Congress and the White House have been working all week to hash out this supposedly-necessary $700,000,000,000 bailout. Naturally, all that’s missing is a massive shipment of buckets from FEMA.
The process would be much smoother were both Parties not so leery of having this red mark on their resumes. With the last nails being pounded into the taxpayers’ coffin, even as we kick and scream that we’re not dead, one can only conclude the obvious.
This capitalist (Capitolist?) disaster must result in the vanquishing of Reaganomics from American life, this discredited supply-side nonsense that George Herbert Walker Bush rightly called “voodoo economics”. Those ideas which brought us to this point must be relegated, like slavery and prohibition, to the storied dustbin of history.
Much needs to be done in cleaning up after these robber barons. Restoring Clinton-era tax rates would be a good starting point, to say nothing of regulations on what’s left of the financial sector. The Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act should be brought back and modernized. The same goes for the Sherman Anti-Trust Act. Collective bargaining ought to be mandatory for, at the very least, Fortune 500 companies.
Most of all, you Republicans need to stop acting like the sky is going to fall if the TOP (Top One Percent) doesn’t get everything it wants. Your constituents and everyone else have spoken. We’re not praying to Baal anymore.
Under GOP rule, the rich got everything they wanted - breezy taxes, easy mergers, hot stock options, unfettered markets, stifled wages, truckloads of warbucks - and the sky fell anyway. If they want to insist that their philosophy is sound, then the public can only assume that conservatives chose leaders who were incompetent. Either way…
Only one of the candidates running for president provides any hope that this economy will change back into one that supports, promotes and rewards hard work (as opposed to raw corporate greed). Only one of the candidates promises to pick up all these pieces of broken sky.
If you think John McCain is that candidate, then I’ve got a really good deal on a house for you, right here in Phoenix. But you’d better act now. I hear interest rates are on the rise…
pH 9.25.o8
There isn’t much to know about Henry Paulson’s three-page remedy for America’s worst economic malady since 1929. Our Treasury Secretary said yesterday, on the ghost of Meet the Press, “I won’t bet against the American people. We’re an entrepreneurial people, a hard-working people, and we will work through this, we always do.”
Got that? It’s your baby.
George W. Bush’s bagman is demanding, immediately and without review, a check from the taxpayers in the amount of seven hundred billion dollars to disperse as he pleases. If you think that’s the end of it, confer with early GOP estimates on the cost of the war in Iraq.
What’s more, his decisions may not be subject to any court of law or administrative agency - his words. Translated into plain English: “We hate your children.” If Paulson (who works for the president, who is the face of the Republican Party) didn’t hate your kids, why would he have allowed this runaway market to come down on the public so hard?
Here’s what the former Goldman-Sachs CEO, who holds half a billion dollars in stock options, was saying just 18 months ago. “Clearly, no one’s got a crystal ball. So there’s always a possibility that there will be a downturn, always a possibility. But I don’t see it. I think we have a healthy economy in the U.S.”
A year later, he was just as lucid in his confidence, even as he was trying to shore up the sand castles of billionaires - some American, some not. ”I believe today’s recommendations put us on the path towards more transparent, better-functioning, and better-managed markets… This effort is not about finding excuses and scapegoats.”
Neither are his efforts today. All of this begs the question, why do the Republicans hate the children?
Look at the way that conservative governance has treated the next generation(s). Did they fund the Low Income Heating Assistance Program? No. Did they keep up the pace with the State Children’s Health Insurance Plan? No. They didn’t even adequately fund their own ideas, like No Child Left Behind. It’s not just a joke. It’s a cruel joke.
Poverty, a significant factor in infant mortality, is the punchline. Kids in poverty have little or no access to health care, which is especially inconvenient when there’s no heat in the house. Kids without a quality education don’t make it through college. They make less money, and so it tumbles down through the generations.
The most recently killed troops in Iraq were only about twelve years old when 9/11 hit the fan. Just kids. Seven years later, they’re fighting and dying in a place that we knew had nothing to do with the attacks of 2001. McCain - like most Republicans - is willing to see today’s youth, and their offspring, stuck in the same sad place.
All of this is brought to you by the so-called pro-life crowd. They’re not pro-life. They’re pro-fetus, because a fetus makes for a great political football. You can pass it. You can punt it. You can hand it off, and all the while, people are keeping their eyes on that football so they never notice things like seven hundred billion dollar bailouts.
Don’t even talk about raising taxes, though, especially on the uber-wealthy. Conservatives are as fervently opposed to that, for some perverse reason, as they are to abortion or regulation or global warming or civil rights or most any other idea that the majority of Americans share.
But, for God’s sake, why do they so hate the children? At this point I’d go so far as to drop the name Scrooge, but you may recall that even in the twisted mind of Charles Dickens, old Ebenezer saw the light at the end of A Christmas Carol… Or was that just another bedtime story?
You know. Something to keep them quiet.
pH 9.22.o8
Poor Hillary. She spent all that time, all that money, all that effort and all that dry-cleaning in a valiant attempt to become America’s first modern female presidential nominee. The only thing that derailed her was the ultra-vibrant candidacy of Barack Obama… And then Sarah Palin gets nominated by the Republicans. More on that in a minute.
Anything that John McCain says about himself or anyone else must now be subject to the highest degree of skepticism, given his desperate telling of bald-faced lies in order to fulfill (as he once put it) his executive ambitions. When he projects his own flaws unto his opponent, it comes off about as genuine as saying he spent the latter part of the 1960s studying Eastern philosophy.
For instance, McCain and his supporters like to paint Obama as an “elitist”. That argument might have sounded better before last month, when McCain couldn’t remember how many homes he owned; the answer is ten, with a cumulative value of almost $14 million. What a populist.
Perhaps that’s why he keeps insisting, during the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression, that “the fundamentals of the economy are strong”. In his world, they are.
The Maverick also wants you to believe that he will bust up the “old boy network” in Washington, but his colleagues will tell you that there has never been an older boy than the Senator from Arizona. His sudden pro-worker stance is also interesting, seeing as he’s never clocked one single hour in the private sector.
He touts foreign policy experience as his greatest asset. That’s hard to swallow, seeing as he keeps mistaking Sunnis for Shi’ites in Iraq, and once made mention of an Iraq-Afghanistan border. Of course, no such thing exists, and neither does Czechoslovakia, which he has cited. Just the other day he thought Spain was in “Latin America.”
(At least he’ll talk about the subject. His running mate is as forthcoming on foreign policy as the current Vice President is about energy policy.)
None of this stuff matters, though, because McCain isn’t really the GOP nominee. Sarah Palin is. Flash forward to a potential President McCain resigning from office due to “health related issues” and handing the reins over to Alaska’s favorite moose-skinner. Too far-fetched for the World Wide Web? No way.
The right-wing base is clearly more enthralled with her than with him, which is borne out by the attendance figures from their respective events. And note how conservatives everywhere keep referring to her husband, Todd, as The First Dude. But if she’s running for Vice President, wouldn’t that make him The Second Dude?
Oh, wait, they’re just referring to the fact that he’s the governor’s spouse. So he’s The First Dude of Alaska. Only nobody says that. And she calls it the ”Palin and McCain” ticket in her speeches (which she doesn’t write). It wasn’t by fiat that she landed the Sean Hannity interview, which might as well have been sponsored by Nerf.
Whichever nominee is on top, this election is an IQ test, plain and simple. Barack Obama spent twelve years teaching Constitutional law. Contrast that with George W. Bush, who only finds the Constitution useful when the Oval Office lavatory runs out of toilet paper - and then consider that McCain is merely an older and more confused version of Bush.
It’s a clear choice we have to make, about as clear as it gets. Obama is a laptop, an iPhone. McCain is an abacus, a slide rule. I know, the slide rule got us to the moon back in 1969, that is true. It even managed to put an electric car up there. Four decades later, we still don’t have electric cars on showroom floors. So much for the slide rule.
pH 9.19.o8
American finance took it on the chin today. With the demise of Lehman Brothers, the cannibalism of Merrill-Lynch and the impending implosion of AIG, it’s a wonder the Dow only fell by 500 points. Call it Stormy Monday.
We’re in real trouble here. This is looking like a trickle-down disaster, the kind of fizzle that will have you salivating for the good old days of WorldCom and Enron. Starting with Bear Sterns (and extending through Fannie May and Freddie Mac), the taxpayers have been keeping the overstuffed closet door shut, until today.
We’re closing in on a national debt of $10 trillion. Entitlement outlays are expected to increase exponentially as the Baby Boomers retire. The war in Iraq is still costing us two billion a week. Our only sign of a pulse, last quarter’s growth of 3.3 percent, was due to those economic stimulus checks - borrowed money, akin to taking out a cash advance on one’s credit card.
The bank in this case would be, largely, China. Between loans and trade deficits, we owe the Chinese something like $1.3 trillion. That’s a lot of money. The other stuff we can somehow manage or work off. Having the last bastion of Communism holding our marker is too risky in today’s economic climate.
In any normal household, these decisions get made promptly. We pawn our jewelry, our tools, our musical instruments, our guns, whatever it takes to stay afloat. We part with the toys, which can be seen along every roadside bearing FOR SALE signs. The jet-ski, the fishing boat, the motorcycle, the classic car, it’s all available right now.
It shouldn’t be any different for Uncle Sam. We have to live within the parameters of our pocketbooks, or we’re out on the street. The government must abide by the same pressures and realities. Balancing the budget was the only good idea Newt Gingrich ever had.
We’ve only got so much in the way of collateral, but there might be a way out of our debt to the Chinese. Why don’t we give them Alaska?
William Seward purchased Alaska from Russia in 1867 for just $7.2 million (less than two cents an acre), though it was not granted statehood until a century later. We’re talking about quite a land mass, which will be attractive to burgeoning China. If global warming plays out as expected, it could all be fertile farmland within a few decades.
It also has a good deal of mineral wealth, most obviously in oil, but also in precious metals. I’m not saying it’s worth the full one-point-three, but it should easily erase a cool trillion from the ledger.
The secession-minded Alaskan Independence Party (with whom Governor Sarah Palin and her husband are, to say the least, tenuously affiliated) shouldn’t mind. Hey, if they don’t want to be part of America anymore… Think about it. Puerto Rico would gladly accept the 50th star; we wouldn’t even have to pay for new flags.
Clearly, any American citizen who does not wish to remain in Sino-Alaska will be absorbed into the Lower Forty-Eight (or Hawaii, assuming we don’t have to put that on the block, too). Those good people will find themselves right at home in places like Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Or they can take their chances in Canada.
Those who would stay and live as Communists will have to reconcile a few things, such as their fondness for large families. China’s got kind of a different take on that. No, the notion of forced abortions does not go over well with Republicans - which most Alaskans happen to be - but, then, they’re the ones who ran up the bills with the Red Bank.
The good news is that China will likely be more than willing to drill in ANWR, as they are decidedly less concerned about the environment than we are. Lord knows they love a good Party. They definitely share conservative ideals when it comes to political dissent. And I’m pretty sure they have no problem with hunting from airplanes.
pH 9.15.o8
Anyone watching the Republican presidential campaign will appreciate this. It’s a trip through the land of make-believe:
***
Say you’re the owner of a building, a big one, with lots of tenants from all walks of life and from every rung on the economic ladder. It’s a big responsibility. Dealing with such a thing would be expensive and time-consuming, more than any owner would want to handle personally. The tenants take care of the money; you need a Super to make the time.
So you hire one. He’s a likeable enough fellow, not too terribly bright but sufficiently so for the job at hand. He’s been doing okay for the first few months when he shows up one day and tells you he wants to acquire another property. Says he’s absolutely sure it would help secure your portfolio.
How much, you ask? The Super laughs. He says he wasn’t thinking of buying the other building so much as killing the current owner and just… taking it over. Now this guy’s kind of funny sometimes, a little “off” in his own way, so you just shrug and say, “What the heck.” After all, you’ve entrusted him with your empire. This is why you pay him.
After a while (and after a few ugly stories on the news) you decide to go and check on your new investment, which turns out to be clear on the other side of town. You become nervous upon arrival. The building is physically crumbling from years of neglect. The utilities work sporadically at best. The paint is peeling, the roof is no good, and that’s not the worst part.
You quickly realize that the neighborhood isn’t so great, riven with creepy-looking people, people with guns and nothing to do. The only source of money is the addiction trade. The new tenants not only seem to despise each other, the surrounding buildings contain hostile populations, as well.
But the market’s been terrific lately. How can you lose?
The Super seems very confident about all this. As he explains the extent of his confidence, a large dump truck backs up into your parking lot and discharges a hefty load of manure. “Goddang it,” says the Super, “I ordered Number Four crushed rock. Oh, well.” His work crew (mostly old guys, all on a first-name basis) starts spreading out the manure.
At this point, you don’t want to know. You just leave. When you get home, you discover several complaints on the answering machine, and some of them even left e-mail followups. You also notice that a few of your tenants - the richest ones - haven’t been paying their rent. Never mind it all. You go on vacation.
***
You are well-rested when you return, but all that relaxation falls from your shoulders when you see the stack of unpaid bills next to the phone. You head right over to see the Super.
You find him right where you left him last time, in the parking lot, watching as his workers lay fresh straw over the manure. The smell has diminished somewhat, but the flies are God-awful, despite the ubiquitous tendrils of multi-hued flypaper. The Super chews on a piece of straw and admires his work.
You insist on knowing what’s going on. The Super explains that this is hard work. He’s having to work through his sources and make some tough decisions. He believes that progress is being made. At least the tenants have stopped fighting, he says, on account of he’s paying them to be nice to each other. And he’s got a pallet of bug-spray due in by the weekend.
That’s enough. “You’re fired,” you say, and the Super laughs. Laughs! He pulls out a grimy copy of his contract and shows you some fine print - which you’ve never seen before. It turns out you’re stuck with him for the duration (a mercifully short period of time) unless he croaks or decides to resign, in which case his silent partner would take over. You didn’t even know about the silent partner.
You resort to a threat: “Well, then, I’ll sell the place.” But he points out that it’s actually kind of a co-op. The tenants are the real owners. Like he mentioned before, he didn’t really buy the place; he killed the previous owner and just… took it over. Disheartened, you decide to at least get on with the business of hiring his replacement.
After thumbing through the stack, you select two applicants to interview for the job. The first one is a fresh-faced young man, college graduate, with lots of new and modern ideas. He says he’s going to start by cleaning up all that crap, making the place functional and moving this bad investment off the books. Sounds good to you.
The second job-seeker is much older (and has apparently brought along his private nurse). To be sure, his impressive resume is as thick as a good milkshake. He’s definitely been around. He has some ideas on improving the property - shutters, planter boxes, blinds and the like. As he goes on, it occurs to you that you recognize the guy.
“Hey,” you demand, “didn’t you do some work for the lousy Super I’ve got now?” He says yes, indeed, that he was in fact the one who thought of the straw and the multi-hued flypaper. After shaking your head, you ask about his female companion. He explains that she’s a rookie; he’s just showing her the ropes.
You have to ask. “She’s not an intern, is she? Because I hate that. I won’t stand for it. The last Super had girls in and out of this place all hours of the night.” His stammering assurances fade to red as he makes them. Tuning him out, you consider that for all of his flaws, that old Super sure kept the place running. Like a well-oiled machine. And the money was always right, too…
***
Okay. That’s enough. Fantasy is one thing. Nostalgia, we cannot tolerate.
Not just yet.
pH 9.11.o8
Here it is: Football season. Thank God. Seven long months went by without our nation’s favorite sport being played before the great American audience. Last Thursday night was the NFL opener, actually, with Washington Redskins falling to the New York Giants.
The Republican National Convention went off without a hitch. Governor Sarah Palin of Alaska was unveiled to a full-throated (if not sold-out) crowd. Pundits and commentators were particularly struck by how “enthusiastically” she was received. Of course the base was enthusiastic - she’s a woman, and most of them are on Viagra.
The first weekend is always the best one for football fans (eventual Super Bowl champs excepted company). The grass is as green as the chalk is white. The tailgating hours are swollen with September swagger. The slate is clean. The players and coaches brim with optimism, and this year’s rookie might just be a star.
John McCane - sorry, McCain gave a perplexing speech, much of which was quickly debunked by those pesky fact-finding websites. It focused on, well, on himself. McCain has often said he should not be elevated just because of his terrible POW experience, but such was the main topic for most of the convention. Similarly, Palin’s private life was supposed to be off-limits to the media, yet she made her family the centerpiece of her soliloquy.
Some teams put their faith in a grizzled veteran quarterback. Others opt for a fresh start with a new face. Either way, the focus is always on the next player in line. Loyalties can quickly and nimbly jump the fence. But that stuff is down the road. Right now, we’re just thinking (praying) about the possibilities, enjoying the pebbled feel of pigskin in our grip.
More amusing (and informative) than the speeches were some of the signs that conservatives waved so proudly. “Amereica”, for instance, is such an egregious grammatical error that it shouldn’t require Spell Checker to ferret it out. Also, the neo-version of the word “Mavrick” doesn’t quite trip the tongue the way the old one did. And who is this “Democrates”? The Greek God of Politics?
At the opening kickoff, you holler your lungs out, christening the moment from which all hopes spring. As for the visiting squad, they are the enemy. Defeating them is not enough. They must be treated with great disdain, even outright hostility. And their mothers, too.
Raisin McCain has campaigned mightily against earmarks. Had he given Mrs. Palin’s resume anything more than a cursory glance, he might have noticed that her state goes through more pork than Bob Evans and Jimmy Dean combined. He might’ve also noticed that mean secessionist streak running through Alaska, which she has used to her political advantage.
Hell yes, you support your team, even if it costs half your paycheck. You wear the colors - sometimes even in your hair, or painted on your face. You buy and wave that goofy foam finger. You drink too many eight-dollar beers. You slurp down food that would kill you quickly if that was all you consumed.After Barack Obama’s thunderous speech before a packed Mile High Stadium the week before, the GOP’s nominee tried to rally his supporters around a cry of little more than, “Goddammit, I’m John McCain!” His approach to the actual issues amounts to lipstick on a pit bull. That’s all conservatives have got, so that’s all they need.
Win or lose, you are there for them, just as they’ve always been there for you.Whatever our disagreements, we’re all fans. You’re excited. How could you not be? The season’s full of promise. The game plan is in place. Rise to your feet with your fellows and cheer until the last whistle is blown…
Still, I was born and raised in Michigan, which would make me a Lions fan. Some years ago, I moved to Arizona, so I’m stuck being a Cardinals fan, too, so I know. I’m fired up, just like you have to be. But I know what’s coming, what always happens with “my” teams. I understand.
You understand.
pH 9.o6.o8
As John McCain’s judgment continues to spin out of control, the American public would do well to consider just what could derail one of the most dynamic political campaigns ever run in the history of democracy - that of Barack Obama. The first candidate to truly emerge from the melting pot, Obama faces a minor speedbump in McCain compared to the inherent racism that still exists below the surface in this country.
Certainly no office-seeker is perfect and there are indeed legitimate policy differences to be had with Obama. His support for the recent FISA fiasco, for instance, lost him more than a few friends among the civil libertarian set. But that’s not the kind of thing you often hear from people who oppose the Democrat from Illinois. What you hear is a lot of code, a lot of jargon, that all adds up to the same unspoken ”argument”: He’s Black.
Start with my old buddy Al, who fought his ass off in Korea as an 18-year old Marine and who loves the United States as much as or more than anyone, fully as much as my Senator, John McCain. But Al’s got it stuck in his head that “Obama hates America”.
I suppose this is a mass e-mail thing; I honestly don’t care what gave him that idea. If Obama hated his country, he wouldn’t be serving it for a paltry (by Harvard lawyer standards) $155,000 a year. Anyway, I don’t think Al’s that gullible. What he probably means is, unsurprisingly, he’s Black.
Otherwise, it might occur to him that nobody appears to hate Old Glory more than our current president. Who spied on the American people? Bush. Who sent our kids off to die in a nonsense war? Bush. Who undid all the compacts that Clinton secured through the EPA with our most notorious corporate polluters? Bush.
Another person who speaks in thinly-veiled lingo is actually one of the owners of the company for which I toil. Her thing is, “I don’t like Obama’s pastor”, and you hear that a lot. Since Jeremiah Wright said the dastardly things they heard them say, they wonder what effect that must have had on Obama’s thinking. What does it say about his character?
I don’t know. Rev. Wright, like Al, spent his youth serving the Marine Corps, so I wouldn’t presume to squelch his First Amendment rights. In any case, if this is the litmus test, why wasn’t she bothered by the religious proclivities of George W. Bush? He’s changed denominations three times - started out as a Lutheran, switched to Baptist as a vote-grabbing maneuver, and now claims to be a Methodist. John McCain was until just recently an Episcopalian. Now, of course, he’s a Baptist.
What does that say about their character, other than that they have none? But they’re not Black, so they get a pass. (Religious intolerance is alive and well among conservatives; ask Mitt Romney about that.)
Then there are those, like my Mom, who continue to call Obama a “neophyte”. Maybe McCain can’t play the experience card anymore, but she sure can. Well, of course he’s lacking in experience. Everyone except Grover Cleveland has been OJT upon arriving at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
Hell, Obama’s only the third U.S. Senator of African descent since the Reconstruction, so I’m not sure what sort of experience these people are looking for… Some might have a legitimate gripe in this regard, but for too many others, the point they won’t make is that he’s Black.
McCain himself found an argument that seemed to skirt racism, and it almost worked: Obama’s a celebrity! As if any Republican wouldn’t fall to his knees and kiss the spikes of Tiger Woods should he ever grace the presence of their Country Clubs. Besides, isn’t the governor of California a celebrity, like, a real one? Ah, but he’s a Republican… And of course he’s not Black.
Why can’t they just say it? It almost happens on AM radio most days - they call Obama “arrogant”, which is listed in my copy of Roget’s Thesaurus as another word for “uppity”. My sweetheart’s Dad came pretty close when he whispered to me (in the safety of his own home, no less), “He’s gonna screw Whitey.” I pointed out that most, if not all, of Obama’s living relatives happen to be “Whitey”.
One person, my friend Rose, actually came out and said it in a moment of weakness. “But he’s Black,” she said in a cautiously low voice (we were in a bar). “Yeah,” I replied, “But Dubya’sWhite, and nobody has screwed up the country more than he has.” She had to agree. Hopefully the sheer bluntness of that exchange was enough to shake her up.
This is all very terrible stuff, and should not give you hope for the future, no matter your ideological leanings. I’m not trying to call anyone out. It’s a discussion we’d all love to avoid if we could - and we can. In America, you can be a racist if you want to, particularly in the confines of the voting booth. You’re all alone in there, see.
All alone, because if you are willing to stake our future on (or against) someone based on nothing more than the color of his skin, your soul left you a long time ago. And the outcome of this election is the least of your problems.
pH 9.o2.o8
A big round of applause goes out to Arizona’s senior Senator, John McCain, for his choice as running mate in the upcoming election. Sarah Palin, Governor of Alaska, not only represents the most laughable appointment since that of Harriet Miers, she may even be equipped to do the job as it has been defined of late.
From the Democrats’ point of view, McCain’s V.P. pick must seem like nothing short of tactical brilliance. Sure, Barack Obama may have weakened the age argument by teaming up with 67-year old Joe Biden, but that wasn’t his primary tack anyway. Is McCain crazy for taking Palin? Or cagey? It depends on your constituency.
Who could possibly be less ready than the first-term governor of one the nation’s least populous states, a state that has to give money to its citizens to keep them living there? Her foreign policy chops are limited to Eskimo issues and crab-fishing boundaries. She possesses all the energy-policy nuance (and gravitas) of Drillbit Taylor.
Before occupying the Executive Cabin, she was actually Mayor Palin of Wasilla, Alaska. Nice place, clean air… And census figures in the low quintuple-digits during the busy season.
Prior thereto, she sat on the Wasilla City Council and was also a member of the PTA. She was even the runner-up in a beauty pageant once. All of that experience, given our recent history, may in fact prepare her perfectly for the path ahead. What better prospect could there be to lead the world’s smallest parade?
Assuming the unlikely, Vice President Palin could put her iron-clad resume to work and crank out a whistle-stop tour of rummage/bake sales, with the proceeds to benefit our veterans. That would be in keeping with the amount of concern, and funding, put forth by John McCain and his fellow Republicans in that department.
She and her supporters are proud to tout her true strength: Ethics. But Governor Palin is currently under investigation, by her state’s legislative body, for possibly using the power of her office to run off a former in-law from the State Police force. This bodes well for the future of anyone who might have to work around today’s Justice Department.
Some question why a woman with five children (one just a few months old) would want to leave them all behind to run off to Washington, but it shouldn’t be her children that raise the eyebrows. Not when there are already rumors that her daughter Bristol is enjoying a pregnancy out of wedlock - consistent with family values as practiced by conservative headliners over the past few years.
Nobody could be so qualified as the governor of Alaska when it comes to being kept in the dark or left out in the cold. I sure hope the American public takes a closer look at Sarah Palin than John McCain apparently did. His chances, and her bona fides, add up to the same thing.
Mooseburgers.
pH 8.29.o8
Are the Olympics over yet? I neglected to watch. Bravo for our team and all that, but really, did China deserve to have American athletes participating? If one believes that boycotting Moscow in 1980 was the right thing to do, then one surely cannot accept that the last bastion of Communism was fit to host these Games. Anyway…
I got a new shirt a couple of weeks ago, nothing fancy, just a Nike tee from Mervyn’s. It’s a shame that Mervyn’s - like so many companies these days - is having such a rough time, because most of their clothes are NOT made in China. They actually come from all over the globe, with varying degrees of worker rights among the points of origin.
I genuinely like the shirt, but I soon discovered a small hole in the front, basically located at “nine o’clock” on my stomach. This does not serve well my ascent to the top of the pyramid. In short, it sucks.
Then I realized that the same thing had happened to the “Justice is Coming” tee-shirt I picked up in Tombstone. Same size hole, same place. And my Buck Fush shirt, same damn thing. Going back through the years, I was struck by the fact that almost every tee-shirt I’ve ever owned (or liked enough to remember) has had that hole in it.
This became a real puzzle. Am I being stalked by a moth with a grudge? Do I have an acid-producing pore on my abdomen, perhaps a leftover side-effect of an unremembered extraterrestrial abduction? Is the deteriorating ozone layer focusing the rays of the sun on my belly, rendering me an ant at the mercy of a universal magnifying glass?
M’darling said that it was no such phenomenon, because I’m a carrier, a mule, an unglorified forklift. People see me and say, “Hello, dolly.” My front bears the brunt of whatever happens to be cradled in my arms, and as I’ve said before, sometimes there are sharp edges and corners in life.
Seems plausible, I guess; it’s certainly not untrue. I considered all of this as I opened another bottle of beer - a twist-off, using my shirt as a makeshift glove to avoid the soreness that comes with using one’s bare hands on such sharp objects. Only then did I become aware of my own slowness, like a Republican waking up in 2007.
It’s an old question: What else don’t I know?
(Is the convention over yet?)
pH 8.28.o8
Someone poked the Russian Bear.
How mentally challenged does a government leader need to be to provoke a war with Russia? It’s an honest question, almost rhetorical in nature, since the same government also changed the name of one of its streets to George W. Bush Avenue.
Georgia - not as in Atlanta - found itself in a heap of trouble three days ago, and now lies in heaps of rubble. Its port has been blockaded by the Black Sea Fleet. Georgian troops that were trained and equipped by U. S. forces were last seen clinging to overloaded cars, trucks and buses, desperate to get out ahead of the advancing Red Army.
For their part, the Russians are doing what the Russians usually do. Troops poured across the border and into flanking positions in unrestive Abkhazia. Tanks rolled in. Paratroopers fell from the sky. Thousands of rockets, and even a few ballistic missiles, were launched. Bombs were dropped at the rate of 27 tons per serving.
There is grand irony to go along with this gruesome carnage in that Moscow’s fury was triggered by Georgia’s attack on the breakaway province of South Ossetia. So Russia is now doing to Georgian cities what it did to Grozny when Chechnya committed the unforgiveable sin of becoming… a breakaway province.
Georgian troops were quickly pushed out of South Ossetia and into a fast-break retreat. The Ukraine, which leases ports to the Black Sea Fleet, indicated earlier that it might not allow those naval vessels to return to their bases. The Bear paused only to growl in their direction, and such talk evaporated.
At this point, Russia seems intent on unilaterally annexing Georgia, deposing the democratically elected regime. They’re annihilating everything on the map. The U.N. can’t stop them, because Russia has a seat on the Security Council and a veto vote. The conflict doesn’t fall under NATO’s umbrella, and in any case, they can’t even beat the Taliban right now.
Georgia has cried out to the West for something more than moral support. As it is, American planes are transporting 2,000 Georgian troops from Iraq to their home country, or what’s left of it, if there’s still an airport by the time they get there. And we don’t know what will happen once the Russians meet our troop presence, some 130 soldiers.
Why should all of this raise the hackles on your neck? Because it involves oil. Georgia is home to a vital oil pipeline leading to a vital oil terminal, and this administration has been known to make some fairly bizarre decisions where oil is concerned. And because Vladimir Putin is on the other end of the red phone.
The Bear is out of its cage. A fledgling democracy is going limp in its bloody jaws. The clock is ticking. And the Gipper graduated a long, long time ago.
pH 8.11.o8
With John McCain just three months away from shuffleboard season, all concerned citizens can start thinking about what they ought to expect from their new government. The next couple of years may be interesting, but they most probably will not be pretty.
Even if the Republican nominee somehow wins the White House, Congress is in for a fresh influx of Democrats. The House will likely be able to override any veto, and the Senate may even end up with a filibuster-proof majority. Bully for them; stripping all power from the GOP is what it appears to be - a good first step.
Then what? With or without a President Obama, there are plenty of rotten branches that need to be pruned from the liberal tree. This goes far beyond the usual “blue-dog” Democrats and cobwebbed antiques like Carl Levin, Robert Byrd and Joe Biden, career politicians who can’t recall the last time they cashed a paycheck that you didn’t sign.
Start with Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, who is about as dynamic and exciting as he is proactive and effective, which is to say not at all. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi stubbornly opposes even rudimentary impeachment procedures (probably because she knew too much about things like waterboarding and wiretapping from the start).
With four years gone by, DNC Chairman Howard Dean hasn’t done anything to make us forget his Primary Scream. John Conyers of Michigan seems intimidated by his own power, and besides that, he’s the one who admitted to Michael Moore that ”we don’t read most of the bills we pass.” Poor Steny Hoyer reminds me of the governor on the old sitcom Benson.
Dianne Feinstein has been in and out of bed, so to speak, with the oil companies and voted to confirm Attorney General and Obfuscation Czar Michael Mukasey. Jane Harman seems afflicted with an Operation TIPS mindset. Forget Joe Lieberman - his Democratic constituents dumped him two years ago. Now he’s a McCain supporter who calls himself an Independent.
Those are, of course, just the most obvious ones. By and large, these are still the same Dummy-crats who ran up a string of losses to Bush and his cronies before public frustration finally boiled over two years ago. Those same fed-up voters should carry them even further this time, but how many really believe they deserve it?
Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not lecturing anyone on their political choices; that’s just human nature. Many seats are filled today based on sheer mental axiom, because most everyone prudently agrees that OP’s (Other Politicans) are bad, but that their own representative deserves another chance.
Maybe that’s true, in some instances… But you know what they say about old dogs and new tricks.
pH 8.o6.o8
It’s time for the semi-regular feature, Bouquets and Brickbats, except that I’m all out of bouquets, and down to just one brickbat. Anyone out there ever actually seen a brickbat, by the way? It’s not what you might think - not a bat used to break up bricks, nor a flying-mason-rat creature (that’d be our president).
It’s just a chunk of broken brick is all, which can be thrown in any offending direction. Or dropped on one’s foot. Anyway, this one’s for Tom Brokaw. You know they’ve found the coelacanth off the coast of Madagascar, a dinosaur-fish long believed to be extinct, marvelous discovery. Did they have to give him Meet the Press?
This country lost a valuable asset, and a good man, when Tim Russert died. NBC News is all the worse for it. The shock had barely worn off before everyone realized that his replacement as America’s Sunday morning moderator - just through the election, honest - is the same old boob that we all grew tired of so many years ago.
Like most folks in these here United States, I’ve got cable. If I wanted to watch slow-pitch softball, I remember thinking while watching Brokaw’s return to modern media, there’s a channel for that somewhere. His schmoozing with oil executives in Wyoming was a table-setter for things to come.
Last Sunday, on location in London, the liver-spotted stand-in got to play with the big boys. His guest was Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama, who was fresh off a speech before some 200,000 people in Germany.
Brokaw both looked and sounded a wee bit drunk, which was startling until you remembered the time change across the pond. Argumentative and armed with GOP talking points, Brokaw tried to browbeat the very patient Obama, flinging negative commentaries from various conservatives at him in hopes that something might stick.
For instance, whereas an actual newsperson would have presented a variety of views, Brokaw quoted two right-wing columnists, Charles “The Cabbage Mallet” Krauthammer and David Brooks (also known as “Brooks the Magic Dragon”). Those two aren’t merely on the same page; they’re separated Siamese Twins who used to be joined at the brain.
Of course, tearing down Obama is going to be a lot easier than building up John McCain. We’ll see how Brokaw handles the senior Senator from Arizona. If he’s going to keep the same tone, the questions will look like this: Have you brushed up on your geography? Can you send your own e-mail yet? Are you able to get the cap off a pill bottle by yourself (or does Cindy handle that)?
I’m not sure what to call it, but it sure as Hell wasn’t objective journalism on Meet the Press last Sunday. Had that earthquake hit California just 48 hours earlier, they would not have thought it was a temblor, but that Tim Russert was spinning in his grave.
pH 7.31.o8
Finally, a reasonable question comes across the board: Who is Jack Ryan, and why can’t his posts be read? This concern, a free-speech issue if ever one existed, was tacked onto the end of a previous column. Actually, it was tacked on twice, and I only meant to delete the redundant query.
Unfortunately, both got lost. So there’s the question; here’s your answer:
“Jack Ryan” is a troll. A troll is, in a nutshell, an Internet fanatic. A fanatic is someone who, as Winston Churchill put it, cannot change his mind and will not change the subject. His posts are repetitious, pointless, puerile and pretty much devoid of substance.
For example, his last e-missive began with (yet another) disparaging remark about gays. Then came a rather irrelevant stab at explaining the laws of supply and demand. Then he went on to (further) insult Yours Truly, and even to insult Yours Truly’s mother, and not for the first time.
Basically, Jack Ryan is a fourth-grader schlepping around in a grown man’s body. He’s to be more pitied than scorned. His comments give every indication that he is stuck, literally, on AM talk radio. If the poor bastard is taking Rush Limbaugh’s advice, what else might he be taking? Rush Limbaugh’s pills? We have no way of knowing.
I didn’t want to ban him, which is why I merely turned him into a frog at first. But the amphibian lobby, understandably, got pissed off about that. So I had to outright flush him down the toilet, which is where all trolls belong. Any kid who has read about the Three Billy Goats Gruff knows that much.
As I have posted before, if you really want to numb out your forehead, only say the word and I will happily forward all of his posts to you. See, here’s the thing. I’m paying for this gig. There’s nothing that says I have to allow every random jackass to contribute whatever bits of stupid fluff might be floating through his cavernous brain.
He’s had every opportunity to keep the discourse civil, to keep it on an intellectual level, and he failed to do so. I tried to contact him and explain all of this, but wouldn’t you know it, his e-mail (cherie@yahoo.com) doesn’t seem to exist. Huh.
See? “Jack Ryan” is just another scared, uninformed, willfully ignorant little conservative. E pluribus unum. America is all done with them, and I am all done with him.
pH 7.25.o8
We can all relax now; gas prices are coming down. Why, I spotted it for $3.94 a gallon at an ARCO station yesterday. Looks like conservation works! And it may go down even more when the Olympics begin, and the Communists start pulling all the cars off Beijing’s streets.
See how silly it is to panic? Especially in an election year?
So there goes the argument for drilling, although the oil companies don’t seem to want to drill at all. They just want leases covering more territory in which they might drill if the notion were to ever strike them. They’re already holding and neglecting about 70 million acres in leases, including some fairly rich land right next to the desirous Alaskan National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR).
However, even if we started drilling today, it would take ten years to get the first barrels to the market, not exactly instant relief. Even then, the market will either swallow it all and digest the two percent difference, or OPEC will commensurately decrease its production to negate our gains. Ah, well.
Barack Obama says that oil is tyranny, and it has always been that, but prior price spikes have subsided in the past. This time nobody is predicting any such decompression.
Yeah, things have gotten so bad that nuclear power suddenly seems like a rational idea. As with drilling, I’m all for giving them a green light on that… All they have to do is make it so that the taxpayers won’t have to insure those towers - to date, no private insurance company has been willing to write that policy.
The alternatives are being largely ignored. There is little incentive to either increase production or explore renewable energy when there is so much money to be made under current conditions. Therefore, this administration’s energy policy - its entire economic policy - amounts to nothing more than a porno flick.
Fortunately or otherwise, the movie’s almost over. Beginning next year, the Democrats will have a headlock on Congress (and probably the White House) which should lead to several measures, such as implementing tariffs, lifting the curtain on oil futures and, oh yes, taxing and rebating certain companies’ windfall profits.
The United States has just endured a period in which corporate tax rates were at historic lows, and profits ran at all-time highs. This country doesn’t have to limp around like some wounded waterfowl. Not when we’ve got a nice pair of solid-gold, ivory-handled, diamond-encrusted crutches.
See how silly it is to panic? Especially in an election year.
pH 7.17.o8
Dig none too deeply into the wormy earth and you will find someone who is willing to spout out loud that “God is on our side.” Equally disturbing are those who believe that “Divine Providence” led to the founding of our nation. These views are commonly held by the most ignorant of all American subcultures - conservatives.
In 1787, when Benjamin Franklin exited Independence Hall at the close of the Constitutional Convention, he was asked, “What have we got, a Monarchy or a Republic?” His curt reply: “A Republic, if you can keep it.” Not exactly a ringing endorsement of his faith in the Almighty.
There is absolutely no logic in the argument that God wants anybody to wage, much less win, any war. Would any higher power have waited ’til He’d seen “the whites of their eyes” before firing on the British? Could any supreme being lose its toes to frostbite at Valley Forge?
Of course not. The poor Colonists did, and they deserve a bit more credit than unctuous right-wingers would ever give them (then again, disparaging veterans is hardly new territory for them).
Then there’s this: In the Revolutionary war, the Redcoats also believed that God was “on their side”. So when God won, God also lost, and that doesn’t happen. God doesn’t work that way.
Two-hundred and twenty-one years later, we find ourselves led by a modern crusader, George W. Bush. He too is convinced that God is on our side, and that God in fact talks to him, which begs the question: Who Would Jesus Torture?
Anyway, since when does the beacon of the free world ape the methods of its worst enemies? That’s Osama bin Laden’s game - killing in the name of Allah. Religion with a violent bent is what got us into this mess in the first place.
Make no mistake about it - people do pray in times of war. They also pray before, during and after hurricanes. They also pray at football games. And at NASCAR races. They pray before pregnancy tests. They pray with their right hands on slot-machine handles.
You want to find God? Look in the more likely places (for instance, in nature). In the Old Testament it says Thou Shalt Not Kill, and in the New Testament we were instructed by Jesus to Turn The Other Cheek. In neither case does it say Cluster Bomb Thy Neighbor.
pH 7.o7.o8
What is it, only June? And already the prejudice has begun to trickle down from the top tiers of the Republican Party. Disgusting? Yes. Predictable? Oh, yes. Shameful? No, not really. They don’t much feel that.
Conservative “activist” Grover Norquist, whose parents were no doubt fans of Sesame Street, has bluntly informed the Los Angeles Times that he considers Democratic candidate Barack Obama to be “John Kerry with a tan.”
A tan. (Sigh) I know that a good many Americans were hoping that this election cycle could avoid such suck-holes as Grover Norquist and other affiliated 527 groups, but we can’t. Here we are.
Of course, this is the same political hack who bird-dogged McCain in the 2000 elections, and who in 2005 blasted him as a “nut-job from Arizona” and a “gun-grabbing, tax-increasing Bolshevik”. Naturally, they’ve patched up their differences since then, just as McCain has tried to mend fences with the Christian right.
This is also the same Grover Norquist who found himself in bed - figuratively speaking, of course - with Interior Secretary Gale Norton and the outfit known as CREA. In late 2006, when the Republicans still held Congress, a Senate investigative report stated that another one of Norquist’s nonprofit organizations “appeared to have perpetrated a fraud” with regard to the still-simmering Jack Abramoff scandal.
Who can forget, though, the statement that this same Grover Norquist made back when the Republican Party had a chokehold on the House and Senate (I know, I’ve beaten this horse before, but hey):
“Once the minority of House and Senate are comfortable in their minority status, they will have no problem socializing with [the opposition]. Any farmer will tell you that certain animals run around and are unpleasant, but when they’ve been fixed, then they are happy and sedate. They are contented and cheerful. They don’t go around peeing on the furniture and such.”
Yeah, he’s got a point there, except for the part about them being contented and cheerful. I guess you can’t have everything.
Anyway, thanks go out to Scoo- sorry (honest mistake), to Grover. Whoever’s hand is up his ass, forcing him to spout this racist crap, it isn’t doing John McCain any good. Therefore, he’s done a service to our country…
And we go forward.
pH 6.27.o8
Hey, did you know that John McCain is a Scientologist? You didn’t?
Scientology, the closely closeted cult that harbors Tom Cruise, John Travolta and other professional weirdos, is viewed with some suspicion by the majority of Americans. Funny thing, human nature. It always spins us in the direction of the familiar and away from things like Dianetics.
But no, McCain does not belong to the Church of Scientology (that I know of). Have we cleared that up? Great. Now we can also stop all the broadcast blather about Barack Obama being a Muslim.
Of course, it would take an amazing leap of stupidity to even wonder about that, since there was so much publicity about his controversial pastor, Reverend Jeremiah Wright… On the other hand, conservatives have won many blue ribbons in such events.
For his part, McCain is an Episcopalian who attends a Baptist church. I guess it makes sense in the context of conservatism. After all, President Bush has swapped out denominations three different times (and yet he still worships at the altar of capitalism). Consistency, especially that of the soul, is just too much to ask of these guys.
Pray to whomever you like. Be a weekend snake-charmer if that’s your thing. Bow before Baal if you want to. Scientology, autophrenology, entomology, it’s all good. Ours is a free society in which one can choose any religious affiliation, or none whatsoever. The Constitution explicitly prohibits any sort of religious test for elected officials.
Don’t bother trying to explain that to anyone to the right of Bob Barr. There is a certain stripe of citizen that is willing to forego the words of the Founding Fathers in favor of those of Cotton Mather. They equate their faith with their Party; neither has much to do with the good of the country.
Maybe that makes them fit to rule a Middle Eastern theocracy (actually, they’re not doing such a hot job at that, either), but they sure as Hell don’t belong here.
pH 6.25.o8
As the presidential race deteriorates into a mudslide, there is an early sense of desperation among conservatives. With so many disaffected factions (Seniors here, Evangelicals there, Fiscals scattered everywhere), the GOP doesn’t exactly have a consensus candidate. In the meantime, the battling Democrats have congealed much faster and with less rancor than anyone anticipated.
Behind his baseball cap and Blu-Blockers, John McCain looked like a lost tourist while, well, touring the flooded Midwest. All that was missing was the world’s largest ball of twine. Knowing that their candidate is at such a charismatic disadvantage, his supporters have no choice but to take the low road against Barack Obama.
It doesn’t get much lower than attacking a man’s wife, so naturally, that’s where the usual suspects have gone. Ever since her February comments (”For the first time in my adult life I am proud of my country because it feels like hope is finally making a comeback”) her life has become like a scene out of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds.
As many have pointed out, Michelle Obama’s “adult life” began in the early 1980s. That said, her point is perfectly debatable, but even McCain’s snarky wife Cindy had to chime in - first in February, and again recently - that she’s always been proud of her country. But the biggest offender, by far, has been Sean Hannity. His unhealthy obsession is noteworthy only in its fixative nature.
For his part, Barack has already addressed this once. Over a month ago, he warned the neo-pundits to “lay off my wife.” It seems a reasonable enough request; God knows Nancy Reagan’s a crackpot (albeit a loveable one), but nobody ever said that during Ronnie’s three presidential contests.
First Ladies only became fair game, actually, when Hillary assumed the position. In fact, criticism became so shrill and heated that Bill Clinton threatened columnist Bill Safire about it indirectly. His official statement, as declared by his spokeman: “If he were not the president, (he) would have delivered a more forceful response - on the bridge of Mr. Safire’s nose.”
Perhaps Obama needs to try that tack. Not on McCain… That would be elder-abuse. Hannity, though, certainly deserves to have his beak busted, and a skinny Gen-Xer from Chicago is just the man to do it. There would be some uproar at first, until the video made it to YouTube. Then the gap in the polls would become a yawing chasm.
Or, better yet for the sports books, let Michelle Obama and Cindy McCain (ten years her senior, by the way) wrestle it out in a vat filled with cooked pasta. At least present the public with a claymation MTV Celebrity Death Match. Come on. As long as we’re going to act like a bunch of gawkers in this election…
pH 6.21.o8
Quite some time ago, I wrote in this space that only the Powell Doctrine applies to Iraq anymore. We broke it, we bought it, and the United States bears the responsibility for restoring that country no matter what it takes. Repeat: That was quite some time ago.
It is clear now that Iraq is beyond our capacity to repair. Oh, I hear you - violence is down (except in the cases where it occurs). Well, sure it is. The opposing factions have had over five years to segregate themselves and to set up defensive positions. Worse, another half a million Iraqis have fled their country in the past year alone.
If you think about it, the situation there isn’t too much different from the one that has for so long dogged Israeli-Palestinian relations. With that as a model, it is obvious that we could indeed stay in Iraq for (as John McCain suggests) a hundred years… At least sixty that we know of.
The surge has proven only one thing: Nobody wants to directly confront American troops on account of the kind of consequences that fall from the sky and explode. (See? Arabs learn.) The only way one can honestly say that “the surge is working” is if one understands that the purpose of the surge was to keep the war going until after Bush had left office.
One candidate in the race for the White House can see how this is wearing on our soldiers. One candidate understands that diplomacy - the only tactic not tried in this war - is necessary to facilitate our exit, and that such must take place if we are to stay afloat in the global economy.
The other candidate is pro-defense contractor, and he’s as wrong about this as he is about tax cuts, health care and darn near everything else. I don’t think too many people will need to flip a coin this year.
As for the Powell Doctrine, it will need to go back for some revision. It appears to be missing a chapter at the end, one that consists of just two little words, two little words that have been lacking for far too long in this country, two little words that no sitting Republican this side of Ron Paul is even willing address.
What next?
pH 6.19.o8
As you pump your kids’ college tuition into the gas tank of your car, truck or SUV, take solace in the fact that the Oil Administration is well on its way to fossilization. That’s the real driving force behind skyrocketing fuel prices. They know they’ve only got a few more months to screw us, which they’re doing to the last drop.
Several myths have already been shattered in the past few years. Mass transit, for instance, actually works. What doesn’t work is the "free market". After the way our economy has been scuttled, that much is crystal clear. Anyone saying otherwise is a pedophile applying for a job at a day-care center, nothing more.
Nationally, we will come to our senses once the last vestiges of conservatism have been purged from our government. A Democratic president will be able to work wonders with a Democratic Congress in restoring sanity to our Cheneyed-up energy policy.
The most obvious thing government can do to change this global crisis is end the bloody Iraq war already. Oil-producing countries have stated that the rise in the price of oil is directly tied to the strength or weakness of the U.S. dollar. Speculators are killing us, too, but we’ll drag them to the lampposts later.
George W. Bush’s $800 billion sinkhole is behind the greenback’s decline, and will take generations to pay off. Being a debtor nation to China does not help the dollar, and belies another myth: That we remain a Superpower.
Whether we are or not, plenty can be done to conserve energy, to produce energy and to reduce dependence on foreign sources thereof. Get beyond the usual ideas of solar and wind - those are already proven commodities. And of course we can post 55 m.p.h. speed limits on our freeways. The airlines could easily be enticed to phase out their older, thirstier planes.
No doubt, we could develop and promote plug-in electric cars, or cars that run on compressed air, or on hydrogen fuel cells. We know about bio-fuels (and we now know to get them from non-food sources). Obviously, the nation’s heating-oil needs could be met with renewable crops like hemp or rapeseed.
Even Willie Nelson knows that big rigs can be run on used fry-oil from restaurants across the nation. All of these ideas would require considerable reworking of our nation’s infrastructure, but we’re going to need to address that problem anyway.
In the more immediate sense, price relief could be made possible in a number of ways. Raising the minimum wage would be a good place to start. Since inflation has snuffed pretty much any wage gains that have been made in the past thirty years, this is long overdue. Wailing business interests can be given the pacifier of a tax break on labor (that always shuts them up).
As for the oil companies, they’re going to have to suffer a little bit. Sorry, but the boom years are over, and a fair share must be paid. Tax increases will have to be attached to their profits, and the money will have to be sent back to the people in the form of gasoline rebates.
A much worse fate should await OPEC members and other countries that produce oil. Export tariffs ought to be applied to anything those nations want from us. We could very easily peg the price of a bushel of grain, for example, to the price of a barrel of oil. Not fair, is it? But they need it, and they can afford it.
Prescription drugs, boats, airplane parts, any and every commodity should be marked up 500 percent if the purchaser is making money from oil. Don’t like it? Then buy grain from someone else… But any other country would be foolish to sell it for less than we would - the free market, you know.
And, yes, we should probably start drilling for our own oil, and start refining our own gasoline, to ease us through the transition that must come if the world economy is to survive. Better yet, we should help Mexico and Canada extract their own resources. Even nuclear power deserves another look.
In the meantime, oil that was purchased by American taxpayers for only a few dollars a barrel sits in the Strategic Petroleum Reserve. That should be bled back into the domestic market to bring our prices in line with, say, Mexico’s (where price caps stay below three dollars a gallon - ask anyone in San Diego).
As for the average person, there are any number of ways to lessen the pain as we wait out the Oil Administration. Trade it in. Tune it up. Carpool. Inflate your tires with nitrogen. Walk or bike to work, or rediscover your love of motorcycles. Use electric lawn equipment. Lay off the plastics. Ship via rail. Eat less beef.
Most of all, keep hating on those SUV drivers, whose fault this really is. Your middle finger can do wonders for our economy.
pH 6.1o.o8