"A Form of Civic Education"

Our neighbors, the Whittens, have a foreign exchange student staying with them. I saw him walking toward town yesterday morning, and stopped to offer him a ride.

Once he was in the car, there was an awkward pause, as neither of us quite knew how to make conversation with the other. Finally he said, with some hesitation, “I see you people in Virginia have executed a woman. The first in almost a hundred years.”

“Yep,” I said cheerfully. “That’s progress for you.”

“Progress?” he said, frowning.

“Right. Women’s equality,” I explained. “Equal treatment. Virginia has been executing men by the truckload. Women deserve their fair share, and this is a start. Treat both sexes alike. No discrimination.”

He turned and stared at me. “May I inquire what the rationale for such executions might be? Is it simply vengeance?”

“No, no,” I reassured him. “Vengeance would be barbaric. Executions are a form of civic education. We kill people to teach people that killing people is wrong.”

“You kill people to teach people that killing people is wrong?” he asked, as if he had trouble following simple logic.

“You’ve got it,” I replied. I added, “Even though this woman, Teresa Lewis, didn’t pull the trigger herself, she planned the killings, and two other people working for her did the actual shooting. She could have stopped them, but she let the killings take place. They were premeditated and carried out without remorse.”

He paused again. Then he said, “And your governor, Mr. McDonnell. He didn’t execute her personally?”

“Of course not,” I scoffed. “He has subordinates who do the detailed work and carry out his instructions. He could have stayed the execution or changed Teresa Lewis’s punishment to life imprisonment, but he said he couldn’t see any reason not to execute her. He denied the appeals and gave the go-ahead for the execution to take place. It was carefully premeditated, and was carried out without remorse on his part.”

“Mrs. Lewis,” he said. “Did she remain unrepentant for her responsibility in causing the deaths of others?”

“It’s hard to tell about those things,” I admitted. “Other prisoners and some of the prison chaplains said that over the years she was waiting to be killed she comforted other prisoners, prayed for them, sang for them, and was generally an inspiration.”

“I see,” he said. “And Mr. McDonnell. What will the impact of Mrs. Lewis’s execution be on his political career?”

“Oh, I’m sure he and his staff calculated the potential impact thoroughly,” I said. “No question that the execution was a win-win situation for him. It’s bound to have bolstered his support among conservative Christians, Right-to-Lifers, and get-tough-on-crime hard-liners. So I would imagine, all in all, he’s pretty happy with the results.”

“Then executing Mrs. Lewis profited him politically?” he asked.

“Oh, I would think so,” I said.

“What was Mrs. Lewis’s motive for her crime?” he inquired.

“Money,” I said. “She was hoping to profit by collecting $250,000 in life insurance.”

“That seems truly callous,” he murmured, and I agreed.

But something still seemed to be bothering him. “It is my understanding that every year more and more bills are introduced in your legislature to increase the types of offenses for which people can be executed?”

“That’s right,” I said. “That’s how things work in an advanced nation. The legal system is constantly updated to keep pace with social progress.”

“I’m sorry. One more question. Could you explain to me how Mrs. Lewis was put to death?” he asked somewhat numbly.

“In the most humane way possible,” I assured him. “Fourteen corrections officials strapped her down so she couldn’t move. Then someone injected poison into her veins, and people stood around and watched her die.”

He seemed to be having trouble taking it all in, and we rode on silently for a few blocks. “This is where I get off,” he managed, signaling me to stop. “Thank you for your courtesy in providing me with transportation, as well as for a most memorable conversation.”

“No problem,” I responded, not wanting to make too much of it. I knew foreigners are often overwhelmed by Americans’ kindness and generosity. As I told Patty afterward, “He speaks surprisingly good English, and he seems pretty well informed. But he doesn’t have a clue about how a civilized country operates.”

For an instant, an expression flickered across Patty’s face. The one that hurts--compassion. “Oh, Ace,” she began, “sometimes you’re so....” Then she stopped, turned, and walked out of the kitchen without finishing.

I love that woman.

© Tony Russell, 2010

"All Available Means of Persuasion"

I had a chance yesterday to talk with an old buddy of mine, Vern Gosworth, who works for a public relations firm. We met for lunch at Eppie’s. Vern hemmed and hawed and finally ordered the Wednesday special, hot tamales, but I stuck with the jerk chicken.

While we were sitting at the table, waiting for our names to be called, I asked him about the news this week that a Washington lobbying group hired by a coal industry consortium, the American Coalition for Clean Coal Electricity (ACCCE), had sent forged letters opposing clean air legislation to several members of Congress.

The letters were supposedly from organizations such as the NAACP and the American Association of University Women, but were actually written on fake letterheads.

“Boy, coal companies must be really angry that somebody they hired would try to deceive members of Congress into voting against the clean energy bill,” I said.

“Oh, absolutely,” said Vern. “They’ve issued a statement that they have ‘always maintained high ethical and professional standards,’ but then something like this happens and makes people wonder. I couldn’t blame them if they were furious.”

“Why are they so opposed to the clean energy bill?” I wondered.

“Are you kidding? It could end up costing them billions. Coal is the dirtiest energy out there. They shoveled out almost $11.8 million lobbying against this clean energy bill in the past three months, so you know it’s a huge issue for them.”

“If it’s that important, and they spent that kind of dough, they must have hired the best,” I reflected.

“For sure,” said Vern. “My outfit wanted the job, but we didn’t stand a chance with the Hawthorn Group in the hunt.”

“I think I know what you were up against,” I sympathized. “I was just checking them out on line. Their website says that they approach an ‘advocacy challenge’ with ‘all available means of persuasion.’ They must mean it; they run the phrase three times in three paragraphs on their home page. Your company probably didn’t stand a chance against one that was willing to use ‘all available means of persuasion.’ I hate to ask, but when they say ‘all available means of persuasion,’ do you suppose they mean ‘all available means of persuasion’?”

“You’re reading too much into that, Ace. What they really mean is ‘all available means of persuasion that are legal, ethical, responsible, and morally exemplary.’ They just keep it short because spelling that out would be too cumbersome,” Vern said.

““You’re probably right, I expect. But don’t you think there’s a danger that somebody reading their mission statement would think the Hawthorn Group is willing to do whatever it takes to sell whatever somebody is paying them to pitch?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” said Vern. “It’s already a given that these campaigns will operate on the highest moral and ethical plane; that’s the only way these companies will do business.”

“I see,” I nodded. “But if coal companies are shelling out millions of dollars to oppose the clean energy bill, don’t you thing they would spend some time with their PR firm laying out some guidelines for what they want, and then review ideas the firm comes up with before they okay them?”

“Oh heck no,” said Vern. “That’s not the way the big boys do it, Ace. It’s carte blanche. They just give us a budget, tell us to come up with something, and then forget about it. They trust us to do quality work.”

“And this unnamed employee who created the phony letters--is that the way these things normally operate? I mean, you’ve got a top-drawer client spending huge sums of money, and some employee, all on his own, without even talking with anybody else in the firm, without clearing his idea with some kind of boss or superior, takes it on himself to forge letters to members of Congress?”

“Incredible, isn’t it, Ace? We’ve got so much freedom in the PR business you wouldn’t believe it. We never clear anything with anybody before we put it into effect.”

“Wow!” I exclaimed, “not even something that important, involving so much money and the Federal government? The level of trust in your business is fantastic!.”

“Well,” he said modestly, “we’ve earned that level of confidence. That’s what they pay us for.”

“I was looking at the Bonner & Associates website too,” I went on. “They say that they have ‘a 25 year track record of extensive, winning experience in all levels of government,’ with ‘hands-on experience in winning tough fights.’”

“Uh huh,” Vern said.”

“So evidently this is a veteran outfit that doesn’t mind mixing it up if you pay them enough,” I surmised.

“Oh, I’d definitely say so,” agreed Vern.

“And yet something like this happened,” I pointed out. “You have a top PR firm, and a savvy insider firm that traffics in using grassroots organizations, both promoting themselves as delivering wins, and yet somehow you end up with a dirty, crooked stunt like this.”

“Ace, these things happen,” said Vern. “It was all the work of one person, a rogue temporary employee far down the food chain. Nobody higher up had any clue what that person was thinking of, squirreled away in some lonely cubbyhole. Now that it’s come to light, everybody’s embarrassed.”

“Do you suppose the employee was ‘temporary’ before news of the forgeries broke?”

“I couldn’t speculate on that, Ace.”

“It’s too bad the forgeries came to light after the vote on the bill, since a couple of congresspeople who got the letters actually voted against the clean energy bill.”

“The timing was unfortunate,” he agreed.

“The odd thing is that ACCCE, the consortium of coal companies, says that Bonner and Associates told them about the forgeries before the bill was voted on and before the news came out in the papers. They say that Bonner told them it had contacted the organizations whose names they used on the forged letters, as well as the congressional offices who got the letters, to clear everything up. Now the coal consortium is just shocked to learn that didn’t actually happen.”

“There you go. Somebody at Bonner dropped the ball. Probably got too busy in the hurly-burly of the campaign to follow up on that piece,” said Vern.

“It looks as if somebody at the coal consortium dropped the same ball,” I pointed out. “You wonder why they didn’t address the matter themselves, instead of leaving it to Bonner. And once they’d passed the buck--or bucks--you’d think they’d want to keep on top of the potential scandal, making sure it was taken care of, given their concern to see that “everyone involved in the public policy dialogue lives up to the highest ethical standards.”

“Hindsight is 20-20, Ace.”

“Hindsight is 11.8 million, Vern.”

© Tony Russell, 2009

"Not a Pretty Sight"

Lead sentence in CNN article: “The more Americans go to church, the more likely they are to support the torture of suspected terrorists, according to a new survey.”

Third paragraph: “White evangelical Protestants were the religious group most likely to say torture is often or sometimes justified--more than six in 10 supported it. People unaffiliated with any religious organization were least likely to back it.”

Patty and I were sitting in Wendy’s, quietly working our way through our combo meals. The ladies behind us were working their way through their friends.

“What kind of Christian does she think she is?” scoffed one. “Supporting terrorists by saying we shouldn’t torture them.”

“I know,” said another. “I always thought better of her than that.”

“She may have a lot of people fooled with that sweet smile and soft voice,” said the first, “but God knows what’s in her heart, and you can bet it’s not a pretty sight.”

“She actually pointed at her ‘What Would Jesus Do?”’ wristlet when she was talking to Wilma and told her that she didn’t believe Jesus would waterboard someone, or strip him naked and sic a dog on him,” tossed in a third. “Can you believe it?”

“I heard that too,” said a fourth. “Wilma told me she couldn’t believe her ears. She was just shocked.”

“Not as much as those thugs at Guantanamo when we hooked them up to electrodes,” joked the second woman.

“This isn’t a laughing matter, Gladys,” one of them reprimanded her. “We’re talking about someone whose patriotism is so shaky her immortal soul is in danger.”

“I tried to talk some faith into her,” said the third woman. “Jane,” I said, “Jesus never said a word forbidding torture. Search the New Testament from beginning to end, and he never says a word against torturing your enemies.”

“You’re right, of course,” said the first woman. “I hope that gave her something to think about.”

“To tell the truth, she didn’t think much about it at all,” said the third woman. “She just quoted Matthew, chapter 5, from the Sermon on the Mount. ‘Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. ’ She claimed that Jesus was very clear about how we were supposed to treat our enemies, and torture sure didn’t fit in the picture Jesus was drawing.”

There was a pause. Patty and I looked at each other, ears perked, waiting.

Finally, the first woman sighed. “I hate to say it,” she said, “but sometimes Jesus could be awfully unrealistic.”

“I know what you mean,” said the second woman. “Those are great ideals, but we live in the real world, with suicide bombers and people flying planes into buildings.”

“Right,” said the third woman, “Jesus did have enemies, you know, and he didn’t torture them or kill them. But look what happened to him.”

I glanced around. They were all absentmindedly fingering their crosses while they gave that some thought.

“My gosh, look at the time!” said the first woman suddenly. “We’re going to be late for prayer meeting if we don’t get a move on.”

© Tony Russell, May 12, 2009

"Obama's Plan to Raise Taxes on Wealthy Meets Fierce Opposition"

President Obama’s plan to raise taxes on the wealthiest 5 percent while cutting taxes for the remaining 95 percent has raised fierce opposition nationwide. Protests against the proposals are scheduled later in the month in major metropolitan areas coast to coast. Organizers expect the largest turnout since the futile demonstrations of 2003 against a U.S. invasion of Iraq. Officials in New York and Los Angeles both anticipate turnouts of more than a million demonstrators.

Rep. David Camp of Michigan, the top Republican on the Ways and Means Committee, said that with unemployment exceeding 10 percent in many parts of the country, numerous former workers will have time on their hands to show their opposition to the increase. “As CEOs slash workforces to maintain their company’s bottom line, that frees up huge numbers of people to show their support for maintaining the status quo,” he said.

Evan Rouse, a teacher whose contract will not be renewed for next year because of budget cuts, was among many local citizens protesting the tax increase for the rich. “Those at the top need our help,” said Rouse. “I feel their pain.” Facing the possibility of losing his health insurance for his family of four, and of having his mortgage foreclosed, Rouse remained upbeat in his support of the well-to-do. “I just think it’s unfair to put people in a position where they might have to rethink the purchase of a Rolex or downsize their yacht,” he said.

Bibi Weinhart, a local socialite, appreciates the outpouring of support from across the community.

“It’s so heartening to see the housekeeping staff at hospitals and universities, Hispanic landscape workers, retail clerks, fast food servers--just the whole range of little people who make our lives easier--come to our defense,” she declared. “I’m giving our nanny and housekeeper an extra hour for lunch to attend the local rally.” “They can make it up on the weekend,” she added. “They understand that my friends and I regularly donate our cocktail dresses and sportswear to thrift stores once we’ve worn them a few times. We have a social conscience; we’re not ogres.”

“It’s not just the increase in the tax rate that’s so unfair,” contends local real estate developer Max Wilmoth. “The president also wants to keep us from using tax havens to avoid paying taxes. That’s a double whammy. My friends and I salt away part of our capital gains on a little tropical island, thinking we can hide it from the IRS, and then along comes this Obama fellow, breaking an unspoken compact between the rich and our government. Wealth has its privileges, and avoiding taxes is one of them.”

“It’s not the principle,” he added, “it’s the money of the thing.”

Wilmoth knows what he’s talking about. The top tax rate people pay for money they earned at work is 35 percent. But the top rate for income from dividends and capital gains is only 15 percent. So the super-rich are taxed a much lower percentage on much of their income than their cooks and chauffeurs pay on their earnings.

“That’s as it should be,” says Wilmoth. “ It’s all about job creation. It’s how we can afford so much help. Obama is trying to take us back to the fifties, when people in the top income bracket paid more than 50% of their income in taxes. Who would want to go back to those days?”

Rouse, the math teacher, agreed. “Just think, if we had kept those fifties tax rates, we could have afforded universal health care, maintained the levies in New Orleans, kept from robbing the Social Security system, cleaned up the environment, and invested in education,” he said. “It’s frightening even to contemplate. The preference of every ordinary voter I know is to line the pockets of the rich instead of squandering money on those kinds of programs. Where are this administration’s priorities? I’m organizing the staff of my school. We’ll show up en masse to oppose Obama’s budget.”

“I never imagined he’d actually follow through on his campaign pledges,” added Rouse. “He would never have been elected if people had understood he was serious about this kind of change.”

Don Hagerman, an investment banker, joined in praise of the usually-silent Americans who are flocking to the defense of the elite. “Who knew there would be this overwhelming popular support for people in our tax bracket?” he asked. “We thought we were dependent on thousands of lobbyists and hundreds of millions of dollars in political donations to make our case. But it turns out the voice of the people is more powerful than the cries of cash, and it’s making itself heard.”

The cause of the rich is being aided by Republicans in Congress, who are nearly unanimous in their opposition to Mr. Obama’s proposals. “ When we cut taxes for the rich and shifted the burden of the budget to the poor and the middle class, that was intended to help everyone; when Obama wants to cut taxes for the lowest 95%, that’s class warfare!” declared Eric Cantor, R-VA, the Minority House Whip.

“President Bush, over a period of eight years, fought for a series of tax cuts for the wealthy, tax cuts that helped forge the economy we have today,” Cantor continued. “How quickly people forget.”

© Tony Russell, 2009

"Too Little to Fail"

I had only been asleep for two hours before I was awakened by the ringing phone. As a veteran of eight years on night shift, I was used to these interruptions. Blearily, I rolled over and glanced at the caller ID. The digital readout showed “Fannie Mae,“ my mortgage holder. Uh oh. I snatched it up.

“Hello,” I croaked.

“Hello, may I speak to Mr. O’Doyle, please?”

“Speaking.”

“Mr. O’Doyle, I’m calling on behalf of Fannie Mae to let you know that we have yet to receive your mortgage payment for this month. As I’m sure you’re aware, this payment is due on the fifth of every month, and your payment is currently two weeks late.”

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I made a few bad investments down at the grocery store. I thought sure that those four boxes of macaroni and cheese would last us all week, but there I was on Friday, buying Ramen noodles.”

“Excuses aside, when can we expect to receive payment, Mr. O’Doyle?” he demanded.

“Just be patient,” I said, “help is on the way. I saw on television last night that Uncle Sam has realized that folks like me are having trouble paying our mortgages, and he’s stepping in to assist us. I believe the number I heard was $200 billion, so that ought to square us for a while, right? I know that this will increase our tax bill down the road, but Uncle Sam understands that these are tough times, and he’s willing to work things out.”

“Mr. O’Doyle, you seem to have misunderstood,” he said. “The $200 billion in government relief is to rescue Fannie Mae from our bad debts, not you from yours.”

“What? That can’t be right! They’re the same debts, aren’t they?” I asked. “I mean, you guys are struggling because you made idiotic decisions on mortgages like mine. There’s no way I should have been approved for a home loan worth six times my annual salary to begin with. But here I am, stuck with it, and a flexible mortgage rate that keeps going up. Luckily, Uncle Sam knows that we make bad decisions from time to time. He’s willing to step in so we aren’t forced to suffer from our bad decisions. Despite the fact that you never should have issued the mortgages, you still get your money. Are you telling me that when I, as a taxpayer, am giving you the money to cover your losses on my bad mortgage, you still expect me to make good on that same debt?”

“Ummm, yes, well the government is bailing us out, not you,” he explained again.

“So even though the blame lies primarily with your policies, we’re expected to pay not once, but twice? And even though we’re saving you from your own folly with our tax dollars, you figure you deserve to be paid not only the money owed to you, but $200 billion tax dollars on top of it?” I demanded, my voice rising.

“Well, sir, you have to realize that not everyone who owes us money will, in fact, be able to pay it,” he reasoned. “The bailout is designed to cover our losses in those instances.”

“I bet they’d be able to pay it if the government gave them the money,” I said. “And furthermore, if the debt has been covered, shouldn’t they be off the hook for it? You guys foreclosed on my neighbor, Lou, two months ago, and his family has been living in a camper behind his mother’s house ever since. Now that his debt has been covered, where can he pick up his house keys?”

“I’m afraid the bailout doesn’t apply to individual cases,” he said. “Rather, it applies to our institutional debt. The government has decided that we’re ‘too big to fail.’ You aren’t.”

“I’m willing to bet that come tax time, this bailout will be individualized plenty,” I said. “Nobody’s too little to qualify on April 15.”

© Micah Russell, 2008

"You Can Actually See Russia from Here"

John McCain and other Republicans are defending his choice for the vice presidency against charges that she is totally unqualified. Mrs. Palin herself vouched for her extensive foreign policy credentials, saying she has lived next door to Russia for years. As she told ABC News, "They're our next-door neighbors and you can actually see Russia from land here in Alaska, from an island in Alaska."

I was explaining this to Patty. “I don’t understand how people can call her unqualified,” I said. “Look how she answered her critics on the foreign policy issue.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Patty. “People are so quick to ignore the importance of experience like that. And her thinking opens up all kinds of possibilities. Take you, for instance. You lived in Detroit for a couple of years when you were growing up. That’s just a stone’s throw from Canada. I’m sure you’re qualified to be vice president too.”

“I don’t know about that,” I began modestly. “It’s just Canada. They all spend their winter vacations in Florida anyway. But what about that trip we took to Houston in 1974 to watch the Super Bowl? We were practically in Mexico.”

“A weekend might not be long enough to become an expert,” said Patty. “But think about this. The hospital is only ten minutes from our door, and we’ve lived here for over twenty years. Maybe I should set up shop as a cardiologist. I’m probably qualified to deliver babies and perform appendectomies, too.”

“What makes you think that?” I asked. “You’re not qualified to practice medicine. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of!”

“Just following her logic,” Patty said. “We’re only a few miles from the university as well. You can actually hear the chapel bells when the wind is blowing this way. That should be all I need to edit an economics journal. Or give a lecture on Elizabethan drama. Or to head up a biochemistry research lab.”

“Come on, Patty,” I said. “Quit joking about stuff like that. You’re talking about important jobs where you really have to know what you’re doing--doctors and economists and biochemists and literary scholars and what not.”

“Right,” she said. “Whereas, if she and McCain are elected, and anything should happen to him--God forbid--, she has her finger on the nuclear red button, and the fate of the world is in her hands. She’s in charge of dealing with Iraq, Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, China, Cuba, Venezuela, and every other nation in the world. No doubt living across the Bering Strait from Russia has more than prepared her. I imagine she has a grand global strategy all worked out.”

“There’s probably not much chance she’ll be placed in that position,” I said hesitantly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Patty responded. “Eight vice-presidents have stepped in so far when the president died, and Gerald Ford took over when Nixon resigned. That’s 9 out of 43. When you consider that McCain, if elected, will be the oldest man ever to take the office, has a history of melanoma and a medical record 1,200 pages long, you’ve got to consider the odds that she’ll replace him are pretty good.”

“Ouch,” I said. “I’m developing a headache just thinking about it.”

Patty whipped out a pen and tore a piece of paper from a notebook. “Here,” she said, “let me prescribe something for that.”

She handed me the note. In capital letters she had printed “VOTE.”

© Tony Russell, 2008

"Only God Knew"

Once upon a time, before the current administration, only God knew what your government now knows--your shame, your guilt, your weakness, your doubt, your beliefs, your political bent:

how you borrowed money from your sister again to keep from losing your home;

how you omitted your kidney problem from the pre-existing conditions you listed on your insurance application;

how you failed to report thousands in tips on your income tax return;

how you exchange romantic e-mails with a man who isn’t your husband;

how you and a dozen others held a candlelight vigil, trying to prevent the invasion of Iraq;

how you saved more than 70% by faxing your prescription to Canada;

how your auto insurance was canceled when you got a second speeding ticket;

how your family has a history of schizophrenia;

how you tried to form a union at the plant, before they closed down and moved over to Taiwan;

how you think “The Emperor’s New Clothes” is a paradigm for our time;

how you took those earrings you always wanted when your aunt was placed in a nursing home;

how you used your credit card to donate to MoveOn.org;

how you had a crush on someone of the same sex when you were a high school sophomore;

how your purchases of whiskey and vodka have been on the rise;

how you squandered your house payment on lottery tickets;

how you unhooked the odometer on your pickup;

how you were molested by your uncle when you were eight;

how you thank your Higher Power that your brain still works after all the coke you’ve snorted up your nose;

how the police have responded to three domestic disturbance calls at your house within the past six months;

how your taste in library books runs toward left-wing politics;

how you despise televangelists for worshipping success;

how you have prescriptions for painkillers from four different doctors;

how you downloaded photos of women wearing latex boots and fishnet tops;

how you donated fifty bucks to Ron Paul’s campaign;

how your daughter was caught shoplifting at the mall;

how you had two abortions before you turned 21;

how you lie to your wife to conceal your gambling addiction;

how you printed out instructions on anal sex;

how you keep a folder for “election fraud” on your hard drive;

how you tried to commit suicide by cutting your wrists;

how your herpes infection dates back to your high school years;

how you’re outraged that our government tortures;

how you support the right of gays and lesbians to teach, preach, marry, and be ordinary;

how you maintain a small arsenal of automatic and semi-automatic firearms, along with thousands of rounds of ammunition;

how you’ve upped your contributions to Emily’s List, the ACLU, Amnesty International, and the Environmental Defense Fund;

how you hide a baggie of grass in a shoebox in your closet;

how you check out the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue online when you get bored;

how you have Googlle Alert send you articles on impeachment;

how your orders from NetFlix are heavily weighted toward “R” ratings;

how you harbor a persistent fear that the cancer that killed your sister is lurking in your cells, waiting to claim you as well;

how you have two books overdue, both on global warming;

how you ranted that the Patriot Act spits on the nation’s spirit;

how you spend your paycheck, every transaction on your credit card and in your bank account laid as bare as Judgment Day;

how your psychiatrist keeps tweaking your medication, trying to allay your depression;

how your calls to your AA sponsor show increasing desperation;

how what terrifies you is the War on Terror;

how your doctor is treating you for impotence, insomnia, high blood pressure, and possible paranoia.

© Tony Russell, 2008