The news!

"A U.S. Senate committee report said Thursday that U.S. officials from President George W. Bush on down deliberately distorted facts to persuade American citizens to support an invasion of Iraq." Associated Press

How many times have you heard it: we live in a democracy with three branches of government equal in authority and everyone is accountable. Sounds great. Then, on some sunny day, a news item pops up that there is confirmation that our elected President and his administration played fast and loose with the facts. Yes, they fibbed to us, and it wasn't one of those little white lies, either. This dismissal of the truth cost lives.

Two of the Republican's on the committee issuing the report agreed with the Democratic majority, which meant they agree that George W. Bush laid an egg. Some Republicans didn't agree:

"Republican Sen. Kit Bond, vice chairman of the committee, called it "ironic that the Democrats would knowingly distort and misrepresent the committee's findings and the intelligence in an effort to prove that the administration distorted and mischaracterized the intelligence.""

This sort of politics has been around for a while, some Senators were going to vote against impeachment of Richard Nixon despite "smoking gun" evidence. And that is the mystery; doesn't that type of vote suggest a fundamental dishonesty?

There are the facts in writing, testimony and if you need, the fact that the resulting war continues. How can this be denied? Do we support our President, right or wrong? What about accountability to the people? What about truth? Doesn't this suggest that nothing in the federal government can be trusted?

Yes, I said it, can the federal government be trusted? In the face of overwhelming evidence, at least one Senator attempts to turn these deceptions by a Republican administration into a problem for the Democrats. Politics rule to the exclusion of everything else.

I don't know what it is but it isn't democracy.

Kootie J

Here it is only the 6th of June, early in this presidential campaign, and the political subculture is already putting out the smears against Barack Obama. Yes, I received an e-mail from someone named Tom, quoting someone else claiming Obama was the Anti-christ. This e-mail claims the anti-christ is a man in his 40s, of Muslim descent, who will deceive the nations with persuasive language and have a massive Christ-like appeal. This man, they claim, is Barack Obama.

Snopes, our authority on the anti-christ, says it is false. Of course it is false. The Bible never described the anti-christ! Some Dude made it up!

It might be interesting to point out that this identification of the anti-christ is as perennial as the seasons. Here are a few historical figures who have won the label of anti-christ: George W. Bush, Every Pope, Friedrich Nietzsche (self-proclaimed), Various occultists, Nero, Bill Gates.

Jerry Falwell addressed a pastors' conference in January 1999, stating in a sermon on the Second Coming that the Anti-christ was probably alive on earth, and certainly a Jewish male. Yep, the Christian right.

Well folks, neither Fallwell's or Tom's description fits me and I've always thought I was the anti-christ -- having thumped on religious types all of my life. But there is more; it seems the Book of Revelations identifies a club of sorts and the anti-christ has a membership. Other members: Dragon, Beast, False Prophet and the Whore of Babylon. Hey, I didn't make this up, it's in the Bible. I wonder if the Whore of Babylon will arrive before the Anti-Christ?

What we know is that someone wrote this thesis on the Anti-christ and made this political claim for no purpose than to draw voters from Obama. Is Obama so perfect that this sort of opinion is necessary? I suppose someone will believe this claim and this may be the reason behind the letter. Perhaps the sickness that invaded the Nixon campaigns is still out there.

Kootie J

"Political polarization in America is like no other time since the Civil War. Liberals are called communists or socialists. Conservatives are called fascists."

In my previous post I made the above observation. I have seen nothing that disturbs what I portrayed, one only needs to read the comments on this blog.

Musings, as I like to call them, are observations based on the facts of life that I bump into everyday. The price of gas is on the rise, it doesn't snow where I live anymore, food prices are way up, and the list goes on.

I read about this, since I live in the mountains and television is an infrequent entertainment. One could argue that the writers in my library are biased, yet, I can make the very same argument about writers in the comment column. Do I trust any opinion? If I should read something then find supporting evidence, I would believe that person. And that brings me back to the quote that began this little diatribe.

I have little doubt humans will survive 2012. The date is a mere distraction as well as an astronomical event of importance. Having said that, none of the aforementioned problems will go away. We will still have to deal with them.

Back to the polarized political environment: There are many out there who display a testiness in opposition opinions, I find that these individuals have a great desire to persuade others to abandon ideas and subscribe to their notions while rarely offering solutions to the extent of denying that any problem exists. And finally, when a problem does arise, these people are nowhere to be found.

Is the sky falling? No, it is merely evaporating.

For those remarks of support, thank you!

Kootie J

Sometimes I feel that we are all on the downhill side of history. Perhaps we've reached the high spot. It's just a feeling I get once in a while.

We know that scientists and engineers have calculated that the oil peak was reached at about the turn of the century.

Global warming is at or near the point of no return.

Food is beginning to show signs of scarcity now that ethanol has become an item.

Airlines can no longer handle the traffic.

All of the earthquake fault lines on the West Coast are overdue.

The lower middle class can no longer afford a University education.

We are fighting a war and can't even decide if we are winning or not.

U.S. healthcare is in decline - 37th in the world in terms of quality - the most expensive in the world.

Gym classes in school have almost disappeared; science classes are losing ground.

Political polarization in America is like no other time since the Civil War. Liberals are called communists or socialists. Conservatives are called fascists.

Gun licensing is up.

Could be 2012 is the end!!

Kootie J

" . . . this conjunction of an immense military establishment and a large arms industry is new in the American experience. The total influence — economic, political, even spiritual — is felt in every city, every statehouse, every office of the federal government. We recognize the imperative need for this development. Yet we must not fail to comprehend its grave implications. Our toil, resources and livelihood are all involved; so is the very structure of our society. In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist. We must never let the weight of this combination endanger our liberties or democratic processes. We should take nothing for granted. Only an alert and knowledgeable citizenry can compel the proper meshing of the huge industrial and military machinery of defense with our peaceful methods and goals so that security and liberty may prosper together." Dwight D. Eisenhower.

Dwight Eisenhower was a Republican President. That he spoke these words at all demonstrates a courage that is seldom seen in American politics. President Clinton challenged the military-industrial-complex through reductions in the defense budget, sending surpluses to payoff the national debt - something no Republican President has ever done. We are all aware of what happened to President Clinton, every aspect of his life was investigated. Courage under fire. Punishment for challenging the establishment.

All of this involves war, continuous war. Of course a military is necessary, especially in a world political environment created by the U.S. since WWII. Yet, war means killing. That's right people, killing other people. Those "people" could be you. Hah, you feel the fear!! Someone could be so angry with you that they would shoot at you, kill you if they could, because you are an American. Is it okay to shoot at the other fellow as long as he doesn't shoot back?

Isn't killing against the Ten Commandments? I realize that was changed to "murder", a man-made change -- to justify war. It is killing none-the-less.

War!!! What can we do to stop war? Perhaps we can start by not starting wars. Perhaps we Americans should not consider ourselves the World's Policeman. We did take a central role in creating the United Nations for that purpose. Perhaps Americans should mind their own business.

Lost lives is not the only cost of war; ask yourselves this -- are you better off today than you were before the Iraq invasion? Gas, housing market, grocery prices, world reputation, secret government, wiretapping, airport searches and more! And why is it that America is the first to jump into any fracas?

Does all of this lead back to the Eisenhower statement about the military-industrial-complex? Hey, an Army that doesn't fight isn't needed, nor are all of the industries that support that military. All of that industrial production went to war, not to you, not to me, and the profits went to the chosen few.

And for those who have forgotten, wasn't it Harry Truman who made his reputation investigating war profiteering? And who is doing that job today?

Kootie J

For me, the American Coup began on a day in November 1963, to be more exact, it was my birthday, 22 November.

Before that day, my efforts centered on getting away from a dysfunctional household and that led me to the coffee shops of Oakland and Berkeley where people seemed to sit around, sipping for hours at a single cup of black coffee and talk. Beatniks of the 50's. At times the conversation was unintelligible, at other times it was stimulating. Mostly, I just listened. I was only a kid. And I did not care about the fat lady reading poetry in an over-bearing voice.

Whether I met anyone famous or not seems to have slipped by my ability to recollect, yet, I came away with the seeds independent thought firmly planted. All of this began to sprout as I fought the battle back at home, became disowned and ran away by joining the Army. By the time I was a civilian again, Eisenhower had led us into a recession and I was miles from being that youth who joined the military fracas. Ike left us all a message and a warning about the Military Industrial Complex when he waved goodbye, handing the problems of southeast Asia and his little noticed warning to the next President.

We should have listened then because it foretold of the coming coup, the savagery of Conservatism and Corporate greed; the destruction of the Constitution.

From where I stood, America and Americans seemed to be fighting back, thus were the 60's. Television commentators now speak of a time when America seemed to be coming apart, perspective -- I thought America was getting back to it's roots.

Along came Vietnam, a limited war fought because we forgot the lessons of Korea, and there were things about politicians making military decisions and a failure to seek victory and all of the time ignoring lessons taught to us by General W. T. Sherman on how to do the job and we did not remember. We never remember.

Then we murdered another Kennedy and a King, and the coup continued. And we elected Nixon. The electorate had it's head up it's ass. My neighbor is fond of shouting, "We get the government we deserve." Perhaps he has a point. And corporate America grew on a wartime budget, and no one remembered Eisenhower. Nobody ever remembers.

Then we elected an actor who was a profound failure as a Governor, who broke the law then told us so, almost daring someone to do something about it. The Imperial Presidency. It had arrived.

Gone were the flower children and their promise of Nirvana, gone was the notion of togetherness, instead we were under the thumb of imported oil, cheesy cars and secret meetings in the name of National Security. Invade Grenada, can't lose. Victory; we beat the holy crap out of Grenada, Granola or whatever it was; then we named an airport after this mentally addled crook.

Clinton slipped in there somehow. They couldn't shoot him so they investigated everything including the inside of his shorts. Clinton couldn't get a judge appointed, but who cared? Americans didn't.

The Coup could not stand to have anything interfering with the trend toward -- toward what? It wasn't democracy. Bush! Congress was getting it's balls cut off, the courts were being stacked with extreme rightists. Greed! Personal wealth. No governance. No help. A stolen election by any measure -- the coup was complete.

The Imperial Presidency and the Military Industrial Complex.

Because nobody remembered.

Kootie J

Saint Peter was just hanging out, leaning up against the Pearly Gates chi-chatting with Satan about events in the middle east down on Earth, one of the provincial neutral grounds where mystical creatures go to vacation. "Say, Red Eyes, have you been down to the beach lately?"

The Horn-laden Red Dude responded, "Which beach?" He was playing dumb, but that came as no surprise, after all he was the Devil and he could hardly carry on a conversation without shading the truth here and there, lie, in other words.

Pete said, "The middle-east, you Dingleberry!"

"It's kind of hot down there."

"After all of the effort we went through to make you this great big beach with all that sand, you think it's too hot?" Pete was exasperated.

Horn-man shrugged, "You went and put that slippery black stuff there then the word is you talked to one of the fellows there and told him to start shooting across the sand." He nods knowingly. "I have good intelligence in that beach area.." He nods some more.

"Intelligence," Pete said, smirking as the word rolled off his tongue, "When was the last time you had an extended thought, huh? About the time you ran those Christians in circles at the forum in Rome, right?"

The forked-tongue Red Fellow said, "Speaking of intelligence, look who you have running that ping-pong ball match on the beach down there."

Pete frowned, Rumsfeld was gone, he had seen to that because Rummy wouldn't sit down or kneel and nobody prays standing up - no prayer, no job. It wasn't Cheney, not after trying to knock off a lawyer, one of the Mystical Being's main ways of mixing things up.

Devil-Dude broke into his thoughts, "I told you we have good intelligence down there but you didn't listen. You just had to make a cutesy remark feeding the tigers, those poor cuddly animals with claws and all."

Pete was frowning, "Who do you mean?"

Horny-Devil folded his arms and pretended to look away. "I'm not telling!"

Pete stamped one foot, "Aw, come on, tell me."

Quickly, almost in a flash, Forked Tongue spit out the name, "George W. Bush." He whipped his tail once, "So, there!"

Just then, a thundering voice from the swirling white mist rumbled towards the pearly gates, who mentions the name of George W. Bush?" Devil-Dude vanished in a flash leaving only St. Pete to respond. "Hey, wasn't me?" He shrugged.

"Get in here," the voice rumbled.

"I'll lock things up for now," Pete said.

"Better not do that, when word gets down there those TV Evangelists go crazy for bucks and broads, and activity in airport men's rooms picks up. Leave it open. Put a clerical person there until you get back, Monica will do."

Pete does his duty and then goes inside. Just where inside is, he does not know -- all that fog and all. He just walks until something happens. It's usually the voice that commands him to stop but he is left wondering if heaven is flat or round, and if the Mystical Being Who has Never Been Seen had a sore throat from all that shouting and he couldn't shout, would he walk off the edge of heaven and fall - to where? A thought jumped up, they could use a few scientists up here. Need answers. Darwin is here but some of the Angels thumped on him, right-wing angels, the worst.

The Voice rumbled, "Who mentions the name George W. Shrub?"

"Bush," Pete corrects.

"Bush mentioned Shrub?"

"No, Bush is Shrub."

"What's this, an alias?"

"No, it's George Bush."

"Can't be, he's an old guy getting ready to come up here. We have a pretend airplane for him, one that he can keep crashing and escaping from."

"George W. Bush," Pete sighs.

"What happened to Shrub?"

"That's what you burnt up when you were talking with Moses."

"I burnt George W. Shrub, huh? Funny, I don't remember that."

"Satan said you talked with George W. Bush, told him to start shooting over some black stuff on the beach. He got it from down there on the beach, some Israelis' would be my guess," Pete explained.

"I don't talk much these days. Let me see now, I'll have a look in my rolodex."

Pete could hear the shuffling of heavenly paper. It sounded like any other paper actually. He waited, what else was there to do?
Voice rumbling, "What was it I was supposed to have said?"

"Start shooting over some black stuff on the beach," Pete repeated.

"Hmmmm, I don't seem to have that in the file."

"Anything you have sounds like that?"

"I told someone down there to "Oil the machinery of Government and start shooting for blacks who can teach.""

Pete is scratching his chin, "Do you think Cheney might have answered GWB's telephone when you called him?"

Once upon a time I told a joke to see people laugh. To make them smile is a moment of peace for them and for me, a momentary freedom from the daily struggle of survival. Are we so serious that laughter or the risk of no one "getting it" is to be penalized?

Let us see the humor in everything. Joy to the world. Let us, above all, poke fun at ourselves and our customs.

Or, we can all go out there and start another war and kill one another, what the hell! Everybody is doing it, why not us?

Kootie J

I listen to the passing thoughts, each unrelated to the next when I permit my mind to run free. This abstraction is me. Should I announce a self image, a private musing, or is this a manifestation to reality? Try me! Does this connect to anything you know?

Who are we? Or is there no "we" and only me. Did I imagine you and the world you inhabit? Am I so masochistic that I have made myself live and struggle to be in this place, in this time? Are you merely bytes in some electro-magnetic circuit, something I imagined? If so, why don't you have larger boobs? That is why there is "we" and not just me; you see, I cannot change you.

So, we are in this mess together. Where? If the string theory works, permitting parallel universes, then we are insignificant and we, you and me, place too much importance on our existence. Follow the theory to it's end and you may realize that we are a miniscule something that is only a part of something larger. Larger! Yes, we may be a part of a proton in a crumb of bread hidden in some corner of the kitchen floor in a larger place and a different time.

So, why anguish about life. As I have said on other occasions; life is for living - strife is a knife into the bowels of life. Live life, screw the definition of what we may be and enjoy the life cycle you happen to be in.

Everything is electro-magnetic energy, our eyes are tuners to see only a small portion of the spectrum, so permit you mind to roam. Yes, you! I shall return to my poke of fun at the Mythical Being that Nobody has Seen. You may wish to connect to me, or thee and be astounded by the simplicity of it all.

Kootie J

Through the pale mist, into a place of darkness, then a gust of something moves what it is and a brightness engulfs. Engulfs! What does it engulf, what is this? A place, a - - familiar something. Darkness in the form of grey and a sense of it passing along some predestined path. Then the light, I've seen this light once before. When? Recognition of; of what?

Of . . . must remember. Remember, a scene, yes, it is coming back. Think! Yes, it was during lunch, it was a . . . nooner!!!!

A whiff of darkness sweeps across my vision. What is happening? My secretary, an animal with boobs one could only imagine and she wanted me for a nooner. Yes, I remember! I lay there for only seconds before she jumped on me and grabbed my . . . I remember her moans, the excitement and . . . the white light, and grandma who was shaking a finger at me, and grandpa who was holding his thumb and forefinger in a circle, grinning. All of my relatives; the men smiling, the women frowning. Then the mist and I am alone. What is happening?

"Judgment Day!" a big voice boomed, shaking my very soul. I gaze down at myself, I'm not really there; some of me, yes, but everything is sort of transparent. It's, it's just my soul.

"Who are you?" the big voice blasts out the question.

"Damned if I know!" I respond. I'm looking around seeing nothing.

"All right, smart ass," the voice bellows, "who were you?"

"Say, can you turn down the volume a little?" I'm thinking, "I think I'm Joe Schmatlzby."

A large laugh and I'm thankful that the volume is down a bit. "Who hung that handle on you?" More laughing.

Ordinarily I'd pop anyone who made fun of my name, but I can't even see this dude. "Okay wiseguy, show yourself and let's have a look at your name."

"I am the Mythical Being that Nobody has Seen." It was spoken with great pride.

"Sounds like my bookie," I comment.

"Listen up, little Dude, this is your Judgment Day."

"I'll be damned!"

"Yes, you might." I smell trouble. "Tell me, what were you doing just before you came here? The messenger service is a little slow, so you'll have to tell me." the voice said.

"Judgment Day, huh." I'm beginning to believe it. Here I am, standing in a fog talking to the Mythical Being that Nobody has Seen, and, sure enough, I can't see a thing except fog - sometimes dark, and sometimes bright. "Uh oh, light and dark," I mutter. "What was I doing?"

"Yes, you remember, they all remember. I programmed you to remember."

"I'm a computer, a robot?"

"Answer the question, Dingleberry!!"

"Well, I, uh, was on my lunch break, and we were, ah . . ."

"Out with it!!"

"Well, you see, the last thing I remember was those boobs in my face. I was trying to get a breath, you know what I mean?"

A small uncomfortable silence grabbed the moment. "Yes, the messenger has arrived." More silence. I wait, like, what else was there to do? "Ah ha!" the voice says, "you were exercising your biological urges to procreate as a result of those hormones I planted in your . . never mind where." More silence. "Suffocated, it says. Giant boob syndrome. Well," he pauses, "you ain't the first, won't be the last. What a way to go!"

"You mean . . . "

"Yep, I'm gonna redesign boobs. They gotta be smaller. Too many casualties with those big ones."

"You mean, you mean there won't be anymore gigantic mammarys where I can stick my nose, shake my head, press against my ears . . . "

"That is correct. It will forever be called the Schmaltzby design."

"But, men will hate me forevermore." I protest vigorously.

"Not my fault," the voice said, "Shoulda been on top. I give you a gift and you overindulge. Greedy, even."

"This'll be hell!" I protest.

"You got that right."

End

I am the voice that rumbles beyond the clouds; the angel called Earl; the mystic entity that puffs the lonely wind (not flatulence); I am the scribe of the commandments. So there, you know who I am. No, I don't have an e-mail address. I have viewed the world I created and those little creatures that swarm over the surface of this place, and have considered calling Clark. No, not Clark Kent; "Clark, we need you!" Perhaps I have over created for there are lawyers among the many.

First, I wrote 30 commandments and discovered two problems immediately, Moses couldn't read and he was no weightlifter. True, I had to write them on a rock because Moses forgot to bring neither paper nor pencil. He was not a good student. Then he dropped them and broke my words into many pieces. I had not backed up my thesis and could not remember them all, so he got ten; it was all he could handle. Besides, he broke them, so I made him carve the words on the second set. I have often speculated that he snuck something in there, which is why there are lawyers.

I remember a few that were left behind; yes, thou shalt not eat Twinkies from the 7/11; thou shalt not smoke after sex and you are instructed to snuggle and say huggy-pooh things; I didn't use the word "covet" and I have no idea what it means, coulda been a typo (as in cover - think about it); Thou shalt not pull your pud more than once per day and I don't care about prostate health; Thou shalt change your underwear once each day, you never know if you're going to be in an accident (I think that one came from Mom, yes, I have one of those, we were Jewish, ya know).

Many have wondered why I was on the mountain top and not down in the valley for everyone to witness; the answer came from my caring soul, Moses was getting fat so I made him climb the mountain a bunch of times. It didn't work, he always carried a large picnic basket, ate all of the contents and used the basket to carry the stone upon which I had scribed those magnificent words. He had wheels on the basket.

I have always wondered where those poor former slaves of the Egyptians came up with all that gold to make those idols that Moses flipped out over. Me thinks there was some skullduggery going on.

But there was manna all around the mountain so they hung around for about forty years. You would think they'd get tired of the stuff. Matzo balls, a lawyer changed the name. Boy, I sure got tired of making those things. Shoulda made a commandment about 'em. They were fattening, and Charleton Heston didn't look like Moses. Moses never exercised a day in his life, and he didn't shave or use deodorant. This was the beginning of Welfare, an institution that has survived the resistance of time and Republicans.

Hold on, the phone is ringing! "Yes, this is the mystical being that nobody has ever seen." "Uh huh, all of 'em". "Thanks Clark!"

gl