Reporter: What exactly is Mr. Obama doing about the health care problem?
Bob Gibbs: The president is currently hard at work on this huge problem. Fifty million Americans have no health insurance at all -- and who knows how many Americans have insurance that is so crappy they almost never use it! I mean, it's bad.
Reporter: Yes, but that wasn't the question.
Bob Gibbs: Oh, right. [Long pause] What was the question?
Reporter: What exactly is the president doing about the problem.
Bob Gibbs: Sure. He's doing all kinds of things. So many things I can't even keep up. But I can tell you that it is not just empty words and arm waving. It also includes lots and lots of bruxism.
Reporter: Really?
Bob Gibbs: Absolutely. Michelle can't sleep in the same room with him anymore. She says it sounds like someone trying to scratch out of their own coffin.
Reporter: Yeah, about that. Some guys in the Secret Service started a rumor that that's just Dick Cheney trying to freak them out.
Bob Gibbs: A rumor?
Reporter: It's unconfirmed but it could be true. Cheney's a bastard.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
She Turned Him Into A Newt (And He Didn't Get Better) Gingrich
Here's dinosaur who is attempting to scrape and scratch up out of the slime-pit of political irrelevance: Newt. He's a lizard of very little difference. The short version is that these guys like RL and Rupert Murdoch's Foxpack and Newt Grime-Grinch want to tar the Democrats with anything dark and sticky -- the truth be damned. They will even pull out ideas that are sixty years old, like McCarthyism. This last week Newt has been marshaling the stupid troops and attempting to fire up the base (is there an election anywhere in sight?) with all kinds of hate toward his political opponents -- yeah, I know, that's what politicians tend to do. No big whoop.
Unless. . . unless what? Obama is a socialist after all, right? Right? Er, left? Unless there is a giant problem with this whole notion of their being a political left anywhere in America.
See, words ought to mean something. If Newt or anybody else wants to attack Obama for being a socialist, there really ought to be some content to the term.
What Newt is trying to say is exceedingly simple (go figure). Obama is Lenin, or Stalin, or Satan. It's a lot of fun that he can say this and not say it at the same time. (He'd have his cake and eat it too but Rush ain't sharing any of the cake. Just look at that fat bastard, I mean, really, this stuff writes itself!) Using the real words would make it easier for us all to see how stupid this rancid Republican rhetoric really is. If Newt and the other GOP guppies were to say that Obama is about to make us the United Soviets of America, people might start to think about the alleged reality of this statement. That might lead to, you know, reading history . . . Think of the carnage!
Is there any fact to this assertion that Obama is attempting to usher in European socialism? Well, first, we have to put a few more words in Newt's mouth so we can get some sense out of the big dope. Newt seems to be saying by European socialism that we should think Marxism. That's socialism as in one of the esses in U.S.S.R. So the implication is clear: hate Obama or there go all your rights. You think it's bad now? Well, we could be having the same situation as they have in France or the UK -- they're socialists, right? I mean, England is part of Mother Russia, no? Um, no. Or, they're about to become pals of Putin, no? Um, well. You know.
Anybody who knows anything about history, or who has perhaps read Richard Pipes monumental book on the Russian Revolution can tell you that there was never any threat that communists (it means the same thing as socialist, technically) were about to take over the United States. Yeah, there were spies, but there was about to be a revolution in America. It was all paranoia. A war with Russia was more likely and that wasn't very likely, as history demonstrated.
Communism only ever took root in Russia and China. These places had a lot in common with each other and very little in common with America of the 1950s. As far as European socialism, whatever we decide that is, that too is unlikely to be traipsed in by Mr. Obama or anybody else. It would require our tax structure to be completely overhauled, and that is not about to happen anytime soon.
Not in the next four years, anyway. That's about as close to a guarantee as you can get in politics.
Unless. . . unless what? Obama is a socialist after all, right? Right? Er, left? Unless there is a giant problem with this whole notion of their being a political left anywhere in America.
See, words ought to mean something. If Newt or anybody else wants to attack Obama for being a socialist, there really ought to be some content to the term.
What Newt is trying to say is exceedingly simple (go figure). Obama is Lenin, or Stalin, or Satan. It's a lot of fun that he can say this and not say it at the same time. (He'd have his cake and eat it too but Rush ain't sharing any of the cake. Just look at that fat bastard, I mean, really, this stuff writes itself!) Using the real words would make it easier for us all to see how stupid this rancid Republican rhetoric really is. If Newt and the other GOP guppies were to say that Obama is about to make us the United Soviets of America, people might start to think about the alleged reality of this statement. That might lead to, you know, reading history . . . Think of the carnage!
Is there any fact to this assertion that Obama is attempting to usher in European socialism? Well, first, we have to put a few more words in Newt's mouth so we can get some sense out of the big dope. Newt seems to be saying by European socialism that we should think Marxism. That's socialism as in one of the esses in U.S.S.R. So the implication is clear: hate Obama or there go all your rights. You think it's bad now? Well, we could be having the same situation as they have in France or the UK -- they're socialists, right? I mean, England is part of Mother Russia, no? Um, no. Or, they're about to become pals of Putin, no? Um, well. You know.
Anybody who knows anything about history, or who has perhaps read Richard Pipes monumental book on the Russian Revolution can tell you that there was never any threat that communists (it means the same thing as socialist, technically) were about to take over the United States. Yeah, there were spies, but there was about to be a revolution in America. It was all paranoia. A war with Russia was more likely and that wasn't very likely, as history demonstrated.
Communism only ever took root in Russia and China. These places had a lot in common with each other and very little in common with America of the 1950s. As far as European socialism, whatever we decide that is, that too is unlikely to be traipsed in by Mr. Obama or anybody else. It would require our tax structure to be completely overhauled, and that is not about to happen anytime soon.
Not in the next four years, anyway. That's about as close to a guarantee as you can get in politics.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Crush Limbaugh
Blush Lameballs is at it again. No, wait -- he's always at it. He's been doing the same shtick for thirty years. But at the moment more people are paying attention to him. These are people who have probably paid some attention to him in the past, but just now in this time of crisis are anxious to see if any Famous People have Answers.
It's for this very reason that more of my acquaintances are listening to RL (Republican Lush); i.e., that there is an economic crisis afoot. This is precisely what the Fat One paradoxically denies existing. There is no crisis. Crisis, what crisis? We don't need no stinking crisis! Or was that Chrylers?
There's no economic crisis because Lameballs ate it: Crunch, Smack, Gulp! Hey skipper, where's Gilligan? In fact, I think the Fat One may have eaten the Professor and Mary Ann and the rest of them.
It's for this very reason that more of my acquaintances are listening to RL (Republican Lush); i.e., that there is an economic crisis afoot. This is precisely what the Fat One paradoxically denies existing. There is no crisis. Crisis, what crisis? We don't need no stinking crisis! Or was that Chrylers?
There's no economic crisis because Lameballs ate it: Crunch, Smack, Gulp! Hey skipper, where's Gilligan? In fact, I think the Fat One may have eaten the Professor and Mary Ann and the rest of them.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Welcome Back, Carter?
Heckuva Job, Obammy!
Can we finally now say that Obama MAY be something less than a political genius? Hilary Clinton certainly is and doesn't have the temperament to be a secretary of state. Of course, Warren Christopher didn't have the personality to be much of anything but a bean-counter, but that's history. But at LEAST Bill Clinton could have fired Christopher, whereas Obama is given the impossible task of deciding when to fire HC. She called North Korea a "hermit kingdom." That's pithy but sub par for her role. Meanwhile Bubba is on TV saying that Obama needs to smile more. What will the president do once HC cuts a real stinker? May I suggest grin and bear it?
But Bubba gave Obammy the thumbs up just a couple of days ago, declaring (Ah duh-CLARE!) that the prez was off to a crackin' good start. REEALLY? How's that? Did he not fail to say (words are cheap -- free, in fact) that he wanted to see Israelis draw down from Gaza, and that two states is the only solution? Did he not fail to get real government oversight baked into the stimulus package? Did he not fail to communicate convincingly how his and Geithner's plan was going to fix things, while succeeding to look like he was waffling and dithering and lost at sea? Er, oh yeah, he actually did that last one. Has he not failed to get his cabinet appointments properly vetted before they waltz out in front of God and everybody? Or do no good Democrats pay their frigging taxes?
I hope, unlike Blush Lameballs, that Obama can pull out of his early nosedive. Let's imagine it as a very steep learning curve. Otherwise he will look like that other brainy president we had who decided to get all casual and talk stupidly about the "moral equivalent of war." Wearing a cardigan is equivalent to declaring war on Brooks Brothers. That's a good thing, right? Right?! Anybody there? Well, it turned out that Carter was right about our need to conserve energy. We should've had a Prius in 1979. But Carter didn't know how to pick his words. A crisis, to Americans, is not something that is coming but something that is already here. And moral equivalents are a little more abstract than most of us are willing to get or are capable of getting, for that matter.
In short, Obama better learn WHAT to say. He has no trouble with words. The trouble is WHICH words. I'm sure Obama is much smarter than me, but I don't trust his judgment. That's too bad since I really like his ideals.
Can we finally now say that Obama MAY be something less than a political genius? Hilary Clinton certainly is and doesn't have the temperament to be a secretary of state. Of course, Warren Christopher didn't have the personality to be much of anything but a bean-counter, but that's history. But at LEAST Bill Clinton could have fired Christopher, whereas Obama is given the impossible task of deciding when to fire HC. She called North Korea a "hermit kingdom." That's pithy but sub par for her role. Meanwhile Bubba is on TV saying that Obama needs to smile more. What will the president do once HC cuts a real stinker? May I suggest grin and bear it?
But Bubba gave Obammy the thumbs up just a couple of days ago, declaring (Ah duh-CLARE!) that the prez was off to a crackin' good start. REEALLY? How's that? Did he not fail to say (words are cheap -- free, in fact) that he wanted to see Israelis draw down from Gaza, and that two states is the only solution? Did he not fail to get real government oversight baked into the stimulus package? Did he not fail to communicate convincingly how his and Geithner's plan was going to fix things, while succeeding to look like he was waffling and dithering and lost at sea? Er, oh yeah, he actually did that last one. Has he not failed to get his cabinet appointments properly vetted before they waltz out in front of God and everybody? Or do no good Democrats pay their frigging taxes?
I hope, unlike Blush Lameballs, that Obama can pull out of his early nosedive. Let's imagine it as a very steep learning curve. Otherwise he will look like that other brainy president we had who decided to get all casual and talk stupidly about the "moral equivalent of war." Wearing a cardigan is equivalent to declaring war on Brooks Brothers. That's a good thing, right? Right?! Anybody there? Well, it turned out that Carter was right about our need to conserve energy. We should've had a Prius in 1979. But Carter didn't know how to pick his words. A crisis, to Americans, is not something that is coming but something that is already here. And moral equivalents are a little more abstract than most of us are willing to get or are capable of getting, for that matter.
In short, Obama better learn WHAT to say. He has no trouble with words. The trouble is WHICH words. I'm sure Obama is much smarter than me, but I don't trust his judgment. That's too bad since I really like his ideals.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
My Bad
After checking some facts, light rail doesn't look all that great. It is rather inefficient, expensive to put in and unweildy. Buses aren't as sexy but they have much more flexible routs and actually make money for private companies even as we speak. When I lived in Detroit I rode buses frequently. They aren't convenient but they are reliable and would only be better if the government got involved with existing companies. Another thing that could be done is the government could order thousands of Priuses. These could be given to taxi companies in major cities at a reduced rate paid for over time. Let's consider how environmentally welcome these cars would be in Manhattan and LA. Hell, the government could raffle them off. The only catch is that Japan would have to build these in new plants in America. A last idea for those government billions Nancy Pelosi is going to fritter away: dedicated heavy rail lines could be set up for highspeed service between major hubs. Europe and Japan have this, we need it too. This would have all the benefits of employing thousands of Americans, improving infrastructure, and being cleaner than domestic airflight. I would ride one of these speedy things at least once a year. That is saying something since I don't fly ANYWHERE nearly that often. How could I afford it -- It's not like I work for the White House.
TL
TL
Monday, February 9, 2009
Obama Fix
Obama can fix this economy (to some degree) by executive order. He needs to get federal money to build light rail lines in as many of the one hundred cities across the country that are currently looking into projects or already have plans laid out. The only thing missing from the equation is cash. This would accomplish too things relatively quickly. The first is that it would put many Americans back to work. We need to find jobs for about four million people right now. Light rail would not do all of that over the long term. Most of the work would be in construction. Maintenance and operation would employ far fewer people but if we could employ some for two or three years it would be great. And it would help get other people to work more economically once the lines are up and running than is possible now. Plus we should not underestimate how much this would do for the environment.
These people as they work would have the cash to buy cars. With some help from the federal government the Big Three could be propped up to stave off an economic crash in this country and around the world. The American auto industry is also going to have to restructure itself to be leaner and more efficient, more competitive.
Obama will probably not even flirt with such a big idea because of his own personality. Incrementalism has been bred into every cell of his body. He has hand-picked all these Clintonians because to his core he believes in the third way, triangulation-strangulation. In short, getting nothing done through being neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm. I spew you out. If we want to change the world we are going to have to take SOME risks. I would love to be wrong about Obama but so far he has shown himself to be the guy who is not going to do anything foolish. That's too bad. I'm glad he isn't going to do any of the foolish stuff Bush did (it was ALL foolish, unless you happen to be a Kurd) but it would be cool if he would do some of the foolish things that FDR and TR did. Hell, I'd be cheered if he would try a couple of big foolish things. Instead we are going to get his kind eyes and firm handshake, his good heart and a heavy dose of Clintonian sticking to our knitting, which worked great in the Gay Nineties when we rode one bubble after another.
TL
These people as they work would have the cash to buy cars. With some help from the federal government the Big Three could be propped up to stave off an economic crash in this country and around the world. The American auto industry is also going to have to restructure itself to be leaner and more efficient, more competitive.
Obama will probably not even flirt with such a big idea because of his own personality. Incrementalism has been bred into every cell of his body. He has hand-picked all these Clintonians because to his core he believes in the third way, triangulation-strangulation. In short, getting nothing done through being neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm. I spew you out. If we want to change the world we are going to have to take SOME risks. I would love to be wrong about Obama but so far he has shown himself to be the guy who is not going to do anything foolish. That's too bad. I'm glad he isn't going to do any of the foolish stuff Bush did (it was ALL foolish, unless you happen to be a Kurd) but it would be cool if he would do some of the foolish things that FDR and TR did. Hell, I'd be cheered if he would try a couple of big foolish things. Instead we are going to get his kind eyes and firm handshake, his good heart and a heavy dose of Clintonian sticking to our knitting, which worked great in the Gay Nineties when we rode one bubble after another.
TL
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Milton's Eve Speaks
That first sunrise of remembrance, you have those first inchoate visions,
Your nascent eyes lead you to believe you’re the horizon,
But slide outside the womb and I’m agoraphobic
And full of doubt and every morning I’m aphasic
Without my cuppa, full of doubt
Like Milton’s famous dreamawhile Eve.
Did she have that last noble and prelapsarian infirmity? Was she sick
Before she speechless swooned? Speech. Speaking again. Do we have to talk?
But talk is all we have – it’s our only tool. Speech the only analgesic. Narcotic words.
And yet descriptive power. How can you build a massive tower and bridge
Without good words? Inevitably, ineluctably the silent knight with lance will come
With arms and fire to sack the citadel and storm hallowed environs, laying waste beyond
And leaving hollow dunes. An ossuary and bony mausoleum. So Eve’s body is a temple. She sacrifices every child, she bears them up to death. There’s a bunch of nothing down in her no-matter and some panting. Mum and dad fuck you up awake. Already we are born out of the deep and lunched upon another. Lunging. We are launched without permission. Christened, godspeed, no matter what we think of christ. But Eve was made to fall. She’s the offered evve. You. Born, bearing, buried. You. Slay and slaughtered. Yes, she was made to fall. God the father slipped a satanic fancy In her sleeping ear. She did have Adam to talk to but he was just another babe in the woods. Will I be just like God? A god? How is that possible? There was silence and a bunch of nothing. Nothing and the rest was dead silence. Before I was there was nothing. But nothing comes from nothing. Am I already God and this is my creation? Is this only in my
Much deluded head? This dream is real, though. Things change here and stay that way. A fallen tree doesn’t right itself. These phrases don’t form themselves. But do I form them?
She wanted to know. All she seemed to know was like looking into a glinting pool. I’d make A very poor kind of God – waiting under weight for God only knows what. But how can he
Know? If he does know, is this the world he wants? He wants this dim confusion? If I were God, what would I say about this place and all the work of my creation? I’d have to say something, wouldn’t I? I mean, I’d be having thoughts about my thoughts so I’d have
To say something about something here since here is everything and I know all about it.
But what? I wouldn’t know where to begin. Did I see the beginning? This world was here
Before me, this world all before me, greater than me. So all I would say would be nothing,
really. No matter -- burp -- no mater -- no matter how many countless untrammeled attempts to tongue it out, all it would ever be is – north to south – some meaningless terms mouthed by a parrot. There are the parental patterns of repetition. I think I'm going to be sick. They start with me and that man but in reality they must start with God. I didn’t just come up with all of this on my own. God put them in our heads. So the kids will be repeatedly repeating. Just like cattle make cattle make mooing cattle. Old wood never becomes a tree. So all these reiterations to the point of idiotic imbecilic entropy ad infinitum. Ad nauseum. Odd. Eating and regurgitating. Burp. I’m choking on the serpent’s ruminated words. I’ll die of bellyache. Or hunger. Pass that apple. I’m talking God with you, snake. Ralph. I’m speaking of your God. Ralph. Ralph. Belch. Gurgle. Ralph. Gott.
Your nascent eyes lead you to believe you’re the horizon,
But slide outside the womb and I’m agoraphobic
And full of doubt and every morning I’m aphasic
Without my cuppa, full of doubt
Like Milton’s famous dreamawhile Eve.
Did she have that last noble and prelapsarian infirmity? Was she sick
Before she speechless swooned? Speech. Speaking again. Do we have to talk?
But talk is all we have – it’s our only tool. Speech the only analgesic. Narcotic words.
And yet descriptive power. How can you build a massive tower and bridge
Without good words? Inevitably, ineluctably the silent knight with lance will come
With arms and fire to sack the citadel and storm hallowed environs, laying waste beyond
And leaving hollow dunes. An ossuary and bony mausoleum. So Eve’s body is a temple. She sacrifices every child, she bears them up to death. There’s a bunch of nothing down in her no-matter and some panting. Mum and dad fuck you up awake. Already we are born out of the deep and lunched upon another. Lunging. We are launched without permission. Christened, godspeed, no matter what we think of christ. But Eve was made to fall. She’s the offered evve. You. Born, bearing, buried. You. Slay and slaughtered. Yes, she was made to fall. God the father slipped a satanic fancy In her sleeping ear. She did have Adam to talk to but he was just another babe in the woods. Will I be just like God? A god? How is that possible? There was silence and a bunch of nothing. Nothing and the rest was dead silence. Before I was there was nothing. But nothing comes from nothing. Am I already God and this is my creation? Is this only in my
Much deluded head? This dream is real, though. Things change here and stay that way. A fallen tree doesn’t right itself. These phrases don’t form themselves. But do I form them?
She wanted to know. All she seemed to know was like looking into a glinting pool. I’d make A very poor kind of God – waiting under weight for God only knows what. But how can he
Know? If he does know, is this the world he wants? He wants this dim confusion? If I were God, what would I say about this place and all the work of my creation? I’d have to say something, wouldn’t I? I mean, I’d be having thoughts about my thoughts so I’d have
To say something about something here since here is everything and I know all about it.
But what? I wouldn’t know where to begin. Did I see the beginning? This world was here
Before me, this world all before me, greater than me. So all I would say would be nothing,
really. No matter -- burp -- no mater -- no matter how many countless untrammeled attempts to tongue it out, all it would ever be is – north to south – some meaningless terms mouthed by a parrot. There are the parental patterns of repetition. I think I'm going to be sick. They start with me and that man but in reality they must start with God. I didn’t just come up with all of this on my own. God put them in our heads. So the kids will be repeatedly repeating. Just like cattle make cattle make mooing cattle. Old wood never becomes a tree. So all these reiterations to the point of idiotic imbecilic entropy ad infinitum. Ad nauseum. Odd. Eating and regurgitating. Burp. I’m choking on the serpent’s ruminated words. I’ll die of bellyache. Or hunger. Pass that apple. I’m talking God with you, snake. Ralph. I’m speaking of your God. Ralph. Ralph. Belch. Gurgle. Ralph. Gott.
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