
On the 21st of April 2001, a supporter and his wife with their three children were involved in an auto crash, all occupants of the vehicle unfortunately lost their lives. My supporter was an oil magnet and philanthropist. Since his demise, I have made several enquiries to locate any of my supporter’s extended relatives: This has proved unsuccessful. After these several unsuccessful attempts, I decided to contact you with this business partnership proposal.
I have contacted you to assist in recovering a huge amount of money left behind by my client before they get confiscated or declared unserviceable by the Finance/Security Company where this huge deposit was lodged. The deceased had a deposit valued presently at $28 million US Dollars and the Company has issued me a notice to provide his next of kin or Beneficiary by Will, or otherwise the account is to be confiscated within the next thirty official working days.
Since I have been unsuccessful in locating the relatives for over 4 Years now, I seek your consent to present you as the next of kin / Will Beneficiary to the deceased so that the proceeds of this account valued at $28 Million US dollars can be paid to you. This will be disbursed or shared in these percentages, 60% to me and 40% to you. I have all necessary legal documents that can be used to back up any claim we may make. All I require is your honest Co-operation, Confidentiality and Trust to enable us to see this transaction through.
Here is an additional part which will no doubt bring you much happiness in your heart. If my proposals for repealing the Estate Tax are enacted, you will not need to worry yourself about whether you can leave the remnants of your portion of $28 Million to your Heirs, at whatever time should unfortunately you decease. The Estate Tax raised an estimated $23.4 Billion US dollars last year for the US government. Repeal of the Estate Tax would benefit primarily those who hold large shares of Stocks and other Securities.
The Estate Tax applies only to very wealthy people, and keeping the Estate Tax could go far toward filling in the predicted Social Security shortfall. But you have my assurance I will not even consider continuing the Estate Tax to help save Social Security, and I have complete confidence you and other members of my base will award my Political Associates and myself with appropriate Campaign Contributions as a token of your gratitude for my efforts on your behalf.
If my offer is of no appeal to you, delete this message and forget I ever contacted you. Do not destroy my career because you do not approve of my proposal. You may not know this but people like myself who have made a tidy sum out of comparable situations run the whole public political sector.
I am not a criminal and what I do, I do not find against good conscience, this may be hard for you to understand, but the dynamics of my politics and avarice dictates that I make this move. Such opportunities only come ones way once in a lifetime. I cannot let this chance pass me by. For once I find myself in total control of my destiny.
I have evaluated the risks and the only risk I have here is from you refusing to work with me or alerting the voting public. I am the only one who knows of this situation, good fortune has blessed you with a name that has planted you into the center of relevance in my life. Lets share the blessing.
Please, provide me the following:
1. Your Full Name
2. Your Telephone Number and Fax Number
3. Your Contact Address.
4. Your Checking and Savings Account Numbers
Your urgent response will be highly anticipated and appreciated. Get in touch with me urgently by E-mail, and remember to support the repeal of the Estate Tax.
Best regards,
Advocate George W. Bush
Cc: Grover Norquist, Karl Rove
© Tony Russell, 2005
Sunday, August 28, 2005
“God Should Have Finished Carrying Out My Prayer by 10 O’Clock”
“Morning, Reverend! Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“That it is, that it is. ‘God’s in his heaven, all’s right with the world,’ you know.”
“Looks like a busy schedule today, sir.”
“Yes, but the devil finds work for idle hands, eh? Oh, before I forget, I redirected Hurricane Katrina away from our headquarters. Put that on my list of things to mention on today’s broadcast, will you?”
“Certainly, sir. That will make three hurricanes you’ve turned away from headquarters now, won’t it?”
“Let’s see, I think that’s right. Yes. There was Hurricane Gloria in ’85, and then Felix in ’95.”
“Should I put out a press release on that?”
“Why don’t we wait, just to make sure God doesn’t change his mind. Right now it’s headed toward the Gulf Coast, so I think we’re okay. God should have finished carrying out my prayer by—oh, say 10 o’clock—and I can explain how I handled it on my 11 a.m. broadcast.”
[Aide makes note.] "Very good, Reverend. And have you decided what progressive social movement you’d like to focus your attack on today, so I can get the researchers moving?”
“I thought I’d lambaste feminists again. It’s been a while, and with this Cindy Sheehan thing, maybe it’s time to give them another good dose of divine wisdom.”
“Whatever you think is best, sir, but you covered it so thoroughly and memorably last time that, if you don’t mind my saying so, I’m not sure there’s much more to be said. ‘An anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism, and become lesbians’—that pretty much says it all. That’s feminism to a ‘t.’”
“Maybe you’re right. Why don’t I just blame gays, lesbians, the ACLU, and People for the American Way for the September 11 attacks?”
“Reverend Falwell already did that, sir, and you agreed with him. Is there anybody new you would like to blame the attacks on?”
“How about Senator Byrd? He’s been giving the administration a hard time on their invasion of Iraq and their shredding of the Constitution, and he’s up for re-election.”
“Very good, Reverend. And how about today’s hit list? Who would you like to have murdered or assassinated today?”
“I don’t know. After all that flap about my calling for the assassination of Hugo Chavez last Monday on my “700 Club” broadcast, do you think it’s a good idea to go public with the hit list?”
“Maybe not, sir. Maybe if you just suggested again that the State Department should be nuked…?”
“I hate to keep repeating myself. Suppose I just suggest that we nuke Venezuela’s presidential palace?”
“Whatever God wants, Reverend. As you always say, the guiding principal of your life is Proverbs (3:5, 6), ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.’”
“You’re right. Let’s go with the nukes. Say, you don’t look as chipper as usual. Is something wrong?”
“Sorry, sir. It just upsets me when the Lord constantly directs your path, and then people call you a ’crackpot’ or a ‘nutcase.’ I tell them, ‘He happens to be in the middle of the political mainstream in the U.S. right now. This is the way good Christian Republicans think! He’s a vital part of the ‘culture of life’ President Bush praises, and he has enormous influence over this administration. In fact, if he hadn’t thrown his support to Bush rather than McCain, George W. Bush might not have won the South Carolina primary, which was the key to the nomination in 2000.’”
“You certainly let them have it, don’t you!”
“I sure do, Reverend. I tell them, ‘You’re talking about a man who came this close to winning the Republican nomination for President in 1988, a man whose Christian Broadcasting Network is seen in 180 countries and broadcast in 71 languages, a man who founded the Christian Coalition, a man so blessed by God that his Christian broadcasting and charity efforts and diamond mines have given him a net worth between two hundred million and a billion dollars. Now if that’s not proof that God has richly rewarded him, what is?’”
“I’m really touched by your loyalty; bless you. Make a note to have $10 a week added to your paycheck. It’s what God wants.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
“That it is, that it is. ‘God’s in his heaven, all’s right with the world,’ you know.”
“Looks like a busy schedule today, sir.”
“Yes, but the devil finds work for idle hands, eh? Oh, before I forget, I redirected Hurricane Katrina away from our headquarters. Put that on my list of things to mention on today’s broadcast, will you?”
“Certainly, sir. That will make three hurricanes you’ve turned away from headquarters now, won’t it?”
“Let’s see, I think that’s right. Yes. There was Hurricane Gloria in ’85, and then Felix in ’95.”
“Should I put out a press release on that?”
“Why don’t we wait, just to make sure God doesn’t change his mind. Right now it’s headed toward the Gulf Coast, so I think we’re okay. God should have finished carrying out my prayer by—oh, say 10 o’clock—and I can explain how I handled it on my 11 a.m. broadcast.”
[Aide makes note.] "Very good, Reverend. And have you decided what progressive social movement you’d like to focus your attack on today, so I can get the researchers moving?”
“I thought I’d lambaste feminists again. It’s been a while, and with this Cindy Sheehan thing, maybe it’s time to give them another good dose of divine wisdom.”
“Whatever you think is best, sir, but you covered it so thoroughly and memorably last time that, if you don’t mind my saying so, I’m not sure there’s much more to be said. ‘An anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism, and become lesbians’—that pretty much says it all. That’s feminism to a ‘t.’”
“Maybe you’re right. Why don’t I just blame gays, lesbians, the ACLU, and People for the American Way for the September 11 attacks?”
“Reverend Falwell already did that, sir, and you agreed with him. Is there anybody new you would like to blame the attacks on?”
“How about Senator Byrd? He’s been giving the administration a hard time on their invasion of Iraq and their shredding of the Constitution, and he’s up for re-election.”
“Very good, Reverend. And how about today’s hit list? Who would you like to have murdered or assassinated today?”
“I don’t know. After all that flap about my calling for the assassination of Hugo Chavez last Monday on my “700 Club” broadcast, do you think it’s a good idea to go public with the hit list?”
“Maybe not, sir. Maybe if you just suggested again that the State Department should be nuked…?”
“I hate to keep repeating myself. Suppose I just suggest that we nuke Venezuela’s presidential palace?”
“Whatever God wants, Reverend. As you always say, the guiding principal of your life is Proverbs (3:5, 6), ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.’”
“You’re right. Let’s go with the nukes. Say, you don’t look as chipper as usual. Is something wrong?”
“Sorry, sir. It just upsets me when the Lord constantly directs your path, and then people call you a ’crackpot’ or a ‘nutcase.’ I tell them, ‘He happens to be in the middle of the political mainstream in the U.S. right now. This is the way good Christian Republicans think! He’s a vital part of the ‘culture of life’ President Bush praises, and he has enormous influence over this administration. In fact, if he hadn’t thrown his support to Bush rather than McCain, George W. Bush might not have won the South Carolina primary, which was the key to the nomination in 2000.’”
“You certainly let them have it, don’t you!”
“I sure do, Reverend. I tell them, ‘You’re talking about a man who came this close to winning the Republican nomination for President in 1988, a man whose Christian Broadcasting Network is seen in 180 countries and broadcast in 71 languages, a man who founded the Christian Coalition, a man so blessed by God that his Christian broadcasting and charity efforts and diamond mines have given him a net worth between two hundred million and a billion dollars. Now if that’s not proof that God has richly rewarded him, what is?’”
“I’m really touched by your loyalty; bless you. Make a note to have $10 a week added to your paycheck. It’s what God wants.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Thursday, August 18, 2005
“Intelligence Failures”
“Orrin Hatch says Karl Rove is too smart to do something like reveal the identity of a CIA agent just to get even with her husband,” I said to Patty. “Everybody says Rove is a bright guy.”
Patty gave me a pitying look. “Ace,” she said, “just think about it for a minute. The assumption there is that smart people don’t do dumb things.”
“Uh huh,” I said. “Makes sense to me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Just look at history. Nixon was winning re-election by a landslide. Would all those smart guys in his campaign do anything so stupid as to order a burglary of Democratic offices?”
“That’s different,” I said.
“Would Bill Clinton, one of the smartest men ever to be President, do something as unbelievably boneheaded as to have oral sex with an intern in the Oval Office?”
I squirmed a little. “That’s a special case,” I said.
“Would an intelligent man like Gary Hart, the leading contender for the Democratic nomination, dare reporters to follow him and see if he was having an affair?”
“That was a unique situation,” I said.
“Would a brainy lawyer like John Roberts deny he was a member of the Federalist Society, when anybody could get on the Internet and find out that he was on its steering committee?”
“That was just a slip,” I said.
“Would a bright guy like Dwight Eisenhower lie to the world about a spy plane the Soviets had shot down, when they could produce the pilot and show him to be a liar?”
“I’d forgotten about that,” I said. “That was a long time ago.”
“Would a master politician like Lyndon Johnson do something so obviously impossible as to keep expanding the war in Vietnam at the same time he was trying to fund a Great Society?”
“Okay, okay. Enough,” I said. “I get your point.”
“It’s about time,” she said.
“But Orrin Hatch is really an intelligent man,” I said. “He couldn’t be wrong about Karl Rove.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Patty gave me a pitying look. “Ace,” she said, “just think about it for a minute. The assumption there is that smart people don’t do dumb things.”
“Uh huh,” I said. “Makes sense to me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Just look at history. Nixon was winning re-election by a landslide. Would all those smart guys in his campaign do anything so stupid as to order a burglary of Democratic offices?”
“That’s different,” I said.
“Would Bill Clinton, one of the smartest men ever to be President, do something as unbelievably boneheaded as to have oral sex with an intern in the Oval Office?”
I squirmed a little. “That’s a special case,” I said.
“Would an intelligent man like Gary Hart, the leading contender for the Democratic nomination, dare reporters to follow him and see if he was having an affair?”
“That was a unique situation,” I said.
“Would a brainy lawyer like John Roberts deny he was a member of the Federalist Society, when anybody could get on the Internet and find out that he was on its steering committee?”
“That was just a slip,” I said.
“Would a bright guy like Dwight Eisenhower lie to the world about a spy plane the Soviets had shot down, when they could produce the pilot and show him to be a liar?”
“I’d forgotten about that,” I said. “That was a long time ago.”
“Would a master politician like Lyndon Johnson do something so obviously impossible as to keep expanding the war in Vietnam at the same time he was trying to fund a Great Society?”
“Okay, okay. Enough,” I said. “I get your point.”
“It’s about time,” she said.
“But Orrin Hatch is really an intelligent man,” I said. “He couldn’t be wrong about Karl Rove.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
“Coming Up Short in the Longhorn State”
“I don’t get it, Patty,” I said. “Why is the President hiding from Cindy Sheehan?”
“Do you remember when you told me you were going to a lodge meeting, and I found out you were playing poker in Art’s garage?” she answered.
I winced. Some things are better off forgotten. And I don’t have any trouble at all forgetting them. But they’re permanently accessible in Patty’s memory bank. “Vaguely,” I said. “Why?”
“You lied and you hid,” she said. That’s Patty; no beating around the bush. “I had to drag you out from under the Morgans’ SUV. Then you pretended you were just under there to check out an oil leak.”
“What’s your point?” I asked.
“Don’t be so dense, Ace,” she said in exasperation. “George Bush lied to get us into war with Iraq. All the lies have been exposed. Then he claimed that Cindy Sheehan’s son Casey died for a ‘noble cause.’ She’s calling him on it. She says she wants to ask him just exactly what that noble cause was. He can wrap himself in flags and plaster the White House limo with all the ‘Support Our Troops’ stickers he wants, but the bottom line is, there wasn’t any ‘noble cause.’ He’s ducking her because he doesn’t have an answer. What’s he going to say?”
“Well, he needs to say something,” I protested. “It’s embarrassing to have the leader of the free world squirming like a possum caught in the headlights, all because one woman decided to squat beside the road at his ranch.”
“I don’t think it’s embarrassing at all,” she said. “I think it’s enlightening. Here you have all these Democratic politicians who know the whole war was bogus, and they won’t say a word. Then you have all the reporters who know it was bogus, and all they print is White House handouts. They’re all scared to death that Karl Rove and company will label them unpatriotic, so they just keep their mouths shut. And then one woman camps beside the highway in Crawford, says she wants to ask one simple question, and it’s like going behind the scenes in The Wizard of Oz. You find out that the larger-than-life figure everybody was so frightened of is actually a pathetic little man manipulating machinery.”
“He’s a busy guy,” I argued. “He’s got global responsibilities.”
Patty laughed so hard I thought she’d bust her belt. “Ace,” she said, “the man is on a month’s vacation right now. A month. He’s spent almost twenty percent of his presidency on vacation. He’s so seldom on the job that if he were a working man, he’d practically qualify for unemployment. He zipped right past Cindy Sheehan to take a two-hour bicycle ride, that’s how busy he is.”
“Come on, Patty,” I said. “He doesn’t have time to talk to every parent whose son or daughter died in Iraq. If he just spent an hour with each one, he wouldn’t have time to do anything else for the entire next year.”
“It might be a year well spent,” said Patty thoughtfully. “Maybe if he spent an hour with every grieving parent, the lives he’s destroyed would start to get a little more real for him. Maybe he’d lose a little sleep, instead of getting those nine good hours every night. And maybe he’d be less prone to treat people like pawns on a global chessboard.”
“I just don’t understand his thinking,” I said. “The longer he hides, the more he looks like a chicken. Why doesn’t he just walk out, shake her hand, tell her he’s sorry for what happened to her son, and say they’ll just have to disagree on the reasons for the war, blah blah?”
“Ace,” she said, “how long would you have stayed under that SUV?”
© Tony Russell, 2005
“Do you remember when you told me you were going to a lodge meeting, and I found out you were playing poker in Art’s garage?” she answered.
I winced. Some things are better off forgotten. And I don’t have any trouble at all forgetting them. But they’re permanently accessible in Patty’s memory bank. “Vaguely,” I said. “Why?”
“You lied and you hid,” she said. That’s Patty; no beating around the bush. “I had to drag you out from under the Morgans’ SUV. Then you pretended you were just under there to check out an oil leak.”
“What’s your point?” I asked.
“Don’t be so dense, Ace,” she said in exasperation. “George Bush lied to get us into war with Iraq. All the lies have been exposed. Then he claimed that Cindy Sheehan’s son Casey died for a ‘noble cause.’ She’s calling him on it. She says she wants to ask him just exactly what that noble cause was. He can wrap himself in flags and plaster the White House limo with all the ‘Support Our Troops’ stickers he wants, but the bottom line is, there wasn’t any ‘noble cause.’ He’s ducking her because he doesn’t have an answer. What’s he going to say?”
“Well, he needs to say something,” I protested. “It’s embarrassing to have the leader of the free world squirming like a possum caught in the headlights, all because one woman decided to squat beside the road at his ranch.”
“I don’t think it’s embarrassing at all,” she said. “I think it’s enlightening. Here you have all these Democratic politicians who know the whole war was bogus, and they won’t say a word. Then you have all the reporters who know it was bogus, and all they print is White House handouts. They’re all scared to death that Karl Rove and company will label them unpatriotic, so they just keep their mouths shut. And then one woman camps beside the highway in Crawford, says she wants to ask one simple question, and it’s like going behind the scenes in The Wizard of Oz. You find out that the larger-than-life figure everybody was so frightened of is actually a pathetic little man manipulating machinery.”
“He’s a busy guy,” I argued. “He’s got global responsibilities.”
Patty laughed so hard I thought she’d bust her belt. “Ace,” she said, “the man is on a month’s vacation right now. A month. He’s spent almost twenty percent of his presidency on vacation. He’s so seldom on the job that if he were a working man, he’d practically qualify for unemployment. He zipped right past Cindy Sheehan to take a two-hour bicycle ride, that’s how busy he is.”
“Come on, Patty,” I said. “He doesn’t have time to talk to every parent whose son or daughter died in Iraq. If he just spent an hour with each one, he wouldn’t have time to do anything else for the entire next year.”
“It might be a year well spent,” said Patty thoughtfully. “Maybe if he spent an hour with every grieving parent, the lives he’s destroyed would start to get a little more real for him. Maybe he’d lose a little sleep, instead of getting those nine good hours every night. And maybe he’d be less prone to treat people like pawns on a global chessboard.”
“I just don’t understand his thinking,” I said. “The longer he hides, the more he looks like a chicken. Why doesn’t he just walk out, shake her hand, tell her he’s sorry for what happened to her son, and say they’ll just have to disagree on the reasons for the war, blah blah?”
“Ace,” she said, “how long would you have stayed under that SUV?”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Thursday, August 11, 2005
“Uncle Sam’s Black Eyes”
“Have you seen Uncle Sam lately?” I asked.
Denzil looked glum. “I ran into him down in front of the drug store last week,” he said. “Lord, the old fella was a mess.”
“How’s that?” I said.
“Can you believe it?” he said. “The old man had two black eyes. The right one was almost swelled shut.”
“Jeez o Pete! What happened to him?”
“That’s what I wanted to know. I said, ‘Uncle Sam, how did you get those black eyes?’ He just looked at me and said, ‘What black eyes, Sonnyboy?’”
“I’ll bet that threw you for a loop. How do you answer a question like that?”
“Beats the heck out of me. I said, ‘Uncle Sam, have you looked in the polls lately?’ And he said, ‘Sonnyboy, I know my hair is combed straight. I don’t need to look in the polls before I walk out the door.’”
“What’s with the polls?”
“The international polls show that after that illegal invasion of Iraq, with all those phony excuses he made to justify the war, Uncle Sam got a real black eye. The other one got blackened when the prison abuse scandals broke, and it turned out the U.S. was torturing prisoners all over the globe, and jailing people without following any civilized, democratic procedures. While claiming to be waging a war to ‘spread democracy.’”
“And?”
“And the polls show that internationally, people’s opinion of the United States as a country that stands for freedom, truth, justice, and tolerance has dropped like a bowling ball thrown into an elevator shaft. The same polls show, though, that the people of the U.S. still rank themselves #1 in all those categories!”
“That’s quite a disconnect. So Uncle Sam refuses to look at the polls?”
“He just walks around with those black eyes and claims that everything’s hunky-dory. He insists he can see just fine, thank you.”
“Hasn’t anybody tried to talk some sense into him?”
“Aunt Francie tried. She told him before he even got started that he didn’t have any business invading Iraq. He got all huffy and stopped going to visit her. Started making fun of her cooking. Called her potatoes ‘freedom fries.’”
“Boy, that sounds really juvenile. You’d think somebody his age would know better than to act like that. I’ll bet she was ticked off.”
“Wouldn’t you be? I mean, you try to talk some sense into somebody, and they insult you and go ahead with something wrongheaded like that. Shoot, not only wrongheaded. It’s just plain wrong. And it’s been hard on his family—his sons and daughters have been getting killed and losing their arms and legs. And instead of making things better, Iraq is breeding new terrorists, while Iraq itself is going to hell in a handbasket.”
“Do you think he’s unaware of what’s going on, or in denial, or what? He’s always been an independent cuss, sure, but he used to be a really good nation—decent, fair, a good neighbor. Now he’s acting like a tyrant.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just old age. Maybe he’s had a stroke and it’s messed up his brain. All I know is, he’s just not the same Uncle Sam I’ve known all these years. Polls aren’t the be-all and end-all. But if you’re walking around with a pair of puffed-up, bloodshot, black-and-blue eyes, it’s time to admit you’ve got a problem, and think a little bit about what other people are saying.”
“What’s that old line Mrs. Hardman used to preach at us in school? ‘Experience is a dear school, but a fool will learn in no other.’”
“I was thinking more of that Robert Burns poem she used to quote:
Oh wad some power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An’ foolish notion.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Denzil looked glum. “I ran into him down in front of the drug store last week,” he said. “Lord, the old fella was a mess.”
“How’s that?” I said.
“Can you believe it?” he said. “The old man had two black eyes. The right one was almost swelled shut.”
“Jeez o Pete! What happened to him?”
“That’s what I wanted to know. I said, ‘Uncle Sam, how did you get those black eyes?’ He just looked at me and said, ‘What black eyes, Sonnyboy?’”
“I’ll bet that threw you for a loop. How do you answer a question like that?”
“Beats the heck out of me. I said, ‘Uncle Sam, have you looked in the polls lately?’ And he said, ‘Sonnyboy, I know my hair is combed straight. I don’t need to look in the polls before I walk out the door.’”
“What’s with the polls?”
“The international polls show that after that illegal invasion of Iraq, with all those phony excuses he made to justify the war, Uncle Sam got a real black eye. The other one got blackened when the prison abuse scandals broke, and it turned out the U.S. was torturing prisoners all over the globe, and jailing people without following any civilized, democratic procedures. While claiming to be waging a war to ‘spread democracy.’”
“And?”
“And the polls show that internationally, people’s opinion of the United States as a country that stands for freedom, truth, justice, and tolerance has dropped like a bowling ball thrown into an elevator shaft. The same polls show, though, that the people of the U.S. still rank themselves #1 in all those categories!”
“That’s quite a disconnect. So Uncle Sam refuses to look at the polls?”
“He just walks around with those black eyes and claims that everything’s hunky-dory. He insists he can see just fine, thank you.”
“Hasn’t anybody tried to talk some sense into him?”
“Aunt Francie tried. She told him before he even got started that he didn’t have any business invading Iraq. He got all huffy and stopped going to visit her. Started making fun of her cooking. Called her potatoes ‘freedom fries.’”
“Boy, that sounds really juvenile. You’d think somebody his age would know better than to act like that. I’ll bet she was ticked off.”
“Wouldn’t you be? I mean, you try to talk some sense into somebody, and they insult you and go ahead with something wrongheaded like that. Shoot, not only wrongheaded. It’s just plain wrong. And it’s been hard on his family—his sons and daughters have been getting killed and losing their arms and legs. And instead of making things better, Iraq is breeding new terrorists, while Iraq itself is going to hell in a handbasket.”
“Do you think he’s unaware of what’s going on, or in denial, or what? He’s always been an independent cuss, sure, but he used to be a really good nation—decent, fair, a good neighbor. Now he’s acting like a tyrant.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just old age. Maybe he’s had a stroke and it’s messed up his brain. All I know is, he’s just not the same Uncle Sam I’ve known all these years. Polls aren’t the be-all and end-all. But if you’re walking around with a pair of puffed-up, bloodshot, black-and-blue eyes, it’s time to admit you’ve got a problem, and think a little bit about what other people are saying.”
“What’s that old line Mrs. Hardman used to preach at us in school? ‘Experience is a dear school, but a fool will learn in no other.’”
“I was thinking more of that Robert Burns poem she used to quote:
Oh wad some power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An’ foolish notion.”
© Tony Russell, 2005
Monday, August 08, 2005
“You’re Not Going to Believe It”
“Gosh,” I said, glancing around the booth. “You’ve got everything, haven’t you? There’s the Torah, and the Koran, and the Tao Te Ching and the Upanishads! I didn’t realize you carried all those. I thought you’d just stock the King James Version and Good News for Modern Man and maybe the New American Bible—a few things like that.”
“Oh no,” said the handsome clerk. “We’re an international corporation. Our market is worldwide.” He spread his hands over the display case: “You see. Various crucifixes, statues of the Buddha, portraits of saints, thousands of statues of Hindu gods….”
“Well that’s great,” I said. “But I’m really looking for something in a domestic variety.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” he assured me. “We have numerous products of American provenance available right now. I’m sure we can fix you right up.”
“That’s a relief,” I confessed. “It’s so embarrassing to go around without a religion to wear on my sleeve. I feel half-dressed. Whenever I’m out in public, people keep staring at my arm.”
“No problem,” he said with a comforting smile. “I doubt we’ll even have to tailor anything for you. We probably have something that will fit you right off the rack. Let me just get your requirements.” He pulled out a pencil and a notepad.
“You’ve taken me by surprise,” I blurted. “I wasn’t expecting to find something at the first shop I came to.”
He leaned across the counter and, glancing around to be sure he wasn’t overheard, said out of the corner of his mouth, “Look, our holding company has stock in all these places, even the exclusive high-end Christian specialty shops. Don’t feel shy about shopping in a one-stop mart. We carry everything the others have, but we can sell for less with our low overhead.”
The odor of sulphur on his breath was distracting, but his words were convincing. “Great!” I said. “Let me warn you, though, I’m afraid my requirements might be pretty hard to fill.”
“Probably easier than you think,” he countered. “Don’t try to prioritize them; just let ‘er rip.”
“Okay,” I said, and paused for a moment. “I’d like one that preaches loving your enemies to the point of allowing yourself to be killed before doing violence to others, but is comfortable with slaughtering thousands of men, women, and children, most of them innocent of anything except being in a city we’re attacking.”
He made a checkmark on his list. “We have numerous popular models with that feature,” he said. “What else?”
“Uh, I’d like one that preaches simplicity of lifestyle, the danger to your soul of pursuing riches, and the obligation to care for the poor, widows, and orphans, but at the same time glorifies wealth and its trappings, claims huge fortunes are ‘God’s blessing,’ supports political policies that make the rich richer and the poor poorer, and opposes any notion of the common good.”
“Heh heh!” he laughed. “I’ll bet you thought that would be difficult. We’ve got churches all over the country that meet that stipulation—huge churches, thriving churches.”
“Well that’s good news,” I joked. “How about this next item. I’d like one that preaches mercy and the forgiveness of sins, but pushes for longer prison terms and harsher punishments for criminals, eliminates programs aimed at educating and rehabilitating them, and continually expands the list of crimes punishable by death.”
“Can do,” he said. “That’s standard on almost every item we sell. Next?”
I hesitated. “I’d like one that emphasizes the kinship of everyone under the fatherhood of God and asserts that all distinctions of race and class and nation and sex vanish in discipleship …”
“But?”
“But I’d like to worship in an all-white middle class group of English-speaking native born Christians.”
He gave a deep belly laugh. “If you can’t find one of those,” he said, “you couldn’t find a golf ball in a can of beans. Anything else?”
“Yes, there is one more thing. It’s sort of related to the last one. I’d like one which teaches that we are all created in God’s own image, but advocates discrimination against gays and lesbians in both church and civil society.”
“You’ve got it!” he said proudly.
“Wonderful!” I exclaimed. “What do I owe you?”
“You’re not going to believe it when I tell you...,” he began.
© Tony Russell, 2005
“Oh no,” said the handsome clerk. “We’re an international corporation. Our market is worldwide.” He spread his hands over the display case: “You see. Various crucifixes, statues of the Buddha, portraits of saints, thousands of statues of Hindu gods….”
“Well that’s great,” I said. “But I’m really looking for something in a domestic variety.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” he assured me. “We have numerous products of American provenance available right now. I’m sure we can fix you right up.”
“That’s a relief,” I confessed. “It’s so embarrassing to go around without a religion to wear on my sleeve. I feel half-dressed. Whenever I’m out in public, people keep staring at my arm.”
“No problem,” he said with a comforting smile. “I doubt we’ll even have to tailor anything for you. We probably have something that will fit you right off the rack. Let me just get your requirements.” He pulled out a pencil and a notepad.
“You’ve taken me by surprise,” I blurted. “I wasn’t expecting to find something at the first shop I came to.”
He leaned across the counter and, glancing around to be sure he wasn’t overheard, said out of the corner of his mouth, “Look, our holding company has stock in all these places, even the exclusive high-end Christian specialty shops. Don’t feel shy about shopping in a one-stop mart. We carry everything the others have, but we can sell for less with our low overhead.”
The odor of sulphur on his breath was distracting, but his words were convincing. “Great!” I said. “Let me warn you, though, I’m afraid my requirements might be pretty hard to fill.”
“Probably easier than you think,” he countered. “Don’t try to prioritize them; just let ‘er rip.”
“Okay,” I said, and paused for a moment. “I’d like one that preaches loving your enemies to the point of allowing yourself to be killed before doing violence to others, but is comfortable with slaughtering thousands of men, women, and children, most of them innocent of anything except being in a city we’re attacking.”
He made a checkmark on his list. “We have numerous popular models with that feature,” he said. “What else?”
“Uh, I’d like one that preaches simplicity of lifestyle, the danger to your soul of pursuing riches, and the obligation to care for the poor, widows, and orphans, but at the same time glorifies wealth and its trappings, claims huge fortunes are ‘God’s blessing,’ supports political policies that make the rich richer and the poor poorer, and opposes any notion of the common good.”
“Heh heh!” he laughed. “I’ll bet you thought that would be difficult. We’ve got churches all over the country that meet that stipulation—huge churches, thriving churches.”
“Well that’s good news,” I joked. “How about this next item. I’d like one that preaches mercy and the forgiveness of sins, but pushes for longer prison terms and harsher punishments for criminals, eliminates programs aimed at educating and rehabilitating them, and continually expands the list of crimes punishable by death.”
“Can do,” he said. “That’s standard on almost every item we sell. Next?”
I hesitated. “I’d like one that emphasizes the kinship of everyone under the fatherhood of God and asserts that all distinctions of race and class and nation and sex vanish in discipleship …”
“But?”
“But I’d like to worship in an all-white middle class group of English-speaking native born Christians.”
He gave a deep belly laugh. “If you can’t find one of those,” he said, “you couldn’t find a golf ball in a can of beans. Anything else?”
“Yes, there is one more thing. It’s sort of related to the last one. I’d like one which teaches that we are all created in God’s own image, but advocates discrimination against gays and lesbians in both church and civil society.”
“You’ve got it!” he said proudly.
“Wonderful!” I exclaimed. “What do I owe you?”
“You’re not going to believe it when I tell you...,” he began.
© Tony Russell, 2005
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