Heading West — Day Three

« Photos from Day Three »

Rainy Again
Written @ 11:42 CST | Thursday 13-Jul-06 | Gothenberg, NE

We hit a small spot of rain, but it’s nothing like day one. We’re 36 miles from North Platte, NE, which will be our first stop of the day. Jeepy needs gas and beagle needs walkies.

I’ve been sleeping since Lincoln. Nebraska is flat and it is green and has some trees and that’s about it. The road is flat and straight and goes on and on. We’re about halfway to Cheyenne.

I’ve started some lesson planning for the first week of school, but it’s a bit hard to do, since I don’t know my schedule of classes or the curriculum. I know I want the first week to be relaxed and all about getting to know each other and learning the procedures and my expectations. So I’ll leave it at that and plan for activities that do that. I’ll ease into the language arts stuff during week two, if I can.

Rest Stop
Written @ 13:00 CST/12:00 MST | Thursday 13-Jul-06 | Sutherland, NE

After stopping at a Mirastar gas station (which turns out to be some sort of weird partnership between Texaco and Wal-Mart) in North Platte, NE, we made a brief lunch stop at Sonic then drove 20 miles west to a rest area so that beagles could do beagle things. They had a designated pet area with “pooch plugs,” which were fake fire hydrants. Bayley added his own mark to the vicinity of the plug. When Unca David came out of the restroom, I went inside while he held the beagle. When I came out, Bayley was waiting and began wiggling and howling like I had been gone for three years. The whole rest area stopped and looked at the commotion.

We’re back on I-80, with about 195 miles left today. Nebraska is pretty much what I expected … flat, farms, scrubby trees, low barren hills, never-ending. We just passed into Keith County and the Mountain Time Zone, so we gained an hour, which will help. Cheyenne is about three-and-a-half hours away, so we should be at the hotel by 16:00 Wyoming time.

At the rest area, I picked up three out of the plethora of ubiquitous tourist brochures (rack cards) which are in piles in places up and down the interstate highway system. One was for Father Flanagan’s Boys Town, where it is noted that, in addition to Father Flanagan’s house, the museum, the Garden of the Bible, Father’s grave and the chapel, you can see the “World’s Largest Ball of Stamps” in the Leon Myers Stamp Center, which includes exhibits on the history of postage stamps, a collector’s corner and, of course, the four-cent Father Flanagan Stamp. Don’t forget the gift shop and cafe on your way out and admission is free.

Let’s be clear, I’m not disparaging Boys Town, but the touristy aspects thereof. Just hope the proceeds go to make things better for the boys.

Coming up is Bridgeport, NE, where you can exit I-80 and venture 34 miles north to Alliance. The claim to fame of Alliance is … Carhenge, a replica of Stonehenge created from vintage automobiles from the 50s and 60s. The cars are “planted trunk down and rise 15 to 17 feet … [and] are approximately 7 feet wide; the same size as the standings [sic] stones of Stonehenge … all 38 of the majors [sic] stones are cleverly represented at Carhenge.”

Carhenge is enthusiastically recommended by someone from Farmington, MN, who is quoted on the rack card as saying, “This place is incredible, I love it! We went 100 miles out of the way to see Carhenge and it was worth every mile and moan and groan from my children.”

We decided not to detour 68 miles out of our way to see it.

I went to sleep shortly after passing Lincoln, where I apparently missed the International Quilt Study Center at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. The mission of said center is “to study, to collect, to preserve, and to exhibit quilts.” Pretty straightforward.

There are more than 1,650 quilts in the center, including the largest known collection of Amish and Mennonite quilts. Here’s some grad school language for ya: “… quilts are studied using an interdisciplinary approach in which the tradition is examined in its historical, social, artistic, technical, and spiritual environments. The … Department of Textiles, Clothing and Design, College of Education and Human Sciences, offers masters degree programs for students interested in analyzing the complex ways in which gender, class, ethnicity, aesthetics, politics, religion and technology find expression in the textile arts, especially quiltmaking traditions.”

Wow. Why doesn’t the University of Michigan School of Education have that? They suck.

Back to planning. I need to create a fun student information survey for the kids to work on in the first ten minutes of the first class.

Wyoming
Written @ 14:11 MST | Thursday 13-Jul-06 | Pinebluff, WY

We’ve reached the Wyoming border and are just a mere 36 miles from our stop. We’ll be at the hotel by 15:00 mountain time. Thank goodness. Also, we’re just passing the halfway point of the trip: 1,176 miles. Thank goodness, part II. We’re also out of Nebraska. Thank goodness, part III.

As we entered the panhandle of Nebraska and the I-76 split which heads for Denver, the land dramatically changed. No longer the rolling green farmland with trees, it has become the browner, flatter, wider open vistas of the true American west. You can see oil well pumping units dotting the landscape and the area is dotted with ranches, not farms. Union Pacific trains pass each other on double tracks, hauling cross-continent freight. It’s 93 degrees outside under a bright sun, with just a few high puffy clouds. Traffic has also thinned out; there aren’t as many cars on the road, leaving the interstate mostly to the long-haul truckers.

Watching the trucks and the trains makes you realize just how dependent on fossil fuels this country really is. Our entire lives are on those trains and trucks. 12,000 pounds of my own life is in a truck somewhere on this road. Everything we need (especially food) comes from far away. If that infrastructure of rail and road and train and truck is ever disrupted or destroyed, we’d be in deep doo-doo. We would see a retreat back to a civilization like it existed before the Civil War. Not that I’m an apocalyptic thinker, I’m just sayin’. We’re dependent on a thin thread that seems rather tenuous in the big picture of things.

I’ve been working up the first week’s lesson plans, creating two student surveys and an interview sheet, and working on the class syllabus. Yes, I plan to give seventh graders a syllabus. I want the expectations and what we’re doing clearly laid out. In the dim recesses of my age-addled memory, I seem to remember that a few of my junior high teachers gave them out and I know my high school teachers did. So, these kids should get used to them.

Because of my natural tendency to be easy-going and laid-back, the first week will be critical in terms of setting limits and expectations and procedures. It will make or break my entire first year as a teacher. Research indicates that there should be no more than 3-5 rules, and it’s also preferable if the students create and sign off on the rules themselves. I’ll think about that one. It worked well last year with 22 rather exceptional second graders; these 125 seventh graders I’m going to meet in less than three weeks are an unknown quantity. I like the three F’s: firm, fair, fun. The three KISses, too: Keep it simple, keep it safe, keep it sane.

I better get back to it. We’re 11 miles from the hotel.

Rest Stop
Written @ 15:55 MST | Thursday 13-Jul-06 | Cheyenne, WY

We arrived at the hotel an hour ago and unloaded the car. The dog had a long drink of water and a treat and watched the proceedings. He then had a scratch of the ear and settled down onto my bed. He is now loudly snoring away, a totally worn-out dog.

Cheyenne looks very small, smaller than Ann Arbor. I-80 skirts it on the south and looks down on it, so you get a pretty good view. I continue to be impressed by the speedy checkin/checkout and service at LaQuinta. The rooms have been good, the wireless internet connections great and there’s been no fuss at all about the dog or anything else.

The pool is inviting, since it’s over 90 degrees here, but it’s full of women and kids at the moment. I’ll have to wait, probably ‘til dinnertime to get some water therapy.

We’re not sure what we’ll do for dinner, but we need a nap first.

Later, y’all.

Heading West — Day Two

« Photos from Day Two »

Field of Opportunity
Written @ 12:44 CST | Wednesday 12-Jul-06 | West Des Moines, IA

After getting up at 08:00 and having a little breakfast and loading the car, we left Davenport this morning at 09:55 and we’re now just west of Des Moines, which we didn’t really see because I-80 runs around the northern and western edges. What we did see reminded me of Kansas City and Oklahoma City.

Iowa is just gently rolling hills. It’s flat, but not West Texas flat. The best thing about is that the rest stops on I-80 have wireless internet access. Iowa rocks! We’re stopping at the next one to check it out.

Omaha is about 110 miles or so away and then we’ll stop and get rested up for tomorrow’s nastiness: 450 miles of Nebraska. Right now, David has driven the whole way again and says he’s fine, and the dog is sacked out once again in the back seat.

We’re just passing touristy stuff: signs announce DeSoto, John Wayne’s birthplace, and the covered bridges of Madison County. The road is reminding me of I-44, the Turner Turnpike, between Oklahoma City and Tulsa.

And that’s about as exciting as this day gets, folks. Go ahead and yawn, you won’t offend me. I’m pretty bored too. It’s time to pull out the books on those ever-important first weeks of school, since 125 seventh graders will be looking at me for instruction in a mere 18 days, 18 hours, 58 minutes and 14 seconds. Yow.

We just crossed into Madison County. No, I’ve never read the book. I don’t see any bridges, but I do see a heckuva lotta corn. Omaha is 108 miles away.

The wireless internet connections are FABULOUS! Sitting in a cornfield on the side of I-80, updating the blog. Technogeek heaven!

I love Iowa!

Later at the Hotel
Written @ 01:30 CST | Thursday 13-Jul-06 | Omaha, NE

We arrived safely in Omaha, checked into the hotel, then went in search of dinner. We gassed up the Jeep and spotted a Sonic, which made me very happy. A quick trip over to the drive in, then back to the hotel for dinner was followed by a five-hour nap. It was lovely. I was very tired.

The beagle is refusing his food, although he did accept a tater tot. After my nap, I took him out for walkies and a sniff at the night air. When we came back in, we followed the usual routine of getting a treat, making him wait and then saying, “Go!” He slowly got up, went to the treat and sniffed it and walked away.

It was earth-shaking. The beagle refusing a treat?? Holy cow, what’s next, frogs from the sky?

I went to get some ice and a Coke and when I came back, the beagle had tried to bury the treat under the desk before giving up and eating it. He is very pointedly refusing the food in his bowl.

After updating Flickr, I took my bath and am now in bed. Tomorrow will be the trying day, the one I’ve dreaded, 488 miles of Nebraska. We’ll end up in Cheyenne Thursday night; the hotel has an outdoor pool, which this one does not, so I can get in some more water therapy. But it’s a very long drive away and I’m off to bed.

Good night, y’all.

Where's My Reference Librarian?

Frank usually handles these things and does a far, far better job of it. I’m pretty stream-of-consciousness on my trip writing, while he does the reference librarian thing and provides all the great writing and details that really make the blog great. But I’ll give it a slight shot, and he should feel free to chime in here as we pass through various places (hint, hint).

Iowa
According to the state’s website, “Iowa became the 29th State in 1846. It is known as the Hawkeye State, and Des Moines is the capital city. Iowa is bordered by two great American rivers (the Mississippi and the Missouri) on its east and west sides. It has a rich agricultural tradition and ranks first in the nation with corn and soybean production as well as in hog production from its 93,000 farms.”

Yeah, we’ve had a couple of whiffs of the hog production during our ride.

Iowa was home to John Wayne, Herbert Hoover, Glenn Miller and Grant Wood. The state website says it was part of the Lewis and Clark expedition “and many other historic events” but doesn’t bother to name them.

Davenport, IA
“The Quad Cities rests on the banks of the Mighty Mississippi River and share a population of 400,000. The region is made up of Davenport and Bettendorf in Iowa and Moline/East Moline and Rock Island in Illinois, and surrounding communities.”—VisitQuadCities.com

This area is home to « John Deere » and there is lots of green and yellow here. There is the world headquarters, the John Deere Pavilion, the John Deere Store, the John Deere Historic Site, the Deere Run golf course, the John Deere Collectors Center and the John Deere Historic Homes and Gardens. There’s also a restored 620 LP Standard tractor on display and you can buy a toy replica of it. If that’s your thing.

Downtown Moline is getting the redevelopment fix with more than $40 million of new development around the Mississippi waterfront.

The River Music Experience boasts local and regional R&B, jazz, and other related music; the VisitQuadCities website boasts that visitors can interact with “larger-than-life video performances of icons like Tina Turner, B.B. King and Johnny Cash. Visitors can also take a ride on the Mississippi on the “Riversong,” a former New York canal tour boat. Which sort of all makes me go, “Huh.”

Middle America. What a country.

Des Moines, IA

According to the city’s website, the history of “Des Moines can be traced to 1834, when John Dougherty, an Indian Agent at Fort Leavenworth, Ks, recommended that a military post be established at the point where the Des Moines and Raccoon Rivers merge. Nine years later, May 1843, Captain James Allen and a company of dragoons from Fort Sanford arrived on the site. Captain Allen proposed to name the
garrison Fort Raccoon but was directed by the War Department to use the name Fort Des Moines.”

Raccoon, IA. That would have been interesting.

The city continues, “Some people feel that ‘Des Moines’ is derived from the Indian word ‘moingona’ meaning
river of the mounds which referred to the burial mounds that were located near the banks of the river. Others are of the opinion that name applies to the Trappist Monks (Moines de la Trappe) who lived in huts at the mouth of the Des Moines river. French voyagers referred to the river as La Riviere
des Moines. The consensus seems to be that Des Moines is a variation of Moingona, Moingonan, Moingoun, Mohingona, or Moningounas, as shown on early maps.”

Okay, glad to have that cleared up.

There are now more than 200,000 people in Raccoon, er, I mean Des Moines, which bills itself as the third largest major insurance center in the world. The other claim to fame is the city’s climate-controlled skywalk system, which makes up more blocks per capita than in any other city of comparable size in the U.S.

Well, there ya go.

Nebraska

Nebraska is the home of the nation’s only unicameral legislature. The website « On Unicameralism » notes that the state was bicameral for 68 years until Nebraskans voted to get rid of half of their state legislature in 1934, in the depths of the Great Depression, ostensibly for class reasons: “… The constitutions of our various states are built upon the idea that there is but one class. If this be true, there is no sense or reason in having the same thing done twice, especially if it is to be done by two bodies of men elected in the same way and having the same jurisdiction.” The influence of New Deal Republican senator George Norris, who wore out two sets of tires while he drove around campaigning for the ballot measure, along with the Depression and two other ballot issues on local prohibition and pari-mutuel betting, resulted in a 286,086 to 193,152 vote in favor of unicameralism. The Senate was the body retained and legislators are referred to as senators.

Nebraska’s other Unicameral claim to fame is that it is the only nonpartisan legislature in the country. “… a candidate’s political party is not listed on the election ballot. The two candidates who obtain the most votes in the primary election face each other in the general election. Also unlike other states, Nebraska’s legislative leadership is not based on party affiliation.”

Nebraska has numerous official state symbols, including the “state motto, seal, flag, flower, bird, tree, fossil, gemstone, rock, grass, insect, soil, mammal, fish, American folk dance, ballad, baseball capitol, village of lights, river, soft drink, beverage, poet laureate, poet, [and] song.” Makes you wonder if Senator Norris was really right about a one-house legislature concentrating on the people’s business and being more efficient and cheaper to run.

Omaha, NE

Omaha’s claim to fame is Boys Town, Father Flanagan’s place immortalized by Mickey Rooney and Spencer Tracy. It’s also home to Offutt Field, the former SAC Air Force Base, which isn’t mentioned much on the convention bureau’s website, nor is the fact that Omaha is the rabbit hole where King George fled on 9/11.

Moving right along.

The « Strategic Air and Space Museum » is home to 300,000 square feet of WWII and Cold War aircraft and artifacts. The museum’s website is proud of SAC’s role in “keeping the peace,” but doesn’t mention nuclear weapons scattered in silos around the place or any of that kind of stuff.

And that’s Day Two’s travelogue.

Heading West — Day One

« Photos from Day One »

The Very Rough Last Night in A2
Written @ 13:30 EST | Tuesday, 11-Jul-06 | Ann Arbor, MI

The beagle gave me a rough night. After the farewell party, I went and gassed up the Jeep and then back to Ann’s to spend the night. I was informed he had howled at the kitty several times and generally been a bit of a pain. We went up to bed at midnight, David taking the spare room and the beagle heading to Rachel’s. The drama began.

He paced and panted and whined at the door. I put him up on the bed twice to settle him down and twice he jumped down. Finally, I gave up, took a couple of pillows down the couch and prepared to settle in.

Bayley took a long drink of water and flopped on the kitchen tile. He then ate his breakfast from the previous morning at 01:30 and flopped back down again. My head was throbbing and I waited for the Alavert to kick in. Suddenly at 02:12, Bayley jumped up off the kitchen floor and ran to the front door, howling his head off. Scared the crap out of me. I jumped up and almost killed myself on the loveseat and hissed at him. I thought everyone would wake up, but only David heard him, fortunately.

I chased him, but he ran up the stairs and in the dim light from the bathroom window behind him, I could see him staring down at me. I was too tired and sore to run upstairs, so I went back to the couch to wrestle with the insomnia.

The next morning, we said goodbye to the girls and went to Burger King for breakfast and to Dunham’s to buy a Thule rooftop canvas bag to haul crap to California so the beagle wouldn’t have to ride up near roof in the backseat. Then it was off to the townhouse to do the final cleaning and turn in the keys. It took three hours to get things ready to go. It was hell.

We turned in the keys to the sourpuss apartment manager, left the forwarding address, got a coke one last time at Circle K, then headed out onto I-94.

When I saw the sign on south State pointing west for I-94 to Jackson, I admit I got a little choked up.

Goodbye, Ann Arbor.

Scattershots
Written @ 15:00 EST | Tuesday 11-Jul-06 | Battle Creek, MI

Random thoughts while sitting shotgun for the first couple of hundred miles:

Near Battle Creek is a sign for the “Moonraker Restaurant.” What’s that all about? Is it part of Drax Industries?

The beagle has been noshin’ on pretzels and Chex Mix from time-to-time since we left Ann Arbor. Yesterday, he had French fries and Auntie Ann and Cousin Rachel gave him some Cheez-Its. After 106 miles, he’s finally settling down into his VERY cushy back seat and having a nap. He has the whole back seat to himself and it’s piled with his beagle bed and blankies. His treats are handy, he has his own a/c vents, there’s a water bowl close by and everyone is pampering him shamefully, which he is accepting shamelessly. Now THAT’s the way to travel to California. I SO wish I were a beagle!

As we head into Kalamazoo County, I see a sign for “Fort Custer National Cemetery Industrial Park.” Huh? What’s that all about?

I turn XM Satellite Radio to ABC Talk Radio and get a full-blown earful of Sean Hannity spewing nonsense in full-bore screaming, vein-popping, red-faced mode. I quickly find Air America. If I’m gonna sit on an American Interstate Highway and listen to screaming, vein-popping, red-faced radio, it’s gonna be screaming, vein-popping, red-faced radio that affirms and confirms my own political and worldview prejudices and conceptions.

Paw Paw, MI? Any Relation to Quapaw, OK
Written @ 15:30 EST | Tuesday 11-Jul-06 | Paw Paw, MI

Approaching Paw Paw, MI. Paw Paw Days will be 15-Jul. Sorry I’m gonna miss that. America, what a country.

Still listening to Air America, I hear a sort of weird, deja-vu ad that gets my attention. It’s for a website for “middle school teachers, featuring inquiry-based learning curriculum for science education from the National Institutes for Health.” Which gives me a bad acid flashback to my science methods course from last January, which, I might add, was the only blemish on my grad school grade record, an 89% B+. The ad sort of gives me chills.

But the weirdest thing is when the announcer repeats “middle school teachers.” It hits me at mile marker 60 on Interstate 94 West near Paw Paw, MI, that the announcer is speaking to me. I. Am. A. Middle School. Teacher.

Good lord and holy freakin’ cow.

Don’t you hate those sudden, jarring, unexpected epiphanies at odd moments in odd places? It’s almost like when you open your mouth and you hear your mom or dad speaking phrases that you used to hate, which I mentioned before I refer to as the “Whippersnapper Routine:” “When I was your age …” etc. But this was even more jarring, I think. Over the last couple of weeks, things have been happening so quickly that I’ve lost track of time and feel like I’ve just been floating through the summer like an old leaf on a fast-moving stream. It will all gel, but it’s quite weird.

We’re approaching Benton Harbor and Lake Michigan and the Indiana state line. In a few minutes, we say goodbye to Michigan and the eastern time zone and start feeling like we’re really on a road trip. We’ll be making a quick stop in La Porte, IN, to visit Wells Fargo and take care of the final piece of the moving puzzle, the financial details of the house rental. The lease is signed, the goods are headed west, the car is loaded and we’re on the road. Ann Arbor is 158 miles behind us.

Have I said holy freakin’ cow already?

Farewell, Michigan, the “Pleasant Peninsula”
Written @ 16:00 EST | Tuesday 11-Jul-06 | Approaching Lake Michigan

The rain looks like settling in for a very long stay. It started raining around 14:30. A minivan with Alaska plates just suddenly hit the brakes and pulled into the right lane in the heavy rain, right in front of a semi. The trucker was not pleased. Haven’t heard an airhorn blast like that since I last went to an Oklahoma Sooners game. The goober in the minivan was fairly oblivious that he had a very large and very angry trucker breathing up his rear. Wonder if he’ll make it all the way home to Fairbanks or Anchorage or wherever.

The rain is so hard that it’s unlikely I’ll get a very good pic of the “Leaving Michigan” and “Welcome to Indiana” signs. How gooberish is that?

How do I feel about leaving Michigan? Well, it was tough last night saying goodbye to everyone. Very sad. I will miss everyone terribly. I got a big lump in my throat taking one last, long look at the empty townhouse as we left. It was the first place that Frank and I shared together, our first home as a couple. We got married nearby, in Windsor, Canada. We had three amazing years. Met wonderful people, friends for life. Had great experiences at the university and in school. And some not-so-great ones, but that’s life. Michigan was good for us in some ways, bad in others. I mentioned before that I find “Michigan Lefts,” where you turn right-left-left in order to turn left, as well as aggressive Michigan drivers, and 42-wheel semi-trucks, aggravating and baffling. I found some teachers I dealt with baffling and aggravating as well.

Speaking of baffling, the state motto is, “If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you.” That is just … kinda awkward and weird. Why would I be seeking a pleasant peninsula? Whatever.

It’s 16:22 EST, or 15:22 EST, and we just crossed the Indiana line.

Well, shut my mouth.

Goodbye, Michigan.

Sidetrip
Written @ 15:45 CST | Tuesday 11-Jul-06 | La Porte, IN

Our first stop of the trip is in the rain. Indiana looks much like Michigan. Horses in the field, green trees. Beagle is asleep in the back, snoring softly. When we get to the bank, I’ll give him a walk in the rain. He’ll be hacked.

We pass under the Indiana Turnpike, which is actually I-80, our first glimpse of the road we’ll become intimately acquainted with between now and Sunday.

I’m writing all this stuff while David drives. I’m a total technogeek and have been known to do many odd things while driving, including studying for exams, reading Shakespeare, eating a Sonic hickory cheeseburger (Mmmmmmmm, Sonic!), etc. But I’ve never actually used a laptop and typed while driving. I don’t think I’ll start now. So, there will be gaps in the journal when I’m driving or sleeping. Which is like saying the sun rises in the east, I know. I have no idea why I’m even writing this stuff, but it passes the time.

Pine Lake is pretty in the rain. It’s 72 degrees. Downtown is busy and bigger than expected. It’s small town America at its best, and there are some real goobers in pickup trucks on the streets.

Time for a break.

The Beagle Poops on Indiana, his 15th State
Written @ 16:05 CST | Tuesday 11-Jul-06 | La Porte, IN

The beagle had a nice walk in the rain, around the block. La Porte was a surprise; being this close to the nastiness that I have seen from Amtrak around Gary, I was expecting something less … than stellar. La Porte is actually a quaint, middle American town. Quintessential as the saying goes. There does tend to be quite a few American flags all higgledy-piggledy, but there are also “End the War Now” and “Bring the Troops Home” bumper stickers, interestingly enough. It’s only 20 miles from South Bend, yet I see no Fightin’ Irish stickers, although there is a lone Catholic church with children out front having a blast playing in the rain while adults watch from the open, lighted doorway. There are big brick planters on every street corner downtown with great flowers in them and signs reading “Adopt a Planter.” One is adopted by a school bus driver, another by a married couple, another by the United Homosexuals of Indiana. Just kidding, just wanted to see if you were paying attention.

We just passed the Thunderbird Lanes bowling alley, pub, and fishing tackle store, which seems to be interesting because I’ve never seen a combination bowling alley and fishing tackle shop. Wonder if you can buy bait while waiting your turn in the fifth frame? Also, I haven’t seen many things named “Thunderbird” this side of New Mexico. It makes me homesick. Lots of things between my hometown, Roswell, and up in the mountains of Ruidoso are named Thunderbird. When I was a wee lad, I once took an old white sheet and created my own Thunderbird flag and went out in the woods near Clovis and played War. Not sure what army I was supposed to be in, but it was a hell of a lot of fun. Good times, good times.

Jammed Up With Boston Boy
Written @ 15:24 CST | Tuesday 11-Jul-06 | Chicago, IL

We’re in the thick of it now. Traffic backed up like a clogged drain at Cher’s house. We’re stop-and-go trying to get to the toll gates on the I-80 tollway. Plus, it’s 17:30, rush hour. We have XM tuned to Chicago weather and traffic, which is getting old and not giving us any good news.

I’ve spotted a fellow traveller with Massachusetts plates, towing a small U-Haul trailer behind a small SUV of some sort. And I mean fellow traveller in the “gay old time” sense. He’s quite lovely to look at while sitting here on the concrete at Western and 171st on the south side.

At least the rain has stopped for now.

The toll is 60 cents. The way ahead is clear and we’re chasing Boston boy. Unfortunately, someone else is in the passenger seat, slumped down asleep. Still, he made things pretty for a little while, since he was sitting there all Jake Gyllenhaal-ish.

Have I been away from my husband too long? Yup.

Keep the Internet Connection On for Us
Written @ 15:46 CST | Tuesday 11-Jul-06 | Chicago, IL

I call the hotel in Davenport to confirm our reservations. “We’ll see you when you get here.”

Well, at least she didn’t say, “We’ll keep the light on for you.” Ain’t ever stayin’ at THAT place.

Nope, LaQuinta has the two requirements we have when we travel: they like beagles and their rooms are wired with highspeed ethernet connections. It ain’t the Ritz Carlton, but it beats a tent on the side of the road.

And it’s still 130 miles away. Roughly about the distance between Duncan and Dallas, so about two-and-a-half hours before the beagle gets his dinner.

David is still driving after 273 miles and seems content to do it. As far as I’m concerned, he can do the whole 2,300. But that’s asking a bit much. I’m grateful for as much as possible. I’ve done the cross-country to California thing way too many times. I’d rather sit and play voyeur, peering at weird stuff by the side of the road and cuties in hot SUVs.

Corn, Prisons, and Stan
Written @ 18:40 CST | Tuesday 11-Jul-06 | La Salle, IL

Shortly after crossing the Des Plaines river at Joliet, the land stretches and flattens out. We saw our first corn fields west of Joliet. We didn’t see the prison, however, which is mostly what Joliet is known for, Al Capone and all that.

Talked to my friend Stan in DC for a few miles as he drove home from work. We noted that it’s been almost 30 years that we’ve known each other.

For the last three years, almost at least once a week or more, he’s called me as he leaves work in Bethesda, MD, and commutes home on the Beltway and I-66 to home in Chantilly, VA. I’ve kept him company, but the move to California will affect that, since we’re three hours behind. When he’s going home in the evening now, I’ll still be in my last period with the seventh graders. And that’s gonna suck.

Not sure how those are all connected, but my brain is pretty much on autopilot today.

By the way, more and more corn is appearing. There’s a helluva lotta corn out there.

Mississippi River
Written @ 19:49 CST | Tuesday 11-Jul-06 | Moline, IL

Illinois is almost finished. We just entered Rock Island County, last one before the Mississippi River and Iowa. The hotel is about 30 minutes away. The dog is completely zonked, but he’ll be ready for his dinner when we get in place. The road is flat and mostly straight and there are very few people on it; the crowd has thinned out considerably. There is still intermittent rain from time to time, but it has been a mostly pleasant trip on Day One.

I’ve finally run out of things to say. Next up: Mississippi River pictures and a much-needed stop. More later.

Worn Out Dogs
Written @ 01:29 CST | Wednesday 12-Jul-06 | Davenport, IA

We’re pooped. We got into the hotel after a beagle walk, then went back out and picked up dinner. I then swam for thirty minutes, talked to the hubby for awhile while doing laundry and walking on the treadmill, then it was back to the room to sort all the stuff I brought because there wasn’t time to do it in Ann Arbor.

I’m going to post some pics from day one on Flickr, then it’s off to bed. Tomorrow’s agenda: Up at 8, breakfast in the hotel, then it’s back to I-80 westbound, headed the 304 miles to Omaha, By God Nebraska.

I miss my fellow ELMAC’ers. It feels like I’m heading off into the unknown by myself and have suddenly lost the support of my homies. This sucks.

I’m not quite ready to say I miss the actual University of Michigan yet. Maybe next week. But I do miss the gang I spent the last year with.

Off to bed. Catch ya on down the road.

Night, y’all.

On Restless Beagles and Night-Before-Road-Trip Insomnia

Okay, so I thought the next post would be from Davenport, IA, but, thanks to one of the most wonderful women in the world, I have a nicer place to sleep than my empty townhouse, as well as a working internet connection, so what they hey. I also have insomnia; it’s 1:30 a.m., my last few hours in Ann Arbor, and I should be asleep, given the work we have to do in the morning and the cleaning and the driving to Iowa.

But I’m still up, with an allergy attack and a very restless beagle, who refuses to sleep in the bedroom in my friend Ann’s house, who so graciously opened her home to us on our tonight so we wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor.

Bayley just will not sleep in Ann’s daughter’s room, so we came back downstairs, where he had a long drink of water and finished off his dinner, which had been waiting for him since around 3 p.m. He finally has plopped down on the kitchen tile and is snoring. I have no idea why he prefers the cool, hard kitchen floor to a bed, but I have never pretended to understand the inner workings of beagles.

His world, for the 15th time in his short life, is topsy-turvy again and he’s about to spend seven longs days in the Jeep and seven long nights in strange LaQuinta hotels. Poor dog has lived in five states and visited 14 others. He’s gotten around quite a bit in 12 years.

But he looks good to go for another round, which is a good thing. In a short six hours, Ann will wake us up and we’ll head back to the apartment, where we still have to clean the ‘fridge and mop the floor and vacuum the living room and basement. I also have to finish packing and loading the Jeep, which was looking like a hopeless cause this evening, until I realized you can get rooftop bags that attach to the luggage rack and free up much needed space inside the car. Our first mission in the morning will be to search out such a thing.

Instead of sleeping, I’m waiting for the Alavert to take over and the head to stop pounding. Naturally, the internet beckoned. My niece in Fort Worth(less) tried to IM me earlier in the evening and show me pics of her fiance, who I’ve never met and probably won’t until the wedding next June. It’s a weird, strange thing to be 42 and have young nieces who are getting married.

Viewing her website led me to her brother’s MySpace site, which has strange and wonderful pictures and weird and mystical writings. Which loops my thinking right around to the recurring theme of my teaching: internet safety/privacy.

(Warning: Favorite subject/broken record rant follows. Scroll down and ignore. I’m a harmless ol’ coot complainin’ ‘bout the whippersnappers for the next couple of paragraphs.)

Does my nephew’s generation really think that ANYthing they post on MySpace, etc., is really private? That only their friends see their … interesting (given my family’s hyper-religious background) pictures, comments, and other postings? Maybe they think us old fogies are terminally clueless and don’t know how to use the internets, forgetting that at least one of their uncles is young enough to have been creating websites and doing web consulting (and, for that matter, trading naughty IMs with guys from New York to California) since they were little bitty snot-nosed kids in elementary school. And that said uncle is married to a research librarian and knows a thing or two about how to use the new-fangled Inter-netty thang to find out some v-e-r-y interesting things.

Or, in this particular case, have I been so distant from the Texhoma nexus of the family that I’m off the radar, a non-entity who jets in occasionally from the faggy, er, I mean, foggy place, bitches about Oklahoma, and then jets back to his fabulous social life of slurping Jello shooters off the taut, muscle-rippled bodies of 21-year-old gym bunnies on Gay Pride Parade floats every weekend? Or so they seem to think when the reality is so much more … boring?

I can do little about the family thing, save sending a little smack-down IM or e-mail, but I will have to do something at the new job. Middle school teachers, particularly in language arts and social studies, have to not only get ON the band wagon, but get out in front and lead the band. Or else terminally un-hip and un-cool uncles 2,500 miles away might just run across pictures better left to dark desk drawers. Trouble is, most teachers not only are not leading the band, but they haven’t a clue that a band just went through town, although they have heard tell that some contraption called a wagon might have been spotted in the neighborhood.

It does make me wonder a bit if I shouldn’t be educating teachers and parents instead of seventh graders.

‘Nuff. 30 minutes have gone by, the Alavert is beginning to work, I’m starting to bore even myself with what I call the “Whippersnapper Routine;” you know the one, where your dad’s standard phrases like, “kids today,” and “you young whippersnappers,” and “when I was your age” come out of your mouth and you mean them. I have renewed a vow to shut my mouth, forcibly with my hand if necessary, this year in the classroom if I feel the “Whippersnapper Routine” coming on.

And now I have to go smack down another sort of whippersnapper; it’s 2:12 a.m. and the beagle just jumped off the kitchen tile and starting howling. God only knows at what, but I’m pretty sure he woke up the longsuffering friends who are putting up with us today/tonight (not to mention the entire frickin’ neighborhood) and gave them a heart attack. Beagle baying at 2 a.m. wakes the dead and scares the living to death.

Ann, I owe you, big time!

Now where did I put that muzzle??

Night, y’all.

Countdown Begins

No, not of the shuttle Discovery, of my final week in Ann Arbor.

It now seems like an amazingly fast three years. I’ve so many wonderful friends and accomplished some incredible (for me) things and I don’t regret our time here at all.

But new jobs, houses and vistas await. Time to get on to the next phase of life.

At this point, the Beagle and I will be driving to Davenport, IA, a week from today, Tuesday the 11th. Then it’s up to Mitchell, SD, then over to Mount Rushmore and Casper, WY, on the 13th. The 14th will see the Beagle posed in front of Old Faithful and spending the night in West Yellowstone, MT. On the 15th, we point it towards home, heading south to Twin Falls, ID. On the 16th, we’ll do the Nevada thing, ending up in downtown Reno. The 17th will see us back in Yosemite National Park. Finally, on the 18th, we’ll pull into Brentwood and start the unpacking. I have new teacher orientation the following Monday, the 24th, and I’ll be teaching 125 7th graders the Monday after that, the 31st.

Suddenly, it’s all moving so fast.

But first, a farewell party with my fellow ELMACers next Monday night will be a celebration of my final Michigan moments. It will definitely be bittersweet, just like our time here.

I’ll start posting lots of things here during our trip. I’m not the researcher and interesting writer that Frank is and since he’s not going to be on this trip, it might be a bit dull (in more ways than one). But I’ll give it my best shot.

Oops.

Has it really been almost two months since we posted anything? Yeegads. Apologies.

Let’s see. In the past two months, I’ve survived a narrow brush with winter, a hellish brush with three intense grad school courses orginally designed to be taken over four months crammed down into one, hideously exhausting but fun days in the second grade, a professor or two from hell, a blond undergrad from Toledo who smashed up the side of my Jeep, an unfortunately less-than-fruitful trip to Colorado and … skinned knees, winter-induced arthritis pain, a small fire in the clothes dryer and missing by only two hours one of A2’s two winter suicides who chose the parking garage my classmates and I use while we attend classes at the School of Education.

Plus, Frank has news. I won’t let on except to say that ASquared AirBeagle’s days are numbered; come mid-May, one-half of us will be returning whence we came and come mid-July, the beagle and the other half of us will be joining him back in whence we came (I have to stay here to finish my master’s on June 15th and end the lease on the townhouse).

(Weird side-note: WordPress has this cutesy little plugin which produces quotes from Hello Dolly at the top of the administration panel. The one currently up there as I write about leaving Michigan says, ‘It’s so nice to have you back where you belong.’ Which is both sorta cute and sorta creepy at the same time. Maybe a better song selection would be, ‘California, here we come. Right back where we started from.’)

All of which is anxiety-inducing, so I have to go plan a writing workshop minilesson for tomorrow. Apologies for the long silence. Thanks for following A2 AB for this three years; it’s been quite an … interesting time here in the great white yankee north. There’s still four months to go, so I’ll have lots more to say. Maybe when by July when it finally gets warm again up here and my fingers thaw out.

Ciao.

Lost in 2005

There were some remarkable people who left us in 2005:

‘When morality comes up against profit, it is seldom profit that loses.’
—Shirley Chisholm, who died 1-Jan-05

‘“We went through the top of the head, I think she was awake. She had a mild tranquilizer. I made a surgical incision in the brain through the skull. It was near the front. It was on both sides. We just made a small incision, no more than an inch.” The instrument Dr. Watts used looked like a butter knife. He swung it up and down to cut brain tissue. “We put an instrument inside,” he said. As Dr. Watts cut, Dr. Freeman put questions to Rosemary. For example, he asked her to recite the Lord’s Prayer or sing “God Bless America” or count backwards. … “We made an estimate on how far to cut based on how she responded.” … When she began to become incoherent, they stopped’
—Dr. James W. Watts and Dr. Walter Freeman, report on frontal lobotomy on Rosemary Kennedy, who died 7-Jan-05

‘I had a happy marriage and a nice wife. I accomplished everything you can. What more can you want?’
—Max Schmeling, who died 2-Feb-05

‘Without alienation, there can be no politics.’
—Arthur Miller, who died10-Feb-05

‘America… just a nation of two hundred million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable.’
—Hunter S. Thompson, who died 20-Feb-05

‘Me, I’m good at nothing but walking on the set with a pretty dress.’
—Sandra Dee, who died 20-Feb-05

‘I’m just not the glamour type. Glamour girls are born, not made. And the real ones can be glamorous even if they don’t wear magnificent clothes. I’ll bet Lana Turner would look glamorous in anything.’
—Teresa Wright, who died 6-Mar-05

‘It’s inevitable that the company come back.’
—John DeLorean, who died 19-Mar-05

‘War is a defeat for humanity.’
—Pope John Paul II, who died 2-Apr-05

‘There are evils that have the ability to survive identification and go on for ever… money, for instance, or war.’
—Saul Bellow, who died 5-Apr-05

‘I work hard in social work, public relations, and raising the Grimaldi heirs.’
—Princess Grace about her life with Prince Rainier Grimaldi of Monaco, who died 6-Apr-05

‘Marriage as an institution developed from rape as a practice. Rape, originally defined as abduction, became marriage by capture. Marriage meant the taking was to extend in time, to be not only use of but possession of, or ownership.’
—Andrea Dworkin, who died 9-Apr-05

‘Well, the musicals give emphasis to love, longing, melancholy, sadness. All of that is always there.’
—Ismail Merchant, who died 25-May-05

‘I don’t really care how I am remembered as long as I bring happiness and joy to people.’
—Eddie Albert, who died 26-May-05

‘I’d like to be remembered as a premier singer of songs, not just a popular act of a given period.’
—Luther Vandross, who died 1-Jul-05

‘There’s nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who’s in love with him.’
—Ernest Lehman, who died 2-Jul-05

‘Abhorrence of apartheid is a moral attitude, not a policy.’
—Edward Heath, who died 17-Jul-05

‘Vietnam was the first war ever fought without any censorship. Without censorship, things can get terribly confused in the public mind.’
—William C. Westmoreland, who died 18-Jul-05

‘I’m not tired of [beam me up Scotty] at all. Good gracious, it’s been said to me for just about 31 years. It’s been said to me at 70 miles an hour across four lanes on the freeway. I hear it from just about everybody. It’s been fun.’
—James Doohan, who died 20-Jul-05

‘I will be father to the young, brother to the elderly. I am but one of you; whatever troubles you, troubles me; whatever pleases you, pleases me.’
—King Fahd Bin Abdul Aziz, who died 1-Aug-05

‘There were no international terrorists in Iraq until we went in. It was we who gave the perfect conditions in which Al Qaeda could thrive.’
—Robin Cook, who died 6-Aug-05

‘It’s a brassiere! You know about those things, you’re a big boy now. … It’s brand new. Revolutionary up-lift: No shoulder straps, no back straps, but it does everything a brassiere should do. Works on the principle of the cantilevered bridge. … An aircraft engineer down the penninsula designed it; he worked it out in his spare time.’ [from Vertigo]
—Barbara Bel Geddes, who died 8-Aug-05

‘I think Alexander Hamilton has received a little bit of short shrift from history, and I think Jefferson has been treated a little bit too generously. I admire them both, but I admire them both about equally.’
—William Rehnquist, who died 3-Sep-05

‘I’ve often wondered if maybe I tried to tell too many stories in The Sand Pebbles.’
—Robert Wise, who died 14-Sep-05

‘Sid Luft was no gentleman. He was a weight lifter. He was a former test pilot. He was a gambler. He’s still one of those old-time Hollywood guys.’
—Lorna Luft about her father, Sidney Luft, who died 15-Sep-05

‘The history of man is the history of crimes, and history can repeat. So information is a defence. Through this we can build, we must build, a defence against repetition.’
—Simon Wiesenthal, who died 20-Sep-05

‘I said to myself, where are we living? In the United States of America where you’re innocent until proven guilty, or Nazi Germany with the Gestapo calling?’
—Tommy Bond during the Robert Blake trial. Bond died 24-Sep-05

‘All I was doing was trying to get home from work.’
—Rosa Parks, who died 24-Sep-05

‘I- I- I watched him for fifteen years, sitting in a room, staring at a wall, not seeing the wall, looking past the wall – looking at this night, inhumanly patient, waiting for some secret, silent alarm to trigger him off. Death has come to your little town, Sheriff. Now you can either ignore it, or you can help me to stop it.’
—Donald Pleasance in 1978’s Halloween, produced by Moustapha Akkad, who died 11-Nov-05

‘The changes in both radio and television are mind-boggling.’
—Ralph Edwards, who died 16-Nov-05

‘Being in politics is like being a football coach. You have to be smart enough to understand the game, and dumb enough to think it’s important.’
—Eugene McCarthy, who died 10-Dec-05

‘There’s a thin line between to laugh with and to laugh at.’
—Richard Pryor, who died 10-Dec-05

‘Power always has to be kept in check; power exercised in secret, especially under the cloak of national security, is doubly dangerous.’
—William Proxmire, who died 14-Dec-05

Lost in '05: Hunter S. Thompson

The year that was: « Goodbye Hunter S. Thompson »:

‘‘Politics is the art of controlling your environment.’ That is one of the key things I learned in these years, and I learned it the hard way. Anybody who thinks that ‘it doesn’t matter who’s President’ has never been Drafted and sent off to fight and die in a vicious, stupid War on the other side of the World — or been beaten and gassed by Police for trespassing on public property — or been hounded by the IRS for purely political reasons — or locked up in the Cook County Jail with a broken nose and no phone access and twelve perverts wanting to stomp your ass in the shower. That is when it matters who is President or Governor or Police Chief. That is when you will wish you had voted.’
—Hunter S. Thompson via John Cusack in the Huffington Post

Reg Dwight Gets Hitched

High-profile celebrity civil commitment ceremony: check. Quaint British setting (the same location as Prince Charles and Camilla Parker-Bowles’ ceremony in April): check. Crowds of paparazzi: check. Almost as many everyday well-wishers: check.

Only, the couple is Elton John and David Furnish, and for some reason, in the UK (and in Canada, and in a number of other Western countries) it just really isn’t that big of a deal. “He’s a queen, but he’s our queen,” one Brit cracked, as she held aloft a banner congratulating the couple. When the first ceremonies were held in Belfast (Belfast! ! !) on Monday, there were a number of protesters, to be sure. But I didn’t see a single torch, pitchfork, or gibbet.

Meanwhile, politicians in this country do everything in their power to make sure that not only gay weddings, but any law or resolution that sanctions same-sex relationships, is a crime against the state. You are made to feel like a felon (or worse, as though you are un-American) for wanting to visit your partner if he’s incapacitated and winds up in a hospital bed.

There was a long article in last Sunday’s Washington Post Magazine about a two-woman couple from Fredericksburg, Virginia who left the state for Maryland because of that state’s restrictive laws against same-sex couples. The reporter had an online exchange with readers after the story appeared, and along with the expected rage from those who questioned why so much space and time was wasted on a same-sex couple (and, as well, the surprising numbers of Virginians who expressed their regret that the couple left the state) were a few messages from readers who said that they knew gay people and thought they were “nice” but didn’t see why they should be making such a fuss.

I can actually muster more comprehension for the messages from the people who said that all gays currently living in Virginia should pack their bags and leave the commonwealth (with good riddance).

Asi es Nuevo Mexico

Stuff like « this » makes me wonder if my desire to return to my home state is really all that wise of an idea:

‘An essay contest at a New Mexico high school asks students to explain why preserving marriage between men and women is vital society and why unborn children merit respect and protection. The contest, at Farmington’s Piedra Vista High School, is being held in connection with an essay contest sponsored by United Families International, an organization whose primary mission is “to strengthen the family by promoting marriage between one man and woman and the protection of human life, including unborn children.” The students were given the option of either writing a response to two questions about preserving marriage and the protection of the “unborn” or submitting a personal narrative.’
—365Gay.com

I wonder … what would the parents have done if the questions were about granting constitutional marriage equality to all and preserving a woman’s right to reproductive choice? I think I already know the answer. Yet another reason to erect not only a wall of separation between church and state in the schools, but also between politics and state in the schools. And yes, there is a difference.

Courage and Conviction vs. Cowardice and Coercion

“Rabbi Yoffie! You’re my new hero!”

We need more courageous heroes like « Rabbi Eric Yoffie » to speak more truth to power:

‘The leader of the largest branch of American Judaism blasted conservative religious activists in a speech Saturday, calling them “zealots” who claim a “monopoly on God” while promoting anti-gay policies akin to Adolf Hitler’s. Rabbi Eric Yoffie, president of the liberal Union for Reform Judaism, said “religious right” leaders believe “unless you attend my church, accept my God and study my sacred text you cannot be a moral person.” “What could be more bigoted than to claim that you have a monopoly on God?” he said during the movement’s national assembly in Houston, which runs through Sunday. …
‘He used particularly strong language to condemn conservative attitudes toward homosexuals. He said he understood that traditionalists have concluded gay marriage violates Scripture, but he said that did not justify denying legal protections to same-sex partners and their children. “We cannot forget that when Hitler came to power in 1933, one of the first things that he did was ban gay organizations,” Yoffie said. “Yes, we can disagree about gay marriage. But there is no excuse for hateful rhetoric that fuels the hellfires of anti-gay bigotry.”’
—Associated Press

Amen, Rabbi Yoffie! You’re my new hero.

Meanwhile, Fascist FunDumbMentalist leader Jerry Falwell announced he’s starting « a religious holy war against anyone who won’t say ‘Merry Christmas’ », complete with McCarthyite snitches in the public schools:

‘Falwell has put the power of his 24,000-member congregation behind the “Friend or Foe Christmas Campaign,” an effort led by the conservative legal organization Liberty Counsel. The group promises to file suit against anyone who spreads what it sees as misinformation about how Christmas can be celebrated in schools and public spaces. The 8,000 members of the Christian Educators Association International will be the campaign’s “eyes and ears” in the nation’s public schools. They’ll be reporting to 750 Liberty Counsel lawyers who are ready to pounce if, for example, a teacher is muzzled from leading the third-graders in “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” An additional 800 attorneys from another conservative legal group, the Alliance Defense Fund, are standing by as part of a similar effort, the Christmas Project. Its slogan: “Merry Christmas. It’s OK to say it.”’
—SF Gate

Rabbi Yoffie … Jerry Falwell … not much of a contest as to which one is closest to G-d, eh?

Paradox? Or Hypocrisy?

“Jesus, save us from your followers!”

I’ve been meaning to blog this for weeks, to read it into the record, so to speak. But what with grad school hell, I just haven’t had time.

I’ve long thought that we need to take Jesus back from his followers. And Bill McKibben wrote up « some persuasive arguments » last August in Harper’s:

‘Only 40 percent of Americans can name more than four of the Ten Commandments, and a scant half can cite any of the four authors of the Gospels. Twelve percent believe Joan of Arc was Noah’s wife. This failure to recall the specifics of our Christian heritage may be further evidence of our nation’s educational decline, but it probably doesn’t matter all that much in spiritual or political terms. Here is a statistic that does matter: Three quarters of Americans believe the Bible teaches that “God helps those who help themselves.” That is, three out of four Americans believe that this uber-American idea, a notion at the core of our current individualist politics and culture, which was in fact uttered by Ben Franklin, actually appears in Holy Scripture. The thing is, not only is Franklin’s wisdom not biblical; it’s counter-biblical. Few ideas could be further from the gospel message, with its radical summons to love of neighbor. On this essential matter, most Americans—most American Christians—are simply wrong, as if 75 percent of American scientists believed that Newton proved gravity causes apples to fly up.
‘Asking Christians what Christ taught isn’t a trick. When we say we are a Christian nation—and, overwhelmingly, we do—it means something. People who go to church absorb lessons there and make real decisions based on those lessons; increasingly, these lessons inform their politics. (One poll found that 11 percent of U.S. churchgoers were urged by their clergy to vote in a particular way in the 2004 election, up from 6 percent in 2000.) When George Bush says that Jesus Christ is his favorite philosopher, he may or may not be sincere, but he is reflecting the sincere beliefs of the vast majority of Americans.
‘And therein is the paradox. America is simultaneously the most professedly Christian of the developed nations and the least Christian in its behavior. That paradox—more important, perhaps, than the much touted ability of French women to stay thin on a diet of chocolate and cheese—illuminates the hollow at the core of our boastful, careening culture.’
—Harper’s

McKibben goes on to sum things up nicely in a way with which I wholeheartedly agree:

‘But straight is the path and narrow is the way. The gospel is too radical for any culture larger than the Amish to ever come close to realizing; in demanding a departure from selfishness it conflicts with all our current desires. Even the first time around, judging by the reaction, the Gospels were pretty unwelcome news to an awful lot of people. There is not going to be a modern-day return to the church of the early believers, holding all things in common—that’s not what I’m talking about. Taking seriously the actual message of Jesus, though, should serve at least to moderate the greed and violence that mark this culture. It’s hard to imagine a con much more audacious than making Christ the front man for a program of tax cuts for the rich or war in Iraq. If some modest part of the 85 percent of us who are Christians woke up to that fact, then the world might change.’

To which I can only add, ‘Amen!’

Mike Cox: Republican Hypocrite

Before I forget, I didn’t fail to notice that the « Fascist Michigan attorney general who is trying to strip faithful Michigan couples of all their health insurance is himself an adulterer »:

‘Attorney General Mike Cox announced Wednesday he had an extramarital affair and accused the state’s most famous attorney, Geoffrey Fieger, of threatening to expose him unless Cox dropped an investigation into Fieger’s alleged violation of campaign-finance laws. “A number of years ago, I was unfaithful to my wife, Laura,” an emotional Cox said at a news conference, as his teary-eyed wife stood by his side in his Detroit office. “What I did was inexcusable and it was entirely my fault.” Cox said he told his wife about the affair in 2003, three months after he took office.’

Interesting how the family values crowd was stone cold silent when, according to the Leviticus that they love to quote, they should be throwing stones.

Despicable. Disgusting.

Typical.

Cold Weather

Cold is finally here. Temps have been frigid the past several days, with highs not hitting 50 and lows easily dipping down near freezing. The past couple of days have even necessitated gloves and a parka. A few people are still walking around in shorts but they are few and far between. The mass grumbling and moaning haven’t started yet, but this seems to be mostly because the cold snap was not preceded by much of anything in the way of preliminaries — it was, simply, suddenly way colder than it’s been for six months.

Wrong Again

It’s been back up in the mid-80s with high dewpoints for the past several days, just proving once again that trying to predict weather in Michigan is (especially if you’re a rank amateur, like me) a fool’s errand.

Autumn Is Here

Today did, in all seriousness, feel for the first time like autumn. It didn’t really get much above 60 degrees all day (it’s supposed to dip down to 36 tonight), and there was that unmistakable bite in the air that hasn’t been around for at least five months, or whenever the freak day or two was in April when we had really chilly weather at the tail end of winter (forget spring, there was no spring to speak of at all this year — just a long winter and an equally long summer). Some folks were out today defiantly wearing their shorts and T-shirts — it was still sunny, after all — and some were dressed up in full-on parka-zipped-up-to-the-neck mode. Summer weather won’t be here much longer, the forecasts of temps in the mid-to-high 70s over the next few days notwithstanding.

Now Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Benefits!

Dear Fascist Michigan Voters-For-Prop-2: « Screw. You. »:

‘A Michigan judge ruled on Tuesday that a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage does not prevent the state from offering health insurance benefits to the same-sex partners of state workers. Ingham County Circuit Judge Joyce Draganchuk said health care benefits are benefits of employment, not marriage. Twenty-two same-sex couples filed suit against the state in March after Gov. Jennifer Granholm (D), acting on the advice of Attorney General Mike Cox ®, terminated domestic partner benefits that had been won by state unions. One partner of each of the 22 couples works for the state of Michigan.
‘In a legal opinion to the governor, Cox said that the constitutional amendment passed by voters last year bars all public employers from providing domestic partner benefits. But, although Granholm removed the benefits from the contracts she disagreed with Cox’s interpretation of the amendment and in July she entered the case on the side of the gay couples. Cox was obligated to argue the case against benefits as Attorney General. “Health care benefits are not among the statutory rights or benefits of marriage,” Judge Draganchuk said in her written ruling. “An individual does not receive health benefits for his or her spouse as a matter of legal right upon getting married.”
‘The twenty-two couples were represented by the American Civil Liberties Union. “Today’s ruling affirms what we’ve believed all along — Michigan voters never intended to take health insurance away from families,” said ACLU attorney Deborah LaBelle. The case was closely watched by municipalities across the state. After telling Gov. Granholm the benefits were illegal, Cox warned several cities that benefits packages they were contemplating were also illegal. Cox’s office has not said if it will appeal the ruling.’
—365Gay.com

I’ll bet the pig appeals. And I hope he and his ilk get slapped on their asses again.

(Or was that all too passionate?)

Autumn?

Yesterday actually felt like the first hints of autumn to me — it was very hot, like it’s been for the most part for at least the past three weeks here in Ann Arbor, but it also was somewhat windy, the heat was accompanied by less humidity than it has been, and there was a laziness to the color of the sunlight that felt like very late summer light. It’s supposed to hit 91 degrees today, so it’s possible that that feeling yesterday was just a fluke. But it’s supposed to cool down significantly starting tomorrow — down into the seventies — so perhaps it’s the start of a trend.

City Beneath the Sea

I’m melancholy tonight, listening to « Harry Connick Jr.‘s » Way Down Yonder in New Orleans, Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?, Basin Street Blues and, especially, City Beneath the Sea, his love song to New Orleans, which is one of a handful of my favorite cities on the planet. Tears my heart out, but I needed to hear them (and my boy Harry) tonight.

Approval from Jerry Falwell

Gosh. I feel so … honored. « Jerry Falwell now approves of me getting my master’s in elementary education », as long, of course, as I don’t ‘recruit’ the little buggers … whatever that means:

‘“I don’t think homosexuals should be granted a special minority status,” he told the paper. However, he said that gays, including teachers, should not be denied jobs solely because of their sexuality. “As long as a person obeys the law and doesn’t recruit a student to a certain lifestyle, they shouldn’t be prevented from teaching,” Falwell said. “Every American should be allowed to work wherever he or she wishes as long as they obey the law.” He has a caveat for that too, though. He said he is not going to hire gays for teaching positions at Liberty Christian Academy or Liberty University. “Our doctrinal belief is that homosexuality is wrong,” he said. “We also believe heterosexual promiscuity is wrong. Those have been standards since the beginning.”’
—365Gay.com

Well, okie dokie then. I need to look up the law that says ‘gay teachers can’t recruit students to a certain lifestyle,’ and then we’re good to go. I’m so relieved.

We Are All Londoners

Just as on 11-Marzo, we were all Madrileños and on 11-September we were all New Yorkers, as of 7-July we are all « Londoners ».

LondonLogo ‘Once the shock had settled, I started to feel immense pride that the LAS, the other emergency services, the hospitals, and all the other support groups and organisations were all doing such an excellent job. To my eyes it seemed that the Major Incident planning was going smoothly, turning chaos into order. And what you need to remember is that this wasn’t a major incident, but instead four major incidents, all happening at once. I think everyone involved, from the experts, to the members of public who helped each other, should feel pride that they performed so well in this crisis. London won’t be beaten, we spent 20 years under the shadow of the IRA, and are used to terrorists. The medical staff at the BMA building did their best to save their ‘civilian’ staff from looking at the carnage that was left from the bomb on the bus.’

The Intelligently Designed Four

So. « Ayn Clouter writes movie script treatments ». Who knew?

‘What is really needed to refresh the medium is to bring in, not “politically correct” references to current society, but real down-and-dirty politics filled with Red State values. Hence this treatment for a much better remake of the original material, meant to be financed by a Scaife grant and subject to oversight by Medved and Dobson. (Yes, I switch the starting jobs for the future “thing” and “torch”. That’s prosaic license.)’
Ayn Clouter

Ayn rocks the place.

Next Up: They Dig Up the Body and Re-Enact the Resurrection

Undaunted by the « autopsy »,

Terri ‘Schiavo’s brain damage “was irreversible … no amount of treatment or rehabilitation would have reversed” it, said Jon R. Thogmartin, the pathologist in Florida’s sixth judicial district who performed the autopsy and announced his findings at a news conference in Largo, Fla. Still unknown is what caused Schiavo, 41, to lose consciousness on a winter morning in 1990. Her heart beat ineffectively for nearly an hour, depriving her brain of blood flow and oxygen. A study of her organs, fluids, bones and cells, as well as voluminous medical records, failed to support strangulation, beatings, a drug overdose, complications of an eating disorder or a rare molecular heart defect. All had been offered as theories over the past 15 years. Thogmartin said the cause will probably never be known. … The autopsy was performed the day after Schiavo died. It included 72 photographs of the outside of her body; 116 photographs of internal organs; 58 X-ray views before the autopsy and 28 during and after it — 274 images in all.’

« the Fascists refuse to give up the woman’s dead body », preferring to continue to use it as a political football.

‘Jeb Bush said Friday that a prosecutor has agreed to investigate why Terri Schiavo collapsed 15 years ago, citing an alleged time gap between when her husband found her and when he called 911. Bush said his request for the probe was not meant to suggest wrongdoing by Michael Schiavo. “It’s a significant question that during this ordeal was never brought up,” Bush told reporters.’

Of many outrages perpetrated in the last four-plus years, this ranks right up at the top. If there is a God, may He harshly judge these shameless, self-promoting, ignorant and hollow human beings. And I use that last term loosely.

On Memorial Day

On Memorial Day, I always think back to 1989, when as a newspaper reporter, I was privileged to meet a great group of heroes:

Memory Of WWII Still Vivid For Vets
(Part I of the Wake Island Story)

‘Considering the power accumulated for the invastion of Wake Island and the meager forces of the defenders, it was one of the most humiliating defeats the Japanese Navy ever suffered.’
—Masatake Okumiya, commander, Japanese Imperial Navy

By Steve Pollock
The Duncan (OK) Banner)
Sunday, August 13, 1989

MARLOW – It all came back to them this weekend – the stark terror of facing death while kneeling naked on a sandy beach the stinking hold of the prison ship; the brutality of the Japanese; the obliteration of youthful innocence.

They fought and bled for a two-and-a-half-square-mile horseshoe of an atoll in the midPacific called Wake Island. They were United States Marines and they did their duty.

There were 10 men of that Wake Island garrison at the Marlow home of John Smith this weekend. With Smith, they talked, drank and smoked their way through the weekend, laughter masking deeper emotions of brotherhood, camaraderie and painful memories.

In the Smith kitchen, their wives continued the latest of an ongoing series of therapy sessions, attempting to exorcise some of the demons of the last 44 years of their lives with the hometown heroes.

———

In 1941, with war inevitable, the U.S. government began construction of a series of defensive Pacific Ocean outposts, including Wake, designed to protect against Japanese aggression. They were a little late.

Little Wake atoll, with some 1,616 Marines and civilians huddled on its three islands, was attacked at noon, Dec. 8, 1941, several hours after Pearl Harbor.

The Marines knew war was possible, but “didn’t think the little brown guys had the guts to hit us,” one of them said.

———

Jess Nowlin’s hearing aid battery is getting a little weak as the afternoon wears on, but his memory and sense of humor are still sharp.

He said the Marines were going about their business when they heard the drone of approaching aircraft.

“We thought they were B- 17’s out of Pearl coming in to refuel. They weren’t. They broke out of a cloud bank at about 1,800 feet, bomb bay doors open. They tore us up,” Nowlin said.

The Japanese attacked from sea and air, but the Marines held out until Dec. 23; only 400 remained to defend 21 miles of shoreline from 25 warships and a fleet of aircraft. Surrender was inevitable.

Through a haze of cigarette smoke, Robert Mac Brown, a veteran not only of World War II, but of Korea and three tours of duty in Vietnam, remembers the post-surrender scene on the beach.

“We were stripped naked and they hog-tied us with our own telephone wire. A squall came through, but lasted only about 10 to 15 minutes. One of my clearest memories of the whole operation is of watching the water run down the bare back of the guy in front of me,” Brown said.

Japanese soldiers lay on the sand in front of the prisoners, swinging machine guns back and forth. The click of rounds being loaded into chambers was ominous. Fingers tightened on triggers.

“There was an argument between the landing force commander and a guy with the fleet. They screamed at each other in Japanese, arguing about whether to kill us or not,” Brown said.

The Marines made their peace and prepared to die.

The argument to make prisoners of the Marines and civilians won the day. The prisoners were allowed to grab what clothing they could to cover themselves.

And then a living hell began which would only be ended by the birth of atomic stars over southern Japan nearly four years later.

———

Taken off the island on small ships, the prisoners were forced to climb up the side of the Nittamaru, a former cruise ship pitching about on rough seas.

As the men walked back through the ship and down to the hold, the crew beat them with bamboo sticks, in a gauntlet of brutality.

Packed in the stinking hold, several hundred Marines and civilians had only one five-gallon bucket per deck to hold human waste. For the 14 days of the Nittamaru’s passage from Wake to Shanghai, they could barely move.

The cold of Shanghai was felt through their thin tropical khaki. It was January 1942. Robert Brown was to have married his girl on January 12. She married someone else.

“I thought you were dead,” she later told him.

———

From Shanghai, through Nanking, Peking, Manchuria and Pusan, Korea, the group journeyed in packed cattle cars to their eventual destination, a coal mine on the Japanese island of Hokkaido, where they dug in the shafts alongside third-generation Korean slave labor.

They were slaves themselves until August 1945.

“Thank God for Harry S. Truman and the atomic bomb,” several survivors said, as the others echoed that prayer.

They went home to heroes’ welcomes, but the public ”’never fully appreciated or understood what we did,” Nowlin said.

———

They’re much older now — in their 60’s and 70’s — and it was a family reunion of sorts; they claim to be closer than brothers. They don’t miss their “get-togethers” for anything in the world; Robert Haidinger traveled from San Diego with a long chest incision after recently undergoing a major operation.

As they gazed through the Oklahoma sunshine, they didn’t see the cow bam beyond the lovegrass rippling in the August breeze; it was a Japanese destroyer was steaming close in to end their lives all over again.

“It was awful, terrible; I wouldn’t have missed it for anything; you couldn’t get me to do it again for a billion dollars,” Nowlin summed it up.

———

The men: Tony Obre, Fallbrook, Calif; Robert Haidinger, San Diego, Calif.; Robert Murphy, Thermopolis, Wyo.; Dale Milburn, Santa Rosa, Calif.; George McDaniels, Dallas, Texas; Jess Nowlin, Bonham, Texas; Jack Cook, Golden, Colo.; Robert Mac Brown, Phoenix, Ariz.; Jack Williamson, Lawton; Paul Cooper, Marlow, and John Smith, Marlow.

The cost of the defense of Wake Island, from Dec. 8 to 23, 1941: Americans: 46 Marines, 47 civilians, three sailors and 11 airplanes; Japanese: 5,700 men, 11 ships and 29 airplanes.

Holding Down the Home Front

Wives Cope With Husband’s Memories
(Part II of the Wake Island Story)

By Steve Pollock
The Duncan (OK) Banner
Sunday, August 13, 1989

MARLOW – It all came back to them this weekend – fists lashing out during nightmares, the traumatic memories, the attempts to catch up on lost time.

The wives of 10 Wake Island survivors met in Marlow with their husbands this weekend for reasons of their own.

“We go through therapy every time we get together. We help each other with problems,” they said.

The wives: Florence Haidinger, Maxine Murphy, Opal Milburn, Irene McDaniels, Sarah Nowlin, Betty Cook, Millie Brown, Jo Williamson, Juanita Cooper and Marie Smith.

———

They did their own bit during World War II: The Red Cross, an airplane factory in Detroit, North American Aviation in El Segundo, Calif, Douglas in Los Angeles, the Kress dime store.

They married their men after the long national nightmare was finished, and their lives became entwined by one event: the Japanese attack on Wake Island Dec. 8-23,1941.

Since the first reunion of Wake survivors and their spouses in 1953, these women have been like sisters.

“We love each other, we’re closer than family,” Jo Williamson said.

In Marie Smith’s kitchen, therapy was doled out in a catharsis of talk little different from that of the men gathered on the patio. Talk is said to be good for the soul; these women heal great tears in theirs every time they see each other.

According to the wives, the men came home from the war, married, had children and tried to pick up where they left off.

They wanted to take care of their families and try to catch up. They were robbed of the fun times of their late teens and early 20’s, the women unanimously agree.

“They have also lived every day as if it were their last,” Sarah Nowlin said.

———

The men needed some help after their harrowing battle and brutal three -and-a-half-year captivity.

According to the women, doctors never realized therapy was in order: “They never got anything.”

One man lashed out with his fists during nightmares; after a few pops, his wife learned to leave the room. Another would slide out of bed and assume a rigid posture on the floor, arms and legs folded. Yet they have all been gentle men.

“I’ve never seen my husband harm or even verbally abuse anyone,” a wife said Reunions such as this help the men and women deal with life as they age. The youths of 16-22 are now grandfathers and grandmothers in their 60’s and 70’s.

———

Life today is a bit baffling to them.

Extremely proud of their men, the women have no patience with draft dodgers, flag burners, Japanese cars or foreign ownership of America.

They didn’t agree with the Vietnam war policy, but duty to country should have come first, they said.

“I didn’t want my son to go to Vietnam, but I would have been ashamed of him if he hadn’t,” one said.

The issue of flag burning stirs violent protest and emotion in the group: “Made in America”’ labels are on everything they buy.

And the younger generation does not enjoy the women’s confidence: “I don’t think they could do what we were all called on to do,” they agreed.

And as Marlow afternoon shadows grew longer, the women of Wake continued to cleanse their souls.

Remembering Kent State

Author Philip Caputo had an interesting interview with Fresh Air’s Terry Gross that I caught the other day at lunch. And the NPR website has « an interesting section featuring Caputo’s writing on the Kent State shootings » on the 35th anniversary:

‘The hill slopes down in a sweep of green to a green field. That must be the practice field where the Guardsmen knelt and fired with their World War II M-1 rifles. It is quite peaceful today, empty, banal. Below, I spot what appears to be a marker, walk to it, and discover that it’s merely a piece of sculpture. Somewhat frustrated, I climb back up and ask a student, “Is the memorial around here?” “Right over there,” he says, pointing at a clump of trees. It is unobtrusive to say the least, almost covert, hidden under a grove of oaks and maples: a marble tablet set in the ground near some marble slabs that, I guess, serve as benches. The sole decorations are a few artificial flowers bound with pink and purple ribbon, a foil pinwheel that turns lazily in the breeze, the blades silver on one side, painted with the stars and stripes on the other. Its modesty seems deliberate, as if it commemorated a dark secret, like the gravestone of a relative who shamed the family. The tablet is covered with dead leaves, which I brush off to read the chiseled legend:

IN LOVING MEMORY
Allison Krause
Jeffrey Miller
Sandra Scheuer
William Schroeder

RESPECTFULLY REMEMBERED
Alan Canfora
John Cleary
Thomas Grace
Dean Kahler
Joseph Lewis
Donald Mackenzie
James Russell
Robby Stamps
Douglas Wrentmore

‘For all its uninspiring nature, it is a kind of war memorial, honoring the casualties of the day when the Vietnam War came home.’

It’s a fascinating look at a period which is still a fresh wound on the nation’s soul.

V-E Day Video

Here on the 60th anniversary of VE Day, I’m watching two films, Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph des Willens and the Criterion version of the French film Nacht und Nebel.

The first is the face that the Germans wanted to present to the world, the second is of the reality. Both are quite shattering, especially Nacht und Nebel, which pulls no punches in its imagery and which is not for the faint-hearted or weak-stomached.

Both documentaries should be viewed by all for purposes of ‘never again!’

But we live in an empire where our fellow citizens are being purged from churches because of political dissent.

Humans never learn. Never again? No.

Inevitably again.

Church Purge Confirmed

And now there’s confirmation in the mainstream press about a « North Carolina church’s purge of Democrats »:

‘Some in Pastor Chan Chandler’s flock wish he had a little less zeal for the GOP. Members of the small East Waynesville Baptist Church say Chandler led an effort to kick out congregants who didn’t support … Bush. Nine members were voted out at a Monday church meeting in this mountain town, about 120 miles west of Charlotte. … “He’s the kind of pastor who says do it my way or get out,” said Selma Morris, the former church treasurer. “He’s real negative all the time.” … 40 others in the 400-member congregation resigned in protest after Monday’s vote. During the presidential election last year, Chandler told the congregation that anyone who planned to vote for Democratic Sen. John Kerry should either leave the church or repent, said former member Lorene Sutton. Some church members left after Chandler made his ultimatum in October, Morris said.’

I’m no lawyer, but I’d say this church will stand on the Supreme Court’s decision to allow the Boy Scouts to exclude whoever they want under freedom of association and that no one will challenge their tax-exempt status (or at least be successful at it).

It will be interesting to see if this spreads. If it does, we’ll at least be able to see which churches walk the walk of Christ and which ones walk the walk of the Pharisees.

Democrats Purged From North Carolina Church

« WLOS », an ABC affiliate in western North Carolina, is reporting interesting news:

‘Religion and Politics Clash: Religion and politics clash over a local church’s declaration that Democrats are not welcome. East Waynesville Baptist asked nine members to leave. Now 40 more have left the church in protest. Former members say Pastor Chan Chandler gave them the ultimatum, saying if they didn’t support George Bush, they should resign or repent. The minister declined an interview with News 13. But he did say “the actions were not politically motivated.” There are questions about whether the bi-laws were followed when the members were thrown out. (posted at 7:30am, 5/6/05)’

Unconfirmed, unsubstantiated talk on the ‘net is that WLOS produced a report in which ‘several elderly church members’ were interviewed and that they ‘all confirmed that the preacher has been after them to support Bush since October and that if they voted for John Kerry they supported abortion and gay marriage.’

We’ll see if this one gets better sourced later today.

Soulforce for Good

Every once in a while, there’s a ray of sunshiney hope that pierces the gathering gloom that is life in the Christo-Fascist Empire. This time, it’s « Soulforce’s Mel White and 500 others protesting at the gates of the citadel of Fascist FunDumbMentalism »:

‘At least 500 people braved spitting snow showers and cutting wind Sunday outside Focus on the Family’s headquarters to protest the group’s campaign against homosexual rights and same-sex marriage. “We are here to say, Jim, we love you enough to stop you from doing the damage you are doing to families across the nation,” said Mel White, executive director of Soulforce, a national interfaith organization that supports gay rights and is supported by roughly 100 churches and groups. White was referring to James Dobson, leader of Focus on the Family, a conservative Christian ministry group that actively campaigns against homosexual rights. Speaking to the crowd that included gay and lesbian couples, families and children, White called Focus on the Family “a toxic religion zone.”’

Amen! Thank you, Mel White and all the others who dared to stand up to the FFs and call them on their hatred and un-Christian fascism.

Still, things did get extremely weird, apparently:

‘A small group from the anti-gay Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kan., protested Focus on the Family for being gay-friendly because it encourages gays and lesbians to become heterosexual.’

Good lord. Maybe I should say something about the ‘enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ but … well, ick.

But good on yer, Mel White!

Heil Benedict!

So, a few days after the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Konzentrationslagers Ravensbrueck and Buchenwald, and on the anniversary of Waco and Oklahoma City, 117 men in red dresses have decided to elect as Pope a former member of the Hitler Jugend who also helped man Volksturm anti-aircraft batteries at the end of World War II.

But it’s all apparently okay, ‘cause everybody was doing it, they had to, don’tchaknow, and he just had to, and besides he was signed up without his knowledge and then he refused to go to meetings and well, firing Krupp cannon at American Eighth Air Force B-17s in order to protect a BMW plant which used slave labor from Kl Dachau was just apparently a youthful indiscretion and maybe there was some big ol’ nasty Nazi holding a gun to his head, making him aim right. Oh and then there is that rabbi who was trotted out to proclaim that the good Cardinal had worked miracles for Jewish-Catholic relations over the last few decades (Pope Pius XII’s reign wasn’t brought up).

And then this hardline orthodox Catholic ex-Nazi who has since 1981 headed up the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, formerly known until 1908 as the Holy Office of the Inquisition, chose the name ‘Benedict’ in homage to a Pope who tried to soften the strictures of his predecessor, who had declared war on ‘Modernism.’

Then to top things off, we hear that 24 hours before becoming Pope, he declared war on any ‘isms’ (although Fascism wasn’t mentioned) which state that truth is relative:

‘On Monday, Ratzinger, who was the powerful dean of the College of Cardinals, used his homily at the Mass dedicated to electing the next pope to warn the faithful about tendencies that he considered dangers to the faith: sects, ideologies like Marxism, liberalism, atheism, agnosticism and relativism — the ideology that there are no absolute truths.’

San Francisco Chronicle

A question, sir: If there are only absolute truths, were you, Pope Benedict XVI, a Hitler Jugend or not? According to history, you joined the HJ, you took the oath to Hitler. And what’s this Inquisition business?

Unfortunately, I think it’s too late to ask the Pope, now that he’s Pope, if he swore an oath of personal allegiance to Adolf Hitler.

That would be a faux pas and simply isn’t done. It’s kind of like asking Justice Scalia if he sodomizes his wife.

Oh well. Let’s look on the bright side. Now we can call the Pope a Nazi and it’s neither mere hyperbole nor verboten under that ridiculous Godwin’s Law.

Could be fun.

Deathbed Dollars

While we’re all a bit tired of poor Terri Schiavo (let her rest in peace), I say we keep screaming about this one and hang it squarely on the Fascist FunDumbMentalists’ heads … like a flaming rubber tire. They are, after all, not shy about using a vegetable for their political purposes, as we’ll see in a moment.

But it’s important to note first that Chief Florida Fascist Jeb Bush’s own DCF produced report after report that found « no evidence of vegetable abuse »:

‘In the four years after Michael Schiavo won the right to remove his wife’s feeding tube, the state’s social welfare agency investigated 89 complaints of abuse but never found that he or anybody else harmed Terri Schiavo, records released late Friday show. The state Department of Children and Families repeatedly concluded that Michael Schiavo ensured his wife’s physical and medical needs were met, provided proper therapy for her and had no control over her money. They also found no evidence that he beat or strangled her, as his detractors have repeatedly charged. The 45 pages of confidential abuse reports made public by court order show that despite the litany of complaints, investigators never found that Terri Schiavo had been abused. That raises what Michael Schiavo’s attorney said is a key question: Why, during her last weeks of life, did DCF twice try to intervene in the seven-year dispute between Terri Schiavo’s husband and her parents?

’”The answer is obvious,” said attorney Hamden Baskin III. “From the get-go, this was nothing but a political intervention. There was and continues to be no reason for them to have been involved.”

Washington Post [Emphasis added]

Of course it was a political intervention. In fact, « it’s simply a case of using someone’s deathbed to beg for dollars »:

‘During the weeks preceding Terri Schiavo’s death, a number of radical right wing Christian fundamentalist groups stepped up to take full advantage of what the Traditional Values Coalition’s (TVC) Rev. Lou Sheldon characterized as a “blessing…to the conservative Christian movement in America.” Established organizations like the TVC, relative newcomers like RightMarch.com, and newly formed coalitions, like Voice for Terri, had their Web sites sizzling with news of the case and extensive fundraising appeals. Prior to Terri’s death on Thursday, March 31, her parents had apparently agreed to sell the names and e-mail addresses of donors to and supporters of their daughter’s case to Response Unlimited, a right wing direct mail house. However, within 20 hours of David Kirkpatrick’s March 29 New York Times piece exposing the arrangement, Response Unlimited withdrew Schindler’s list from its catalogue. Before removing the list from its web site, the Waynesboro, Virginia-based Response Unlimited (website) headed by Philip Zodhiates, was asking $150/month for 6,000 names and $500/month for 4,000 e-mail addresses of people who responded last month to an e-mail plea from Terri Schiavo’s father, the Times reported. Advertising the list’s availability and fundraising potential on its website the firm said: “These compassionate pro-lifers donated toward Bob Schindler’s legal battle to keep Terri’s estranged husband from removing the feeding tube from Terri.” The selling point was that the people on the list “are passionate about the way they value human life, adamantly oppose euthanasia and are pro-life in every sense of the word!”

’… In a few months, when the Terri Schiavo case has drifted into the ether inhabited by such cultural cataclysms as the Elian Gonzalez case, those who sent money or a supportive message to the Terri Schindler-Schiavo Foundation will discover that they’ve made Schindler’s list. Their e-mail boxes and snail-mail boxes will be stuffed by a host of appeals from organizations pushing everything from the privatization of Social Security to school vouchers to an anti-gay-marriage amendment to the constitution.’

Media Transparency

Truly a sordid, disgusting and black time in the Empire.

Sad thing is, it’s only the beginning.

Duly Noted

According to World Health Organization figures, on the same day that Terri Schiavo died and so-called Christians mourned her so-called ‘murder,’ 6,000 other human beings died from vaccine-preventable diseases including diphtheria, measles, polio, tetanus, pertussis, hepatitis B, Hib and yellow fever, because they and the countries they live in are too poor to afford the vaccines.

RIP Teresa Wright

PicOfTeresaWright

Truly terrible and depressing news: one of my all-time favorite actresses, « Teresa Wright, passed away Sunday »:

’« Teresa Wright », the willowy actress who starred opposite Gary Cooper and Marlon Brando and won a supporting Academy Award in 1942 for “Mrs. Miniver,” has died. She was 86. Wright died Sunday of a heart attack at Yale-New Haven Hospital in Connecticut, her daughter, Mary-Kelly Busch, told The Associated Press on Tuesday.

‘Wright’s career skyrocketed after her first film, “The Little Foxes,” which brought her an Oscar nomination as best supporting actress of 1941. The following year she was honored with two nominations: lead actress as the wife of Lou Gehrig in “The Pride of the Yankees” and supporting actress as Greer Garson’s daughter-in-law in the wartime saga “Mrs. Miniver.” She also starred in three other classics: Alfred Hitchcock’s “Shadow of a Doubt” in 1943; Brando’s first film, “The Men,” in 1950; and the multiple Oscar winner “The Best Years of Our Lives” in 1946.’

She was one of the main reasons Mrs. Miniver, Shadow of a Doubt and The Best Years of Our Lives are three of my all-time favorite movies. TBYOOL is, in fact, my favorite movie of all-time, period. I shall have to watch all three tomorrow night, in a Teresa Wright Memorial Requiem Marathon. (Yes, I’m a sentimental old fool.)

It’s very sad that all of the Golden Age’rs are passing, leaving us with the talentless, vapid, ignorant and self-absorbed near-’hos that pass for Hollywood ‘talent’ these days.

I’ve said several times lately that there is no justice in the world (or maybe I was just born like 40 years too late): Katharine Hepburn, Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant and now Teresa Wright are dead, but Nicole Kidman, Russell Crowe, Gwyneth Paltrow, Tom Cruise and Jude Law are still running around loose.

Wherever you are, Ms. Wright, thank you for your wonderful work. You will be sorely missed. Rest in peace.

Air Jesus Drops Bombs on Tolerance

Media Transparency has a fascinating, interesting and ultimately pretty frightening expos´ posted — « Air Jesus: The Evangelical Air Force »:

‘For five days inside the Anaheim Convention Center, from February 11-16, the NRB’s attendees conducted business as if they were huddled in the catacombs of Rome rather than welcomed guests at a self-contained suburban city of paisley-carpeted hotels, all-you-can-eat buffets and climate-controlled conference halls directly across the street from Disneyland. Indeed, when McDonald asked attendees for a show of hands in affirmation of his question, nearly every hand in the room shot up.

‘It might seem ironic for McDonald to invoke the spectre of persecution at the convention of a group that represents the interests of 1700 broadcasters and which enjoys unfettered access to congressional Republicans and the White House. The NRB’s influence was best summarized by its new CEO, Frank Wright, who, in describing a recent lobbying excursion to Capitol Hill, said, “We got into rooms we’ve never been in before. We got down on the floor of the Senate and prayed over Hillary Clinton’s desk.” Wright went on to rally support for the NRB’s handpicked candidate for FCC commissioner, whom he refused to name, and rail against federal hate crime legislation because, “Calls for tolerance are often a subterfuge when everything will be tolerated except Christian truth.” [Emphasis added]

Media Transparency

Further down in the article, there’s a passage about the evil, power-hungry genius behind it all:

‘On Friday evening a crowd of a few dozen fawning followers and activists gathered to meet Dobson and his 20-something son, Ryan, in a stuffy conference room decked out like a VFW hall, replete with red, James Dobson and his son Ryan prepare for Ping Pong battle at the National Religious Broadcasters’ confereence in Anaheim white and blue ribbons and furnished with ping-pong tables and a hot dog stand. The only thing that kept me from believing I had walked through a time warp to the 1950s was an announcement by a guy in a striped referee jersey that Dobson and son would give iPods to the two contestants deemed suitable to face them in ping-pong. Before the games began, the referee sat on a stool next to Dobson and son for an informal discussion of some of their favorite topics: family, culture, and the homosexual agenda. Dobson was uncharacteristically reticent during the event, seated in a hunched posture and speaking only when spoken to.

‘He did not seem anything like the kingmaker who answered a post-election thank you call from the White House by demanding that Bush get “more aggressive” or “pay a price in four years.” Nor did he seem like the draconian uber-dad who, in his best-selling parenting handbook, “Dare to Discipline,” advised parents to spank their children with “sufficient magnitude to cause the child to cry genuinely.” One of few times Dobson spoke out of turn was to make a clarification he had apparently wanted to issue for some time. “I did not say SpongeBob was gay,” Dobson told the crowd, responding to media ridicule of his attack on the popular cartoon character: “All I said was he was part of a video produced by a group with strong linkages to the homosexual community that’s teaching things like tolerance and diversity. And you can see where they’re going with that. They’re teaching kids to think different about homosexuality.”’

Of course, ‘think different’ means ‘don’t beat, bash, stone, kill, torture, discriminate against, use as political pawns or otherwise molest gay and lesbian Amurricans,’ but poor Jimmy D. thinks that’s all okay. It is, after all, supposedly in the Bible.

And it is, after all, part and parcel of the next big Culture War « battle on tolerance and diversity — UNC Front »:

‘A federal court has ordered the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill to reinstate a Christian fraternity which had been denied recognition because its officers refused to sign the university’s nondiscrimination policy requiring the group to allow homosexuals to join. The preliminary injunction, issued by U.S. District Court Judge Frank W. Bullock Junior, will permit Alpha Iota Omega access to student funds and university facilities, like other fraternities on campus. The order will remain in force until the issue of compliance with the university’s policy against discrimination is settled, most likely in court. “This is the first battle in the lawsuit, and we are victorious in that sense,” said Joshua Carden, an attorney with the Alliance Defense Fund, the Arizona-based organization representing the fraternity.’

— Pandagon.net

Hey, how ‘bout that Activist Judge Legislating from the Bench? [crickets chirping]

Update: « Alternet has an extensive investigative piece » on a shadowy group, the Council for National Policy, which features all the usual suspects from Pat Robertson to Tom Delay, that is at the forefront of the Culture War. If the Anaheim meeting mentioned above represented the Air Jesus Air Force, the CNP can certainly be characterized as the Black Ops Army.

The ONE Campaign

New on the blogroll: « The ONE Campaign »:

‘The ONE Campaign is a new effort to rally Americans to fight the emergency of global AIDS and extreme poverty. Through The ONE Campaign, each ONE of us can make a difference. Together as ONE we can change the world.’

Go and sign the petition and help out in any way you can.

Disclaimer and Copyright

Except where noted by quotes and italics, all content is written, edited and issues forth from the feverish and fertile mind of AirBeagle. © 1999-2005, Some Rights Reserved. Licensed under a Creative Commons licensing scheme.

Eric Blair, Laughing His Ass Off in His Grave

Yeesh. I go away for awhile and come back just in time to read « the most hypocritical, outrageous lies ever spoken by the Boy Emperor »

‘Referring to Putin’s recent steps to consolidate power, roll back democratic reforms and curb press and political freedoms, Bush said: “We must always remind Russia that our alliance stands for a free press, a vital opposition, the sharing of power and the rule of law. The United States should place democratic reform at the heart of their dialogue with Russia,” he said in his speech.’

SF Chronicle

Actually, Amurrica’s ‘free press’ consists of bribed propagandists and closeted fascist homosexuals who would have made Ernst Roehm blush; the opposition’s vitals are hanging out all over the place; power is hoarded not shared; the rule of law means nothing in the face of Konzentrationslagers Guantanamo Bay and Abu Ghraib and the ascension of torture-apologists and enablers Alberto Gonzalez and John Negroponte; and democratic reform will not begin until the moment in 2009 when the Emperor shuffles off to Crawford for a permanent brush-clearing gig (or at least we can still hope).

Note to the Emperor: Christ (you know the one … Jesus, the hero who changed your heart) said not to try to take a speck out of your neighbor’s eye when you’ve got a board in your own. Let’s tend to the veritable forest in our own baby blues and leave Pooty-Poot alone, shall we? There’s a good lad.

Blows Keep Falling

Sad news tonight: Following the deaths of « Arthur Miller », « Sandra Dee » and « John Raitt » comes the biggest blow: « Hunter S. Thompson » apparently shot himself:

‘Hunter S. Thompson, the acerbic counterculture writer who popularized a new form of fictional journalism in books like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, fatally shot himself Sunday night at his home, his son said. He was 67. “Hunter prized his privacy and we ask that his friends and admirers respect that privacy as well as that of his family,” Juan Thompson said in a statement released to the Aspen Daily News. Pitkin County Sheriff Bob Braudis, a personal friend of Thompson, confirmed the death to the News. Sheriff’s officials did not return calls to The Associated Press late Sunday. Juan Thompson found his father’s body.’

SF Chronicle

The loss of Raitt and even Dee is sad, but the losses of Miller and Thompson are simply huge.

But that’s life in the Empire these days: Towering figures of great value like these two, not to mention Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant, etc., are all dead and we’re left with the likes of Judith Miller, that Guckert/Gannon fellow and Nicole Kidman and Johnny Depp.

In other words, as they said in August 1914: ‘The lights are going out all over [America]; I’m afraid they won’t be lit again in our lifetime.’

R.I.P.

Spongedob Stickypants Strikes North

Not content to run roughshod within the Empire, « jack-booted Fascist FunDumbMentalists are mounting a hard-core press to export hatred and discrimination to Canada »:

‘American evangelists are urging Canadians to oppose same-sex marriage. The anti-gay groups are using Christian broadcasters to spread the message. Earlier this week, James Dobson, chairman of the Colorado-based Focus on the Family, in a broadcast heard on 130 radio stations across Canada denounced the government of Prime Minister Paul Martin which will bring in a same-sex marriage bill next week. “Your prime minister, Paul Martin, has recently done things to subvert the will of the people,” Dobson said. “It is clear here in the United States that the American people do not want same-sex marriage,” Dobson continued. “I would hope that Canadians who also do not want same-sex marriage would be encouraged by what has happened down here.” Dobson told listeners that same-sex marriage is not a human rights issue and that passing such a law would destroy the institution of marriage and undermine society. Dobson concluded his broadcast by calling on Canadians to pray on the issue and to donate money to Focus on the Family.’ [Emphasis mine]

365Gay.com

Note that key last sentence there: Evil Dr. Dobson, known around the blogosphere as SpongeDob Stickypants, is exporting good ol’ American imperial fear and ignorance to Canada in order to soak up more money.

What a greedy, avaricious, disgusting, evil and immoral jackass.

Hey, Canada! Amurrica may be permanently asleep, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t wake up and recognize the menace on your southern border.

The empire has people like Spongedob and Ann Coulter, who recently said that Canadians ‘better hope the United States doesn’t roll over one night and crush them. They are lucky we allow them to exist on the same continent.’

Wake up, Maple Leaf! You have a very serious problem on your southern flank.

RIP Shirley Chisholm and Robert Matsui

The bad news continues to pour in as the Republic lay dying: « Shirley Chisholm passes at age 80 »:

‘Chisholm, who took her seat in the U.S. House in 1969, was a riveting speaker who often criticized Congress as being too clubby and unresponsive. An outspoken champion of women and minorities during seven terms in the House, she also was a staunch critic of the Vietnam War. Details of her death on Saturday were not immediately available. She was 80. … “My greatest political asset, which professional politicians fear, is my mouth, out of which come all kinds of things one shouldn’t always discuss for reasons of political expediency,” she told voters. … “She was a mouthpiece for the underdog, the poor, underprivileged people, the people who did not have much of a chance,” 88-year-old Conrad Chisholm told the AP early Monday from West Palm Beach. Once discussing what her legacy might be, Shirley Chisholm commented, “I’d like them to say that Shirley Chisholm had guts. That’s how I’d like to be remembered.”’

AP

Speaking from one big mouth to another: God rest you, Ms. Chisholm; your kind will be sorely missed.

Also passing this weekend: « California Congressman Robert Matsui », a survivor of America’s WWII konzentrationslagers:

‘Matsui, who headed his party’s unsuccessful campaign to retake the House in the November election and who was expected to play a key role in debates on changing Social Security in the new Congress that opens Tuesday, died Saturday night at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Md., a Washington suburb. … Matsui, a slight, soft-spoken and affable native of Sacramento born just 2 1/2 months before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, had entered the Bethesda hospital on Dec. 24 with pneumonia. One of the nation’s most influential Asian American politicians, he had kept publicly quiet about his illness and had been active in the Social Security debate until his hospitalization. … The third-generation American’s concern with helping the marginalized probably stemmed from his experiences as an infant, when he was sent to the Tule Lake camp in far Northern California along with his family. His father was forced to give up his produce business in Sacramento when the family was interned for more than three years.”

SF Chronicle

Meanwhile, Social Security destruction is on the Emperor’s agenda and shrill fascist voices on the right are calling for American muslims to be rounded up into 21st century American konzentrationslagers.

Shirley Chisholm and Bob Matsui are dead and the fat, happy, snarky and bribed uber-fascists still infest the Congress. There is no divine justice on this earth.

Sad. Two more nails in the coffin of the Republic.

Northwest 33, Service From Amsterdam to … Hell!

The airline industry’s … further descent into anarchy, let’s say … continued this week. This time, a « 28-hour ordeal on Northwest flight 33 » shows that things are all higgledy-piggledy in the air:

‘In an ordeal that made some passengers feel like hostages, about 300 people aboard an Amsterdam-to-Seattle flight were delayed for 18 hours on the ground, unable to leave the plane for much of that time, as food and water ran out and the toilets stopped working. Northwest Airlines Flight 33 finally arrived at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport on Wednesday morning, 28 hours after takeoff, after being held up by a nightmarish combination of fog, work regulations and mechanical trouble.’

Oh well, Amurrican Imperial in-’security’ efforts already made the passengers feel like criminal-terrorists, so they might as well have added ‘hostage’ to complete the experience.

The details of NW33 aren’t pretty:

‘Heavy fog had prevented the flight from landing in Seattle as scheduled Tuesday afternoon, forcing the pilot to circle the airport until fuel ran low. The plane was then diverted to an airport in Moses Lake, Wash., where it sat on the runway for hours as another crew was sent from Minnesota. The airline has regulations on how many consecutive hours crew members are permitted to work. The flight from Minnesota was delayed because of mechanical problems. After the new crew arrived, Flight 33 had to wait again because of bad weather. Food and water ran short, and the toilets stopped working as the hours dragged on.’

Notice that little phrase ‘the airline has regulations’ about crew rest. The truth is that it’s the FAA (not the airlines and not the unions/workers that the media loves to bash these days whenever anything goes wrong up there) that sets crew rest requirements. It usually takes the unions keeping after the FAA to make the airlines live up to their legal obligations.

And now Northwest will certainly be foisting off responsibility for this one on the evil, evil workers who made the poor, poor passengers sit there for 18 hours so the crew could go off to a hotel and drink and have illicit sex.

Okay, so they don’t say that, but that’s the subtext of these things.

It’s like the other day when Imperial Transport Minister Mineta announced the feds would investigate airlines to see if they were living up to the promises they made five years ago (of course they’re not) … the media, within just a few hours, turned that into ‘the feds will be investigating all those commie bastard USAirways workers in Philadelphia who called in ‘sick’ and screwed Christmas up for everyone.’

Ain’t the 21st century grand?

On the Casualty Lists

I don’t have a content management system for airbeagle.org, which is where I keep a tally of those sacrificed to the extremist political ideology of the Bush administration. So there is no way to leave comments over there. (You can certainly leave them here on airbeagle.us, however, if you have something to say about the lists. You can also « use the Contact page » to send me an e-mail.)

In the year-and-a-half I’ve been following the casualty lists, I have received many e-mails and comments which are unanimously supportive of keeping a list of the casualties, including several from family and friends of slain soldiers. I have never received a negative comment or e-mail.

Tonight, however, I received an e-mail from a grieving mother, whose fear, anger and bitterness shines between the lines.

Interestingly, for a mother who just lost a son in the mess in Iraq, she, unlike other families who write me, is an obvious Bush fan and, just as obviously, is one of the crowd that, just as during the Vietnam War, believes dissent is treason and that soldiers died to protect lazy hippies’ right to protest. What is implied by that kind of statement is, of course, a certain bitterness that a soldier would die on a foreign battlefield so that a disgusting subhuman back home could express an odious and unAmerican opinion.

My position is that I appreciate the sacrifices of all soldiers in America’s wars over the last two centuries. And I firmly believe that when they sign up for the armed forces, they know that their job is to fight and possibly die for ALL Americans, even those who are beneath contempt, for minorities, for those with unpopular views, for all races, for all creeds, for all religions, for all social classes.

As a soldier, you don’t get to pick the speech you fight and die to protect. You don’t get to say, “I’m a Republican, so I’m here in Vietnam only to fight for the rights of Republicans to support Richard Nixon.” Nope. You’re there for the naked gay hippies smoking crack in Golden Gate Park who will vote for George McGovern too.

And if you and your family can’t accept that reality, perhaps, well, perhaps you should consider a different line of service to your country. One of Bush’s faith-based charities, for instance.

I realize, of course, I’m sounding a bit harsh. But I’m a bit tired of the snarkiness in that kind of attitude, to be perfectly honest.

Look folks. We are ALL Americans. We are ALL equal. We pay taxes that support things we don’t necessarily agree with. My home-schooling sister’s family pays taxes to support public education, which is full of satan worshippers in her opinion. I pay taxes which get squandered for corporate welfare for the likes of Halliburton and SBC and Wal-Mart and Boeing, and I hate that.

But guess what. That’s America. Out of many, one. Live and let live. It’s far from perfect, but better than anything else that’s been tried.

Some would say a casualty list shouldn’t be politicized. I’m always gobsmacked by that concept. People! Terrorism and war ARE political! They are the ultimate politics!

3,000 died on 11-Sep-01 because of a combination of politics and negligence. And thousands more are dead in Iraq because of politics, ignorance, neglect and willful malevolence.

The casualty lists ARE political, regardless of what we might wish them to be. It’s that simple.

Having said that, I grieve for Ms. Barkey. The loss of her son certainly must be leaving a huge hole in her life.

Which is sort of my whole point in keeping up with the casualties. These are men and women who were valuable and irreplaceable, both to the nation and to their families and friends. And while it’s too early to determine if they died in vain, we DO know they died for a lie told in the pursuit of an extremist political agenda.

And that’s wrong. It’s indecent. Immoral. Sinful. Wasteful.

Ms. Barkey and I certainly agree on one thing: her son was a hero. He had a job to do and he did it. More could not be asked of him.

I wish her peace and rest and healing and relief from her bitterness. And forgiveness for those who sent her son to his death with a callousness and disregard for him and his mother.

For the record, here’s her original e-mail and my reply:

On 21 Oct, 2004, at 23:20, Julie Barkey wrote:
‘My son was KIA on July 7th in iraq. His name was Michael C. Barkey. I don’t consider him part of Bush’s body count. He was a hero who died for your right to have this website
‘Freedom isn’t free. I would be terribly afraid for our country if John Kerry is elected.
‘Just thought I’d voice my own freedom of speech.
‘The biggest deterent to terroism is to give them a taste of freedom. That’s what the historic election in Afganistan has done and the what the Iraq election will do.
‘God Bless our Nation.
‘Julie Barkey’

And my reply:

‘Ms. Barkey,
I’m sorry for your loss and thank your son for his sacrifice. He was indeed a hero. Thank you for your comment.
‘Steve Pollock
‘AirBeagle.org
’”The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”
’- Franklin Delano Roosevelt’

Good night, y’all. Peace.

Same Old Story

« As news comes along that the first of several repressive anti-gay-family state amendments are already bearing fruit for the Fascist FunDumbMentalists », here’s an interesting article being reported tonight on the BBC:

‘American divorce reform planned
‘Changes in the law are opposed by the Republican party

‘The U.S. government says that it is planning to make changes in the country’s marriage laws to give women the right to divorce.

‘Under existing Christian Old Testament family and marriage laws, only men have the right to initiate divorce proceedings.

‘The Health and Human Services secretary said he was consulting other departments to make the changes.

‘The move has been strongly opposed by Christian parties and clerics and could face opposition within the government.

’”I have talked to the attorney general …,” HHS Secretary Tommy Thompson said, “and I am hoping that we would be able to make changes soon.”

‘America is a signatory to the UN Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women, relating to the rights of women and children rights.

‘Jerry Falwell, chief of the Moral Majority – a partner in the governing coalition – said the divorce change proposals would be contrary to Christianity.

’”This would be totally against the spirit of the Bible,” he said, “we will oppose this and all Christian pastors will oppose this.”

‘Mr. Falwell says that according to Christian law a woman can express her desire to her husband if she wants a divorce.

’”But it depends on the man whether he would allow his wife to get that divorce,” he said.

‘Mr. Falwell also said that they would resist any move to bring amendments to the family succession laws that could give equal rights to men and women over family property.

‘The BBC’s Shahriar Karim in Washington, D.C., says that those laws favour men over women after a parental death.

‘Our correspondent says that the government is not considering changes to family succession laws because existing Old Testament law is an obstacle.

‘Mr. Thompson said that successive governments had avoided tackling the issue for fear of hurting the religious sentiments of the majority Christian population.’

So much for separation of church and state, huh?

Oh.

No, wait … my mistake.

« Actually, the article says this »:

‘Bangladesh divorce reform planned
‘Changes in the law are opposed by Islamic parties

‘The government of Bangladesh says that it is planning to make changes in the country’s marriage laws to give women the right to divorce.

‘Under existing Islamic shariah family and marriage laws, only men have the right to initiate divorce proceedings.

‘The Women and Children Affairs minister said she was consulting other ministries to make the changes.

‘The move has been strongly opposed by Islamic parties and clerics and could face opposition within the government.

‘’Contrary to Islam’

’”I have talked to the law minister and also the social welfare minister,” the Women and Children Affairs Minister, Khurshid Jahan Haque said, “and I am hoping that we would be able to make changes soon.”

‘Bangladesh is a signatory to the UN Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women, relating to the rights of women and children rights.

‘Moulana Fazlul Huq Amini, chief of Islami Oikya Jote [IOJ] – a partner in the governing coalition – said the divorce change proposals would be contrary to Islam.

’”This would be totally against the spirit of Koran,” he said, “we will oppose this and all Islamic clerics will oppose this.”

‘Mr. Amini says that according to Islamic law a woman can express her desire to her husband if she wants a divorce.

’”But it depends on the man whether he would allow his wife to get that divorce,” he said.

‘Mr. Amini also said that they would resist any move to bring amendments to the family succession laws that could give equal rights to men and women over family property.

‘The BBC’s Shahriar Karim in Dhaka says that those laws favour men over women after a parental death.

‘Our correspondent says that the government is not considering changes to family succession laws because existing shariah law is an obstacle.

‘Ms. Haque said that successive governments had avoided tackling the issue for fear of hurting the religious sentiments of the majority Muslim population.’

Christian America. Still #2 behind Islamic Bangladesh in enforcing FunDumbMentalist law. But we’re trying ever so hard …

Compare/Contrast Time

As seen on « Daily Kos »:

What was on John F. Kerry’s chest:

KerryMedals5KerryMedals3
KerryMedals4KerryMedalsKerryMedals9
KerryMedals8KerryMedals7KerryMedalsb
KerryMedals6KerryMedals2KerryMedalsa

What was on the Boy Emperor’s [sullied] uniform:

BushMedalsBushMedals2

What was on the Dick Cheney’s uniform:

ZILCH

And for those of you, like me, who don’t know what they mean:

Kerry:
• Silver Star
• Bronze Star
• Purple Heart
• Combat Action Ribbon
• Presidential Unit Citation
• Navy Unit Commendation
• National Defense Service Medal
• Vietnam Service Medal
• Republic of Vietnam Gallantry Cross Unit Citation
• Republic of Vietnam Civil Actions Unit Citation
• Republic of Vietnam Campaign Medal

The Boy Emperor:
• Air Force Outstanding Unit Award
• Small Arms Expert Marksmanship Ribbon

The Dick Cheney:
• He got zilch ‘cause he got five deferments and ‘had other priorities’ and didn’t have a uniform to put it on.

Kerry’s medals are verified by his official service records. The Boy Emperor’s appear in a photograph of him wearing his uniform; there is a great deal of confusion about what he should or should not have been wearing. But, IF he was wearing them properly, it meant simply that he belonged to an outstanding unit and could shoot a gun. Wow.

Bob Dole (and you other Fascists): Bite me.