Tuesday, October 02, 2007

The Profit

“Am I a prophet or what?” Asked Sir Gimp one fine autumnal afternoon.

“What?” asked the Lovely One.

“I said, am I a prophet, or what? Don't be alarmed. I'm simply asking myself a rhetorical question.”

“Oh, I see. Well, are you? A prophet?”

“Am I? Perhaps...yes...perhaps I am.”

“How so? You do have the beard, and a cane with which you can part the waters. But you really do need that extra little pizazz to qualify for prophet status.”

“I do? You mean my diabetic Jewish ancestry isn't enough?”

“No...I don't think so.”

“How about the ability to predict the future. With stunning accuracy?”

“Well, that would do it, it think. What d'ya got?”

“Two years ago to this very day (Sept. 19), I made a prediction that has just come true.”

“Oh yeah? Just what might that happen to be?”

“I predicted on this very blog that one day Dowd, Friedman, Krugman et all would receive a “get out of jail free” card. And today they did.

"I don't understand? Explain please."

Sir Gimp heaved a heavy sigh. "Two years ago some bright spark on the New York Times decided that they could make a lot of loot by putting their columnists inside a lock box (or jail) and charging a subscription fee of about 50 bucks per year to read their missives. Many of us in the Internet community felt betrayed. We looked upon the New York Times as “America's newspaper.” I was so pissed that I wrote an email to the Times and posted it in the Gimpblog. Let's see....” Sir Gimp makes a few clicks with his mouse and locates the famous blog entry he wrote two years ago.

I am referring, of course, to your new policy of only letting wealthy people have access to important writings from Friedman, Dowd, Krugman, etc. If one can't afford $200 a year for a paper subscription or $50.00 for online reading, than one is out of luck. You are putting your columnists in a "lock box" that will take these great writers out of the public eye and reserve their works for only those who can pay....Do you plan to change your slogan from "all the news that fits" to "all the news you can afford?" So much for a public service.

...What does this denote for journalism? Rather, Jennings, Brokow, are gone as well. Is this the tipping point for the “old media.” Will Times readers now increasingly turn to the Internet blogs for their news? I know I will.

“Yeah,I remember that. You held a wake called the 'Day the Newspaper Died.' The Times new 'economic model' was a big topic in the blogging community.”

“Yeah, but do you also remember how crazy it was? During the last few years, the take from subscriptions to the newsprint version had been significantly declining as readers flocked to the Internet in droves. So what did the Times braniacs come up with? A strategy to drive away Internet readers. By putting a lockbox around their most read columnists and other premium features, they hoped to grow rich on the $50 per year subscription fee for their premium content which they called Times Select.”

The Lovely One could hardly contain herself, the excitement of this unfolding drama had kept her riveted on the edge of her proverbial seat and she unconsciously began biting her fingernails, something she hadn't done since she was hippie wannabe trying to hitch a ride to Height-Asbury in the late '60's.

“So what happened?”

“Until today, no one knew. The Times staff kept the result of their new “business model” to themselves. But the prophets in the blogging community, including yours truly, predicted the utter and abject failure of this “new business model.” I for one encouraged all recipients of the Gimp International Newsletter, Propeller Head Gazette, to boycott both the Times print and online editions and to bookmark the Huffington Post, a new progressive online journal. And today we the the blogging prophets of the digital era were supremely vindicated. Even the bean counters in the shrinking Times offices had joined the revolution. The old soul stirring battle cry, “Free Huey!” had become “Free Content!”

Here's what the Times had to say about this capitulation of the old guard:

The Times said the project had met expectations, drawing 227,000 paying subscribers — out of 787,000 over all — and generating about $10 million a year in revenue.

“But our projections for growth on that paid subscriber base were low, compared to the growth of online advertising,” said Vivian L. Schiller, senior vice president and general manager of the site, NYTimes.com.

What changed, The Times said, was that many more readers started coming to the site from search engines and links on other sites instead of coming directly to NYTimes.com. These indirect readers, unable to get access to articles behind the pay wall and less likely to pay subscription fees than the more loyal direct users, were seen as opportunities for more page views and increased advertising revenue.

“What wasn’t anticipated was the explosion in how much of our traffic would be generated by Google, by Yahoo and some others,” Ms. Schiller said.

An “Aha!” moment shattered the Lovely One's hypnotic trance. “Well duh! I get it” she said, jumping up and down and almost wetting her pants. “I really get it! The business model failed. They only got about one in five readers to susbscribe, and who knows how many readers they lost.”

“Yeah, and now I hear that Dowd, Krugman and Friedman have formed a singing group called The Paper Tigers and just released a YouTube video of Puff the Magic Dragon. Bloggers rule! Free content rules!” declared our impish gimp as he propellers began a victory spin. “Take a look a the Times latest ad:

“Now you'll excuse me. I have to write an article announcing our victory in the next issue of Propeller Head Gazette, coming soon to an inbox near you!

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Dominoes, Anyone?

The concentration was intense. The sweat was pouring off his brow. Steam was beginning to rise out his ears and his propellers were without movement. He saw a move and hoped that she wouldn't make it first. What could produce such deadly concentration in our intrepid Sir Gimp? A world crises, market crash, famine? No my friends, none of these. It was an old parlor game. Not Monopoly, Scrabble or even Go Fish. Nor was it chess, the classic game of concentration. It was dominoes, one of the world's older games, developed in China about 1,000 years ago. Having lost repeatedly in Scrabble, Sir Gimp was determined to win at dominoes.

Fear not, dear reader, Sir Gimp was no dummy at dominoes, having twice read the classic work, “Dominoes for Dummies.” But as the Lovely One triumphantly placed her next domino on the table, his hopes for victory began to crumble.

He now realized that he might lose this game unless he could come up with a really great move...but try as he might, no great move seemed forthcoming. Then he remembered the Ultimate Strategic Move (USM) from the last chapter of his Dummy book. The USM stated that when all appeared lost, create a diversion! Something to take your opponents mind off a potentially winning strategy. But...how to do it? Bait and switch. That was it! It was an old trick but it almost always worked.

As he stared blankly at the played dominoes, from the depths of his twisted catacombs, a phrase began reverberating...domino effect, domino effect.... His reverie was abruptly interrupted by the Lovely One calling, “Hello! Anybody home? I've been waiting for almost ten minutes for you to make a move. While I was waiting I made tea and crackers for us.”

Sir Gimp gazed at her with a glazed look in his eyes. Suddenly he said, “Do you remember Vietnam?”

“Vietnam? What on earth are you talking about? That online class on the Sixties that you're taking?”

“No. Dominoes,” he said. “I'm talking about dominoes and the War in Vietnam.”

“What?”

“Don't you remember? Why did we go into Vietnam?”

“Well, I, uh, not really sure.”

“We went to keep Southeast Asia from falling in the hands of the Communists. Here's what the Wikipedia has to say.”

He flipped up the lid of his ever present laptop computer and after a few mouse clicks began to read:

The domino theory was a mid-20th century foreign policy theory, promoted by the government of the United States, that speculated that if one land in a region came under the influence of communism, then the surrounding countries would follow in a domino effect. The domino effect suggests that some change, small in itself, will cause a similar change nearby, which then will cause another similar change, and so on in linear sequence, by analogy to a falling row of dominoes standing on end. The domino theory was used by successive United States administrations during the Cold War to justify American intervention around the world.

“OK. So what?”

“What do you mean, so what? This is how we continue to justify our ongoing rampant imperialism. It's déjà vu all over again. Remember the “Iron Curtain?”

“Yeah, I think so. It was a boundary which symbolically, ideologically, and physically divided Europe into two separate areas from the end of World War II until the end of the Cold War, roughly 1945 to 1991.”

“You got that right. Well, now we have a new version and it's called...for $50,000 name the new version of the Iron Curtain. You have sixty seconds. Go!”

The Lovely One stumble and stammers “I...um...let me see...paper tiger...no...Maginot Line...no...”

Buzz. Buzz.

“Sorry, time's up. And the answer is...Shi'ite Crescent!”

“What the devil is that?”

Sir Gimp reads again from the Wikipedia:

...a recent geo-political term used to describe a region of the Middle East where the majority population is Shi'a, or where there is a strong Shi'a minority in the population. It has been used to describe the potential for cooperation among these areas in Middle Eastern politics...The nations where Shi'a Muslims form a dominant majority are Azerbaijan, Iran, Bahrain, Yemen and Iraq, a plurality in Lebanon and large minorities in Turkey, Pakistan, India and Syria. The shape of these countries put together does in fact resemble a crescent moon or a half moon.

“Now, why does this matter. I'll tell you why. Now that just about everyone knows that the occupation of Iraq has been a foreign policy disaster of epic proportions, there is a movement afoot to salvage the wreck that is Iraq by using an old sales tactic.”

“And what would that be,” asks the Lovely One?

“Ye old 'bait and switch'. One of the oldest tricks in the book. You see, we can salvage the Iraq debacle by shifting our attention to the 'real enemy', good ol' Iran. It's their fault that we can't win in Iraq. And if we lose in Iraq, then the domino theory conveniently comes back into play. See?”

Sir Gimp picked up eight dominoes and stacked them up next to each other. He pushed one over, knocking it into the next one. That one fell into the next one, and in a flash all the dominoes were knocked down.

“Now you see the domino effect, literally, my dear. We must bomb Iran into the stone age to prevent the domino effect from creating the Shi'ia Crescent; thereby making the world unsafe for democracy and big oil. End of history lesson.”

Sir Gimp, paused, exhausted from his passionate recitation of history. He gazed at the table with the scattered dominoes and the ruined domino game. “Time to start a new game,” he said. He took a sip of tea, munched on a cracker and asked with a twinkle in his eye, “Dominoes, anyone?”








Friday, September 08, 2006

Unquestioned Answers

From the Santa Cruz Metro Sept 6-13

Nonconspiracy theorist David Ray Griffin takes aim at the official 9/11 story

By Steve Bhaerman

ABOUT 10 years ago, I was asked to perform comedy at a conference I quickly dubbed "the Paranoids Conference." Each presenter had a dark tale to tell of abductions, drug running, assassinations and other nefarious horrors too terrible to mention. There were whispers of government agents in our midst, so when it was my turn to perform, I said I was with the CIA. I paused while the audience gasped. "That's the Comedians Institute of America." It got a laugh, but no amount of laughter could counterbalance the toxicity of the atmosphere. I couldn't wait to leave.

Fast-forward to a sunny Sunday afternoon early last year when I found myself in Santa Rosa's Church of the Rose to hear Dr. David Ray Griffin, author of a book on the 9/11 attacks called The New Pearl Harbor, as well as The 9-11 Commission Report: Omissions and Distortions. Griffin, a soft-spoken retired professor of theology with sandy, graying hair, proceeded to calmly and quietly dismantle the official 9/11 story. The room was filled to standing with people of all ages, many of whom attended the church. As Griffin made his case for how the official story could never have happened the way they said it did, I looked around me. Everyone was riveted, and yet I could detect no fear, no paranoia in the room.

People were hearing his message—the essentials of which are that our government likely knew about or had something to do with the 9/11 attacks—and yet there was something about his delivery that was reassuring. I've heard David Ray Griffin twice since then, once at a small gathering of world government advocates, the other time at the prestigious Commonwealth Club in San Francisco. Each event had a similar ambiEnce: a calm, thoughtful, scholarly presentation without the least hint of sensationalism or personal glory.

Whatever one's assumption of what a "conspiracy theorist" is like, David Ray Griffin doesn't fit the mold, perhaps because he's really a nonconspiracy theorist. While he methodically deconstructs the official story, he doesn't spin his own alternative yarn to fill the vacuum. Instead, he allows audience members to draw their own conclusions. As for conspiracy theories, he explains, "the official story is itself a conspiracy theory. As the accepted 'conspiracy theory' goes, a cadre of Al Qaeda operatives conspired to hijack four jetliners, did so undetected and were able to complete their mission with no interception or even interference from the best-prepared air force on the face of the earth."'

Even more unusual, Griffin says, "the crime was solved immediately, and the official story was in place before the day of the attack was over. Within 48 hours, our president stood at the National Cathedral surrounded by Billy Graham, a cardinal, a rabbi and an imam, and used this religious setting to declare a holy war on terror."

If we were to contrast the smoothness of the post-9/11 operation with the aftermath of Katrina, we are left with the question: How can a president so inept in one setting have been so "ept" in another?

False Flags

While Griffin professes no formulated alternative theory of what did happen, he offers a clue in the title of his first book. A New Pearl Harbor refers to a passage in a document called Project for the New American Century—the neocons' blueprint for what they call "pax Americana"—which says that for the American people to accept the overt military mission of creating security through world domination, a "new Pearl Harbor" would be needed. Griffin believes that the 9/11 attacks were just that.

This is a pretty serious—and horrific—assertion to make: that the leaders of our country would see fit to sacrifice some 3,000 civilians so that we could launch a pre-emptive attack on a perceived enemy. And yet, Griffin is quick to point out, our history is rife with just such incidents, from the "remember the Maine" boosterism preceding the Spanish-American war to the Gulf of Tonkin lie that launched U.S. involvement in Vietnam to the Pearl Harbor attacks themselves. Indeed, recent scholarship on Pearl Harbor suggests that President Roosevelt knew of the attack plan in advance and even purposely provoked the Japanese, because he knew it was the only way we could join the war against Germany. This in itself offers a dicey moral dilemma: Is it justified to sacrifice thousands of lives to save millions of lives?

During the Cold War, two more chilling examples of so-called false flag operations have come to light. (False flag operations are covert situations conducted by governments or other organizations that are designed to appear as if they are being carried out by other entities.) In his recent book, NATO's Secret Armies: Operation Gladio and Terrorism in Western Europe, Dr. Daniele Ganser, a senior researcher at the Center for Security Studies, Federal Institute of Technology in Zurich, reports that NATO, guided by the CIA, supported terrorist attacks on civilians in various European countries to discredit the left and create fear on the part of the populace.

In Italy, right-wing terrorists, supplied by a secret army (named "Gladio," Latin for "sword"), carried out bomb attacks in public places, blamed them on the Italian left and were thereafter protected from prosecution by the military secret service. As right-wing terrorist Vincenzo Vinciguerra explains in Ganser's book, "The reason was quite simple. They were supposed to force these people, the Italian public, to turn to the state to ask for greater security."

In our own country during the early '60s, the Joint Chiefs of Staff under the command of Gen. Lyman Lemnitzer came up with a similar plan to provoke an attack on Cuba. According to NSA myth-buster James Bamford in his 2001 Random House publication Body of Secrets: Anatomy of the Ultra-Secret National Security Agency, the Joint Chiefs called for undercover operation of terror within the United States that included plans for "innocent people to be shot on American streets; for boats carrying refugees fleeing Cuba to be sunk on the high seas; for a wave of violent terrorism to be launched in Washington, D.C., Miami and elsewhere. People would be framed for bombings they did not commit; planes would be hijacked. Using phony evidence, all of it would be blamed on Castro, thus giving Lemnitzer and his cabal the excuse, as well as the public and international backing, they needed to launch their war."

President John F. Kennedy nixed the plan immediately, and it was never put into action. But it did have the approval of top military brass, and with the right president—or the wrong one—it could very well have come about.

In the aftermath of 9/11, Griffin initially dismissed any speculation that the attacks could have been an inside job. "I subscribed to the 'blowback' theory," Griffin says. "After generations of exploitation and interference by Western powers, these people had such fury that they had to lash out any way they could."

At the time, Griffin, who was close to retirement from his position at Claremont School of Theology, was working on a book on global democracy. In the wake of 9/11, he decided that he needed a special chapter on U.S. imperialism. He worked on that chapter for over a year before he came to the view that 9/11 was an inside job. "As much as I knew about prior false flag operations, as much as I knew or thought I knew about the nefariousness of the current regime, my first take was not even the Bush administration could or would do such a thing."

Three Different Stories

It wasn't until a colleague sent Griffin an email with Paul Thompson's timeline—an exact, minute-by-minute accounting of the events of Sept. 11 based entirely on mainstream media accounts—that he changed his mind. "The most glaring anomaly," Griffin now says, "was that none of the hijacked planes were intercepted, even though all of them would have been, had standard procedure been followed."

According to Gen. Ralph Eberhart, head of North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD), from the time the FAA senses something is wrong, it takes about a minute to contact NORAD, after which NORAD, Eberhart says, can scramble fighter jets "within a matter of minutes to anywhere in the United States." So what happened on that morning?

The government has given three conflicting answers to this question.

Since a full 32 minutes elapsed between the time the first hijacked airliner was detected and the time it crashed into the World Trade Center, it initially appeared that "stand down" orders must have been issued to suspend standard procedures. Indeed, the first reports from both NORAD and Gen. Richard Myers, the acting chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, indicated that no jets were scrambled until after the Pentagon was hit at 9:38am.

By Sept. 13, however, the original story had morphed into an explanation that "the planes were scrambled but arrived too late." The delays were blamed on the FAA, said to have been slow in notifying NORAD. If that were the case, Griffin points out, it was strange indeed that no FAA personnel were fired or even cited for the breakdown in procedures and the resulting disaster. (Griffin notes, moreover, that the FAA flawlessly handled—on the same day—the unprecedented task of grounding thousands of domestic flights.)

Meanwhile, Griffin reports, transportation secretary Norman Mineta testified that at 9:20am—about 18 minutes before the Pentagon was hit, allegedly by Flight 77—he went down to the shelter conference room under the White House. According to Mineta, a young man walked in and said to the vice president, "The plane is 50 miles out," and later, "The plane is 30 miles out." When the young man reported, "The plane is 10 miles out," he also asked the vice president, "Do the orders still stand?"

"Of course the orders still stand," Cheney is alleged to have replied. "Have you heard anything to the contrary?"

When Mineta was asked by the 9/11 Commission how long after he arrived the conversation occurred, Mineta said, "Probably about five or six minutes," which would have placed it around 9:25 or 9:26am. However, in the final version of the story, The 9/11 Commission Report maintained that no one in our government knew about the approaching aircraft until 9:36am, too late to shoot it down. How did the Commission deal with this apparent contradiction? Like just about every other piece of testimony that conflicted with the official story, Griffin avers, they ignored it.

"With regard to the question 'Do the orders still stand?'" Griffin says, "Mineta seemed to assume those orders were to shoot the plane down. But really, the young man's question makes sense only if the orders were to do something unexpected—that is, not to shoot the plane down."

So what did happen? Whodunnit?

Again, Griffin prefers to focus on the circumstantial framework for examining the evidence. "You have a suspect who changes his story three times. Does this make him more or less suspicious?"

Collective Evil

Of course, the top echelon of leaders in this country aren't exactly your usual run-of-the-lineup perps—which, according to Griffin, is why those who've pointed fingers at the emperor's bare buttocks in this case have been marginalized like a bunch of tinfoil-headed kooks. No argument about this. I've asked a number of savvy authors and commentators why they haven't taken on the unanswered questions and unquestioned answers around 9/11. Their answers have been pretty much the same: It's just too big a stretch for most Americans to believe their own government could have had anything to do with it. However, in an exceedingly underreported Zogby poll done just last month, 42 percent of adults polled believe the U. S. government and the 9/11 Commission "concealed or refused to investigate critical evidence" that contradicts the official explanation of the attacks.

Perhaps what these reluctant commentators really meant is that they would be committing career suicide by questioning the official story. So why and how is David Ray Griffin different? And why is he spending his retirement traveling around the country writing and talking about something that conventional wisdom insists people don't want to hear?

Perhaps it has something to do with Griffin's background in "process theology." Process theology is specifically designed to answer such post-Holocaust questions as, How could a loving God have allowed such a thing to happen? Griffin has written or co-authored a dozen books and articles on the subject, and roughly the answer is this: We, as creations of the Creator, have free will to choose how and what we create in this life. This very often results in what we call "evil." On the other hand, our greatest power as human beings is to bring that loving God to earth by creating good instead.

To those who assert "God is dead," process theology says no, Griffin reasons. The loving God is alive in our thoughts and words and deeds. God doesn't intervene to set things right unilaterally. Rather, that spirit—through us—embodies divine love. In other words, the world changes—if we change it. Divine power, he says, is "persuasive, not controlling."

While Griffin's faith may be deep, it certainly isn't narrow. He recently edited a book called Deep Religious Pluralism.

"I've written two books on the problem of evil, so I've been dealing with the topic for a long time," Griffin says. "Frankly, as soon as I saw the evidence that 9/11 was an inside job, I wasn't surprised. I had studied the rise of Nazism and the Holocaust, the Japanese butchery of the Chinese in Manchuria, our use of nuclear weapons in Japan in spite of their imminent surrender. I've seen the depth of evil in collective situations. It's an old, old story, and this is just the latest chapter. Once the nation-state announces it is threatened, everything else gets pushed to the back burner. That's what we're seeing now."

Griffin's intention just over three years ago was to write an article for Harper's on what he then believed to be "foreknowledge and thwarted intelligence." But the more he saw evidence that the attacks were likely orchestrated by our own government, the more he felt a book was needed. Since none of the American investigators had been able to get a book published at that time, Griffin figured that as a published author he had a better chance.

But it was far from automatic. Richard Falk, a Princeton professor of international law and practice, had personally recommended Griffin's book to several publishers. Every one of them turned it down. "Not for us," said one rejection tersely. At dinner one night, Falk suggested Interlink Books, a tiny publisher that had published a recent book of his. Interlink took the book, but only because of a quirky coincidence. The editor was dubious. But knowing Griffin was a theologian, she asked her father, a minister, if he'd ever heard of the guy. "David Ray Griffin?" said her father. "I have all of his books!"

And so, in 2004, the book got published. But you'd never learn this from mainstream magazines and newspapers, which have yet to publish a review of The New Pearl Harbor, which has sold over 100,000 copies. Nor will you see him on mainstream TV, which has yet to invite him to appear.

Griffin seems unperturbed by this, and points out that each week and each month the alternative account of 9/11 gains wider credence. Is he afraid? Does he feel in danger? "Well," he jokes, "there are two possibilities. Either they leave me alone, or they take me out. If they leave me alone, I get to enjoy my old age and write my systematic theology. If they take me out, my 9/11 books go right to the top of the New York Times bestseller list. So it's a win-win situation."

More seriously, he points to his Christian faith (Disciples of Christ is his own background), and says that Christian history is full of examples of the faithful who stuck their necks out for the truth. "If we who believe in everlasting life fear death," he says, "what does that say about our faith?"

Myth-Informed?

Other than standing for his faith, what does Griffin hope to accomplish by exposing the 9/11 story as a lie? As an advocate for a worldwide democratic order, he sees this story as an example of "governmental lawlessness" so egregious that its exposure could call into question the continuation of the present system with its "anarchical competition between nation states." First, however, people must be willing to think the unthinkable, and to be willing to look at the evidence that it is our own nation that has become the evil empire.

This is a formidable barrier to cross. Ever since the notion of the "Big Lie" was first put forth to describe the tactics of the Third Reich, it has become a cliché that the bigger the lie, the harder it is for people to see the truth. This is especially so when the official version takes on the status of what theologian Griffin calls "sacred myth."

"The 'truth' of the official 9/11 story," explains Griffin, "must be taken on faith. It is not a matter of debate or even discussion. Anyone who brings up anything that contradicts the official story is either ignored or denounced as a conspiracy nut.

"However," he continues, "when the official account of 9/11 is stripped of its halo and treated simply as a theory rather than an unquestionable dogma, it cannot be defended as the best theory to account for the relevant facts. When challenges to it are not treated as blasphemy, it can easily be seen to not correspond with reality."

And so David Ray Griffin continues to make presentations, do interviews and get his version of the truth to "break the soundless barrier." With Falk, John B. Cobb Jr. and Catherine Keller, Griffin co-authored the just-published anthology The American Empire and the Commonwealth of God: A Political, Economic, Religious Statement. His own contribution portrays the 9/11 attacks as orchestrated to promote the American empire. Publishing in July is his newest book, Christian Faith and the Truth Behind 9/11: A Call to Reflection and Action.

His hope? That enough Americans wake up and call for a reinvestigation, and that those who know more will feel safe enough to come forward. But first, he says, we Americans must muster the will and courage to face the situation squarely in the face.

As a postscript to my interview with David Ray Griffin, I am reminded of a March 30 article by journalist Doug Thompson published on OpEdNews.com. In it, Thompson recalls a 1981 encounter with the late John Connally, the former governor of Texas who was wounded in the Kennedy assassination. In an unguarded moment, Thompson asked Connally, "Do you think Lee Harvey Oswald fired the gun that killed Kennedy?"

"Absolutely not," Connally said. "I do not, for one second, believe the conclusions of the Warren Commission."

"So why not speak out?" Thompson asked.

"I will never speak out publicly about what I believe," Connally replied, "because I love this country and we needed closure at the time."

Now here we are more than 40 years after that devastating perpetration and we have to wonder, how well did "closure" serve us? As we see daily the fruits of self-serving secrecy and unchecked power, it might be time for some disclosure instead.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

America Held Hostage



Dear Friends,

I have been very busy trying to get a handle on what is really going in the Middle East. After much study and reasearch, the article below is the best, deepest, and most complete explanation I've found. It is written by Justin Raimondo editor of the web site, Antiwar.com. I know it is a long article, but if you read only one article, this would be the one. On the eve of the coming ground invasion of Lebenon by Israel, let's send our love and hope to the people in this troubled region and pray for an immediate cease fire.

And don't forget Iraq. While the Israel/Lebanon conflict is grabbing all the headlines, our little Iraq escapde has erupted into a full scale civil war, with over 6,000 killed in May and June alone.

Peace,

Sir Gimp


-----------------------------------------------

July 21, 2006
America Held Hostage
It's day 10 – and Israel is still threatening the lives of 25,000 Americans in Lebanon
by Justin Raimondo

The Israelis are dropping leaflets, as well as bombs, over Beirut. Aside from warnings to stay away from Hezbollah facilities, this little missive stands out:

"We all know from the experience of the past few days the massive strength of Israel and its readiness to use this power against the terrorist elements.

"The saying goes: those who sleep in graveyards have nightmares."

With all of Lebanon becoming one big killing field, the Israelis should be the last ones talking about graveyards and who sleeps in them. As of Wednesday, "at least 300 people, mostly Lebanese civilians, and including 29 Israelis, had died in the fighting." One thousand Lebanese wounded, and half a million refugees.

What's interesting about this screed, however, is the preening, bullying tone. Note the "massive power" trope and the taunting reminder that the assault has only gone on for a "few days" – the clear implication being that it could go on much longer. Wednesday the story was that the Bush administration would give the Israelis a week to degrade Hezbollah's military capability, and then they'd send Condi in to patch things up.

Thursday morning, however, as the bird sings outside my window, I awake to the news that the IDF is insisting on two weeks. In two weeks, they'll be saying a month more – and the Americans will start to get antsy. The Arab killer regimes that back the bashing of Hezbollah are fidgeting nervously as pictures of the slaughter are beamed around the world: the Egyptians, for one, are reportedly furious that Bush refuses to endorse calls for a cease-fire. Any other American president would have long ago made such a pronouncement and fulfilled America's mediating role, in line with our status as the predominant power in the region.

But not this president. This is all about Israel, and not the U.S., as the dominating power in the Middle East. Bush's indifference to American interests and craven appeasement of the Israelis has led him to stand helplessly by as Israeli fighter jets paid for by American taxpayers drop U.S.-made ordnance on American citizens. There are 25,000 U.S. nationals in Lebanon, for all intents and purposes held hostage by the IDF. Instead of taking the Israelis to task for putting Americans at risk – without warning, and without apology – George W. Bush gave them the green light to keep up the bombing and the blockade for as long as they can get away with it.

The scandal over the reimbursement demanded by the State Department for rescuing U.S. citizens trapped in Lebanon will pale as Americans realize why it took so long to even begin the difficult task of getting our people out of there safely. Garance Franke-Ruta reports the outrageous truth on the American Prospect's weblog:

"A reliable source tells me that the reason the United States has been so slow in evacuating its citizens from Lebanon is that the public diplomacy (i.e., P.R.) issues raised by evacuating under Israeli assault are so complicated. Individuals within the State Department, I am told, have been reluctant to create an impression that the Israeli assault on Lebanon is as bad as it is or that civilian U.S. citizens are being threatened by U.S. ally Israel. If a conflict this severe had broken out in, say, Indonesia, the American embassy would have been shut down the next day and its personnel and families rapidly brought to safety. That's how things normally work. (See Laura Rozen on the evacuation from Albania here.) In this case, however, the diplomatic message sent by shutting down the U.S. embassy in the face of Israeli bombing would have contradicted the U.S. government message of support for the Israeli mission against Hezbollah terrorists, which, when added to the general concern within lower-level diplomatic circles about ever creating a Fall of Saigon-style visual for the news media, have led the Americans to be slower than they could have been about getting U.S. citizens out of harm's way."

In my last column, I likened the slowness of the American response to the federal government's hapless efforts to deal with the effects of Hurricane Katrina, a comparison made by many others. However, the Lebanese disaster is much worse than what happened in New Orleans and environs. This isn't incompetence: the U.S. government made a conscious decision to delay the rescue mission to avoid embarrassing the Israelis. The Bush administration can always be counted on to put Israel first – ahead even of the welfare and very lives of American citizens.

When it comes to kowtowing before the Israel lobby, however, Congress outdoes the executive branch by several degrees of servility. Pat Buchanan was exactly right when he described Congress as "Israeli-occupied territory." A resolution giving unconditional support to Israel passed the Senate unanimously: and, in the House, a similar measure passed overwhelmingly. Not that everyone who voted for it is proud of his or her vote: in the negotiations leading to the introduction of the resolution by the Republicans, Democratic leader Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) pledged to vote for the resolution and speak on its behalf, but refused to be a co-sponsor. Or, as Roll Call put it, she refused to "attach her name to it." Does she really imagine this kind of obfuscation is going to provide adequate cover on her left flank? The antiwar faction of her party, large and growing, is already on to her brand of warmongering, and she knows it. In any case, it takes a special kind of cowardice to slither around the issue with such snake-like alacrity.

The Democrats are competing with the GOP to see who can praise the Israeli blitzkrieg in the most obsequiously extravagant terms. Senate Democratic leader Harry Reid made a fire-breathing speech in favor the resolution, Hillary Clinton declared her "unreserved support" for the invasion, and even Russ Feingold, ostensibly the antiwar candidate among the Democratic presidential wannabes, averred:

"I stand firmly with the people of Israel and their government as they defend themselves against these outrageous attacks. What we have done by becoming mired in Iraq, and by deciding to change the balance of power in that region, is enable Iran and Syria to be much more open in tormenting Israel, the United States, and our allies."

That is gibberish. The "defense" of Israel hardly requires the bombing of northern Lebanon, including the Christian areas and the civilianinfrastructure. The Israelis are even hitting the barracks of the Lebanese army – the very army the Israelis are demanding must police southern Lebanon and prevent Hezbollah attacks. Israel's goal has nothing to do with getting any soldiers back: it's all about the dissolution of a Parliament where Hezbollah's representatives sit, and the division of the country. Forget the "Cedar Revolution" – touted by Bush and the neocons as indisputable evidence of a "democratic wave" supposedly sweeping the region as the direct result of Iraq's "liberation." The Israelis have decided that the government brought to power in the "Beirut spring" must fall, and that is the end of that.

As for Syria, it has never been weaker, which is precisely why the Israelis are now engineering a provocation. It is also hard to believe the presence of 130,000 U.S. troops nearby emboldens either Syria or Iran to "torment" anybody, except, perhaps, their own people.

If anyone is being tormented, it is the Syrians, who have bent over backwards to cooperate with the Americans in the war on al-Qaeda and assiduously tried to avoid any conflict with Washington. To no avail: Israel's enemies are our enemies. President Assad was recently given a sign of things to come when Israeli jets buzzed his summer palace. The Iranians, too, have signaled their willingness to negotiate, yet the U.S. is openly embarking on a campaign to fund a Chalabi-like "democratic" opposition, consisting of monarchists, Communist cultists, and job-seekers.

Baghdad – Beirut – Damascus – Tehran: get on board the "regime change" train and fasten your seat belt. Because it doesn't matter how sick unto death the American public is of the neocons' wars. They will get one after the other anyway, in rapid succession. This is due to the unprecedented power of "the Lobby" – as Professor John J. Mearsheimer and Stephen Walt term it in their now-famous Harvard University study of Israel's fifth column in the U.S.

This is Israel's war, for the moment, but already the outline of a scheme to drag us in is taking shape, with calls for an "international force" to supplant the Israeli invaders, to be stationed in a buffer zone on the Lebanese-Israeli border. Not a UN force, however, but a "multinational" one, presumably made up mostly of Americans, Brits, and probably the French. It's possible they could recruit from among the motley crew of Sunni Arab autocrats who have turned on their Lebanese "brothers" and left them to twist slowly in the wind: the Saudis, the Egyptians, and the Jordanians, who have all joined Israel in assigning the blame for this war on Hezbollah.

This would gather all the elements of a broad anti-Shia alliance in one place, and lay the foundations for future action – in Syria, perhaps, where a confrontation is looming, and ultimately in Iran, the real target of the regime-changers.

The narrative of this war is being carefully articulated: it is, we are told, a "proxy war" being waged by Hezbollah, which the conspiracy theorists insist is merely an Iranian instrument. According to this view, Hassan Nasrallah is merely Mahmoud Ahmadinejad writ small.

To begin with, Hezbollah is a nationalist organization, with the requisite Islamist veneer. It was created not by Iran but by the Israelis themselves, in 1982, when they foolishly invaded the first time – and provoked a reaction that eventually drove the IDF out of southern Lebanon. This fantasy that Hezbollah consists of remote-controlled robots operated by the mullahs of Tehran is convenient for the purposes of war propaganda, but the reality is a bit more complex.

Yet even if we accept the simplistic Israeli-neocon view of Hezbollah as merely Iranian-run automatons, their proposed course of action still fails to make much sense. The logic of the neocon argument, applied to Iraq, would require us to turn our guns on the very government we are pledged to defend against the insurgency. The principal elements of Iraq's democratically elected Shi'ite coalition –including the Supreme Council for the Islamic Revolution in Iraq (SCIRI), the Badr Corps (SCIRI's militia), and the Da'wa party – were funded by Tehran and given sanctuary on Iranian soil during the years of Ba'athist rule. Are they, too, cat's-paws of Tehran?

Most Americans don't want U.S. troops to return to Lebanon – perhaps they remember what happened the last time. If the question is put as Israel versus Hezbollah, then, according to this CNN poll, 57 percent are more sympathetic to Israel, while 20 percent disdain taking sides and 4 percent are pro-Hezbollah. One suspects, however, if asked to choose between Israel and Lebanon, quite a different result would be forthcoming. In any event, 47 percent disapprove of the way President Bush is handling the crisis, with 43 percent approving – and 31 percent saying Israel's military response to the kidnapping of its soldiers went too far. As pictures of the devastation wrought by the Israeli military machine capture the brutal reality of Israel's exercise in "self-defense," this number is bound to go higher.

Yet the momentum of the burgeoning conflict may sideline public opinion and give impetus to the War Party's ambitious plans. As the rescue mission got belatedly underway, and American troops set foot on Lebanese soil for the first time since the ill-fated 1980s incursion, the chances of the U.S. getting roped into this snake-pit were quadrupled. Those Marines will be a magnet for every nutball "militia" and provocateur – a tripwire just waiting to be triggered.

Which leads us to wonder if this, perhaps, wasn't built into the calculations that went into the making of this war.

No one believes the official pretext for the invasion – the capture of two Israeli soldiers by Hezbollah – and it is well-known that plans for the operation were ready to be taken off the shelf well before the incident. On Meet the Press the other day, Tim Russert asked NBC's Martin Fletcher if the Israelis had been looking for an opportunity to attack Hezbollah and took the first one that came along. Fletcher's answer was illuminating:

"I think so very strongly. I mean, they've never – they'll never say that publicly, but don't forget that when Israel left – ended their occupation of south Lebanon in the year 2000, the deal was that the Lebanese army would go in and police the border. Well, they never did that. Instead, Hezbollah moved in with all those rockets, and ever since then, about – for that last five years, Israel's been planning what to do, how to fight Hezbollah, how to destroy them. So this is, this is not a quick reaction to a kidnapping, it's the implementation of a plan Israel's been working on for five years with very specific targets. They call it a work plan. They're going step by step."

Step 1 – Seize a pretext, any pretext, to goose-step into Lebanon.

Step 2 – Simultaneously denounce Syrian influence and a hidden "spy network" supposedly still remaining in Lebanon – this in spite of the recent bust-up of a Mossad cell by Lebanese intelligence, which had been responsible for several assassinations.

Step 3 – Restart the Lebanese civil war – and drag Syria into it.

Step 4 – Engage the enemy on two fronts:

A. Diplomatically, in the United Nations, by imposing sanctions on Iran and demanding inspections of its nuclear facilities. This long drawn-out ritual is meant largely for American and European consumption – to convince world opinion that every possible avenue for a peaceful settlement has been explored, before the second front is opened up.

B. Militarily, in Lebanon, and beyond. Bashar al-Assad is a pincer movement away from being deposed. A right hook from U.S.-occupied Iraq and a left from the Israelis would knock out the last remaining Ba'athists and open up a veritable Pandora's box of ethnic and religious conflicts long masked by the dictatorship of the Assads.

Step 5On to Tehran!

The hijacking of American foreign policy by a small but influential cadre of neoconservatives is no secret, nor is it a deep mystery that they have the president's ear. Whether the sound of their whispered advice will drown out the plaintive cries of ordinary Americans, who are hardly in the mood for yet another "cakewalk," is not yet known. In the case of George W. Bush, however, it is always best to count on him living up to one's worst expectations.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Rain, Rain, Go Away ( Olly olly oxen free !)

“I’m so sick of this neverending rain. I think I’m turning into a mushroom. Yuk!” Sir Gimp’s lament was not without reason. It had been setting records all over the Bay, raining for five straight weeks, setting records everywhere. The very hills had become soggy remains of their former selves. Arks were built in record numbers as a good Plan B. Just in case the big one hits. Well, maybe not really two of every kind but still enough to keep things moving.

Sir Gimp and the Lovely Donna Jean were attempting breakfast in the fogged in, endlessly dripping, precipitation capitol of the Universe. It was dark, and it was dank, and it was wet everywhere. This was supposed to be Spring, the time of renewal, the time of Resurrection, and the time to bite the ears off the chocolate bunny and not admit it. But instead of a glorious spring, it was beginning to look like a wake, a funeral for the Easter Bunny and all things good and hopeful.

“You haven’t posted a new blog entry for quite a while. What’s the matter? Writer’s block? This glorious Spring weather got you down?”

The Lovely One starts skipping in a circle around the breakfast table singing “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day.”

“Now stop that! You’re gonna make rain even more!”

She changes the song and skips faster singing:

It's raining, it's pouring;
The old man is snoring.
He went to bed and he
Bumped his head
And he couldn't get up in the morning.

At that very moment there was a flash of lightening and the deep roll of thunder.

“There, see what you’ve done! You’ve angered the rain gods. Now it’s raining even harder than ever.”

“Hey, I’ve got and idea. We can play hide and seek. And you’re it!”

She “tags” him on the back and “hides” under the table. Sir Gimp decides to play along and goes into a nearby closet, puts his hands over his eyes, turns his back to the room and sings:

Rain rain stay all day
Never let us out to play
Rain rain stay all night
Soaking wet we’re such a fright

Then he shouts “olly olly oxen free!”

Upon hearing the magic incantation, the Lovely One comes out from her hiding place under the table and Sir Gimp flings open the closet door. They gently collide as they race to the “alee alee in free” spot in the center of the room. But instead of colliding, they open their arms at the last moment and end up in a large, passionate hug, filled with laughter.

Riiing...riing...riing. The incessant ringing interrupted their frolicking laughter. The Lovely One makes it to the phone just in time. “Hello. OK. Just a minute. Here dear. It’s for you. It’s Serious B...and its serious.” She hands the phone to her husband.

“Hope it’s nothing serious,” he jokes.

“Serious! Of course it’s serious!,” she says. “Why else would I be calling you at 2:00 AM?”

“Oh, I can think of lots of reasons—maybe you’re lonely?” he asks?

“Oh, I’m lonely alright. That’s why I’m coming over.”

“Now?”

“Right now.”

“How long ‘till you get here?”

“About...ten seconds.”

“Ten seconds?”

“Yeah...OK. Three...two...open your door...now!”

Sir Gimp opens the door and beholds Serious B in all her resplendent glory, cell phone to her ear.

“Gotcha!” she says as leaps through the door way, capturing Sir Gimp in a bear hug.

“OK, OK. I surrender,” he says.

In a few minutes Serious B, the Lovely One and our esteemed propeller head are situated in the sitting room relaxing with a late night tea service of Darjeeling tea, cheese and crumpets.

“Whatever is so urgent that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” asks Sir Gimp.

“Do you know what today is?” queries the Serious One.

“Monday. Early Monday morning, to be exact,” he replies.

“Well...duh? Yeah, I know it’s Monday morning. But do you know the date?”

Our intrepid nerd removes his glasses, holds his watch up to his face, presses a button on the side of the watch, lets his arm fall back to his side, puts his glasses back on and says, “June 12. So?”

“It’s been exactly three months since your last posting. Three months. Everyone is worried about you. I’m getting email from all over the world. Your fans are sick with worry. And I can’t hold them off any longer. They want to know, and I want to know...what’s up? Why the long song silence? I’ve heard of writer’s block, but this is ridiculous.

We’ve all been patient up to know, with your pneumonia, grimacing, shaking, edema, diabetic neuropathy, marinated brain cells, high blood pressure, etc., etc., etc. But the time has come. I’ve been able to keep them at bay with the occasional press release about the progress you’ve been making on your Rainbow Warrior novel, but the dam is about to burst. They need something, and they need it now!”

“Well, it may relieve your worried little mind to know that I may have many things, but I don’t have writer’s block.”

“Well, what is it then? Why have you been silent for so long. Is it the novel? The price of gasoline? What is it? Just tell us...please.”

“It’s a lot simpler...I don’t have any thing to say.”

Serious B and the Lovely One exchange glances. “Don’t have anything to say? How is that possible?” they ask in unison.

“It’s all been said. All been done before. And now with the Zombie Sleeping Sickness spreading like fire around the country, it wouldn’t matter even if I did.”

“Oh, c’mon now. Your whole life has been dedicated to the idea that things matter. What’s the matter with you?” said the Serious One.

“Nothing’s the matter with me! It’s the people in this country. Their freedom’s have been snatched from right under their noses and what to they do? Go shopping,” replied Sir Gimp in disgust.

“It just doesn't matter any more. The Zombie Sleeping Sickness reigns supreme.”

“How so?” queries the Serious One.

“For example,” says the Gimpish one. “I could tell you that Zarqawi wasn’t killed in the recent attack. How could a man survive two 500 hundred pound bombs on a simple Iraqi home. All the other inhabitants of the house were blown to smithereens. Oh, but not our boy Zarqawi. But since they only showed his head, who knows? Most likely he was captured, killed, drugged or whatever, weeks or months before, ‘put on ice’ so to speak, for just the right moment. Which happened to somehow, mysteriously, coincide with the announcement of the completion of the Iraqi cabinet, which somehow mysteriously coincided with Herr Bush’s ‘sudden’ surprise trip to Fortress America inside the Green Zone (which by the way, is anything but green).

And what if I told you that all this talk about Iraq being a “sovereign state” is just so much hogwash? The fact that Herr Bush could show up inside the bowels of Baghdad without the Prime Minister even knowing about until a minute or two before, shows what kind of sovereignty there is in Iraq. Zero. Zilch. A country that has no control over its own airspace can hardly be considered to be a sovereign nation. Truth is, the security situation is so bad that Uncle Sam is mighty a-feared to supply the Iraqi army with any planes with which it could defend itself or (maybe, just maybe) fly one of those bombers over the Green Zone and ‘accidentally’ let loose a few of those 500 pound babies.

And what if I told you that the Yanks have no plans to leave Babylon any time soon...that they were building an embassy bigger than the Vatican, (the Vatican for Christ’s sake), costing half a billion dollars? Sound like a country that plans to stand down? Plus four other "permanent" bases for which the U.S. has gained ‘special rights’ to the land these basis are built on, insuring that they're subject to US, not Iraqi law. A little bit of U. S. sovereignty inside the cradle of civilization, eh?

I could go on, and on, and on...but what’s the use? It just doesn’t matter. In much the same way that it didn’t matter to the German populace that the government was systematically busy enacting the ‘final solution’ on millions of potential trouble makers who posed a threat to their National Security. Didn’t matter to them then, and it doesn’t matter to us now. So just between you and me, I’ve had it. Finis. Kaput.”

“So, does this mean the end of your blog? Your literary career?" asked Serious B.

"Could be," said our dear propeller head. "Could be."

The End?

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Guantanamo Joe from Kokomo


Sir Gimp and the Lovely One were ensconced in their Library, early one dark and gloomy evening.

“He Invited you back?” she asked. “Why, that’s...simply...outrageous!”

At the cry of ‘outrageous’, they broke into hysterical laughter that lasted a good eight minutes or so.

(Editor’s Note: If you haven’t read the previous post, Where’s the Outrage?, then you probably have no idea why these two folks are laughing. If you want to play catchup, click here to read Where’s the Outrage?)

“Yeah, not only did he invite me back, but he said our show was one of the highest viewed of all his shows,” Sir Gimp explained.

“Don’t you find it a bit odd that one of the most watched news show is a comedy? A comedy?” she asked.

“I don’t find it odd one itsy bitsy teensy weensy little bit. Y’know why? Because that’s where the truth is. It’s is in that psychedelic nanosecond where you drop your ego and experience for a itsy bitsy teensy weensy instant, the great cosmic truth of life--that life is a big joke and that the joke’s on you.

The joker is wild, y’know. Really wild. For a brief instant, we see the connectiveness and the love that binds this universe. We step back and see that all the world’s a stage, and that we are merely players. And then we go deeper and realize that its not about getting the most toys and winning, it’s about playing the game.

When you see that you’re not really the doer, then it hits you—that blinding instant of deepest metaphysical zen awakening, when the yang and the yin of your consciousness is so perfectly balanced that you can’t contain the full impact of its contradiction—and so your body and mind go into that spasm we humorously call ‘laughter.’ That’s why I think that comedy is the best vehicle for a news show. Laughter is the abode of truth.”

“Wow! And they really want you back for another show? Sri Gimp and his Laughing Monks! Why, its a guaranteed laugh riot!”

Once again the Lovely Duo broke into a fit of outrageous laughter. Eventually they calmed down and began to address the more practical concerns facing them.

“Well,” said the Lovely One, “we better get packed. Oh, and don't forget to call Comedy Central and confirm our travel arrangements.

“Good idea. Now just where did I put the phone....?

* * * * * * * * * *

Two days later in the New York studio of Comedy Central’s, The Daily Show featuring Jon Stewart.

Jon and Sir Gimp are huddled in his pre-show office.

Jon seemed a bit upset as he queried Sir Gimp. “Now you’re telling me you’ve brought a guest--with no advance notice? I mean I like you and all Sir Gimp, but this is taking a few liberties, you know?”

“I know Jon, but honestly, it couldn’t be helped. I didn’t know until the last minute. It was touch and go right down to the wire. This guy could get killed if we didn’t do things by the book. His lawyers were afraid for his safety.”

Jon seemed even for him, a bit astounded. “Afraid for his safety? What? Is he some kind of criminal or something?”

Sir Gimp paused thoughtfully for a moment and then said, “No, not a criminal exactly, more like...a...terrorist.”

“A terrorist? Don’t tell me you’ve got Osama for a guest on my show! That’s just too much.”

“Hey, don’t have a cow, man! It’s not Osama. It’s Guantanamo Joe from Kokomo.”

“Who?” asked Jon incredulously.

Sir Gimp replied with exaggerated slowness, “Guan-tan-amo Joe from Ko-ko-mo.”

“Sir Gimp, I don’t want to offend anyone here, but if you don’t mind my asking, what kind of name is that?”

“Canadian, Jon.

“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t sound Canadian to me.”

“You’re too smart for me, Jon. It’s not really a Canadian name per se. It’s the code name that the Royal Canadian Mounted Police gave him. He’s in their protection program.

“Oh, now I get it. You’ve brought me an international terrorist, wanted by the Mounties who just stopped by to have a little chat with us this evening. Not bad, Mr. Gimp, not bad. But I do need to tell you I think you’ve got the wrong show. This isn’t Extreme Makeover for International Terrorists. This is Comedy Central. The Daily Show. My show. And it’s a comedy.”

Jon stares at Sir Gimp. Sir Gimp stares at Jon.

Finally Jon starts to crack a smile. “You had me fooled for a minute there. What you really mean to say is that this Kokomo Joe guy is from Monty Python’s Extreme Makeover comedy hour?”

“Not exactly. Here’s the story. I got a call in the middle of the night asking me if I wanted to strike a blow for freedom. Naturally, I said ‘yes, who wouldn’t?’ Once I assured them of my patriotism, they asked me if I could take a very special guest with me onto your show tomorrow night. I figured you wouldn’t mind. But due to the nature of the guest, I couldn’t ask you ahead of time, for security reasons. Now, its perfectly OK with me if you don’t want him to appear. I can tell him “no go”, and just read another poem from my best selling book, What the Hell Do I Know and When Did I Know It?

“Well what does Guantanamo Joe want to talk about?”

“He wants to talk about his time at Gitmo. Are you up for that? After all, this is a comedy show, right?”

“Right. Comedy Show. OK. Let’s bring him on.”

“Great, I’ll let the Mounties know.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Jon introduces Sir Gimp and they talk about his book and how sales increased since his last appearance on the show when he read his poem Where’s the Outrage?. And then Guantanamo Joe was introduced.

Jon: Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special guest tonight. Let’s give a warm American welcome for Guantanamo Joe, from somewhere in Canada. And let’s also give a warm round of applause for his Mountie handlers whose motto is “Don’t leave home without us.”

Jon: Welcome.

Guantanamo Joe: Hey, Mr. Jon. Is that right, I say ‘hey!’ Is that proper greeting? And then you say ‘hey!’ back?

Jon: Yeah. That’s right. Then I say ‘hey!’ back to you.

GJ: Well, then, go ahead and say it.

Jon: Say what?

GJ: Hey! Say hey back!

Jon: Oh, say hey back to you! Now I get it! Hey!

GJ: Hey! (They give each other a ‘high five.’)

Jon: Well now that we’ve got that taken care of. How do I say this?...What was it like?

GJ: What like?

Jon: You know...being there. In Gitmo?

GJ: I got where I could dig it, y’know?

Jon: Dig it? Where’d you learn to talk like that?

GJ: From the guards, Mr. Jon. From the guards. They teach us American.

Jon: The guards taught you English? When did they have time to do that?

GJ: Well, y’know Mr. Jon. Well, I guess you don’t know. But it’s a pretty boring place.

Jon: Boring. You found Gitmo boring?

GJ: How you say it ? Right now, bro?

Jon: Oh, you mean ‘right on, bro?’

GJ: Yeah. Right on! Very boring place. I don’t recommend it.

Jon: I don’t guess you would. What made it so boring?

GJ: Nothing to do. It’s not even Cuba, for Christ’s sake. It’s a teeny weeny nowhere’s ville island. No chicks, no movies, no nothin’.

Jon: How did you spend your time?

GJ: Being bored out my skull, man. I told you, it’s very, very, boring. Except for the interrogations, and they even got boring after a few years. You can only take the electric shocks so long, Jon. Day after day, Mr. Jon. And the beatings. And no sleep for weeks. And those horrible ‘heavy metal’ howlings that they try call music. What an affront to the senses. And then Mr. Jon, you know what happens?

Jon: No. I don’t. What happens.

GJ: It’s a miracle. A miracle happens.

Jon: What, Joe? What kind of miracle?

GJ: One day, about halfway into my third year, I was set free.

Jon: How were you set free?

GJ: I didn’t care any more. I just didn’t care. And then I was free. Even when they’d hook me up to the wires, I just didn’t care. I became really, really, mellow. And then I grew to like the place. The best thing about Gitmo is how safe I felt.

Jon: What do you mean, how safe you felt?

GJ: I knew that I didn’t have to worry about terrorism any more.

Jon: How can that be? You’re surrounded by terrorists there? Why you’re even a terrorist.

GJ: Ah, but that’s precisely where you’re wrong, Jon. There’s no terrorists at Gitmo.

Jon: No terrorists at Gitmo? Don’t play the fool with me. If there’s no terrorists there, where are they?

Sir Gimp: Let me jump in here Jon, if I may. No one knows where the terrorists are. Well, almost no one. It’s classified, Jon. We’ve been told that the ‘worst of the worst’ are at Gitmo. But it’s not true. The detainees call Gitmo ‘Fantasy Island’ because it’s all just full of mistakes. The real terrorists suspects are sent to those special ‘black cell’ rendition sites that Seymour Hersh wrote about in the New Yorker. We’ll never hear about who’s there or what’s happened to them.

Folks like Joe were just the mistakes. You know, unlucky ones who got sold into a kind of limbo slavery. Only five percent of Gitmo detainees were captured by U.S. soldiers. The rest were turned in by informants who were paid a ransom of five to ten thousand dollars for each body they turned in. Like the old bounty hunters in the wild west.

Only ten of these detainees were ever charged with anything. The rest just sit there and rot because the military is too damn proud to admit that they screwed up big time. That’s why after three, four years no charges have been brought and they’ve not been allowed to see a lawyer. Cause they’re innocent and the government well knows it. If they let them go they’ll be hit with so many lawsuits that it would be the biggest scandal the military’s ever known.

Excuse me Jon, but the Mounties are telling me that it’s time for Joe to be moving on. He can’t stay too long in one place.

Jon: Thanks Sir Gimp. And Guantanamo Joe from Kokomo, I pray that you continue to live in interesting times. Goodnight, everyone.

The End

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Where’s the Outrage?

Welcome to Comedy Central’s, The Daily Show. I’m Jon Stewart. Let’s give a big round of applause for our guest tonight, Sir Gimp, renowned author and disabled veteran of the metaphysical wars. Tonight he will read a poem from his new book of poetry, What the hell do I know and I when did I know it? Sir Gimp, your book is selling quite well. Especially for poetry, which has not been very popular in recent years.

“Yes Jon, I’ve been fortunate. But it’s more than luck, Jon, despite what Woody says in his new film Matchpoint. You see, poetry has to speak to the real stuff of people’s lives. It’s been locked in the ivy tower much too long. Dylan broke the mold, but he didn’t take it far enough; he had to hide what he said in song lyrics. That’s why he went electric. He didn’t give a shit--oh sorry Jon. Can we say that on the air?”

“Not to worry, Sir Gimp. We’re on cable.”

“Great! Now what was I saying? Oh yeah. Dylan didn’t give a shit about folk rock, or wanting to be Elvis or any of that BS. He just wanted to camouflage his lyrics with sound and an acoustic guitar and harmonica just didn’t cut it. You could hear his lyrics too clearly. Notice that his popularity took off when he went electric and nobody had any idea what he was saying. But that’s a topic for another show, Jon.”

“OK. Let’s get down to the business at hand.”

“You see, Jon. That’s where I’m different from Bobby. I don’t try to hide my poetry behind an onslaught of sound. My poetry is bare naked, right on the page with no fig leaves, nothing to hide. That’s why people like it.”

“What are you going to read tonight?”

“I’m going to read a poem called Where’s the Outrage?

“OK. Go for it.”

Sir Gimp begins to read:

Outraged?

Of course I’m outraged!

Why? Because there’s no bloody outrage, that’s why.

I’m fuming mad. Perhaps even howling mad.

I’ve seen the best minds of my generation sucked into a propaganda machine that seemingly knows no values or limits. And when the machine spits them out on the other side, wasted, used, and exhausted; they are like the walking dead--soulless, drifting in a barren wasteland with no hope for the future.

Truth has become a commodity now, sold to the highest bidder.

There is no more journalism, only promotion.

On an endless series of “talk shows” people shamelessly promote their books, movies, toilet bowl cleaner, sugar loaded breakfast cereals, and other endlessly fascinating items bearing true witness to the end of civilization as we once knew it.

And yet there’s no outrage.

We just seem to go on, and on, and on, as if everything is just hunky dory.

Executed the third death row inmate this week? Oh that’s so cool.

Just discovered that corruption in Washingto DC is much more widespread than previously imagined. Didja hear that dude, worse than imagined? Wow, gotta love it!

Twenty five percent of all soldiers who return from Iraq have severe mental problems. Severe mental problems? Wowza. And thery’re letting ‘em walk around in broad daylight? Get outta here!

And then there’s torture.

Gotta love it.

Geneva Conventions? Is that a chocolate bar from the Swiss Alps?

Quick Quiz.

Question: When is torture not torture?

Answer: When we’re doing it to them.

Then it’s legal. Then it’s moral. Then it’s OK by the Geneva Conventions.

Question: When is torture really torture.

Answer: When they’re doing it to “our boys.”

Then it’s illegal. Then it’s immoral. Then it’s prohibited by the Geneva Conventions. Then it’s not a chocolate bar.

Then and only then is there outrage.

Then and only then.

Bush sells nukes to India and pours blood on Gandhi’s grave.

Where’s the outrage?

Patriot act delayed then approved. Liberty sacrificed on the Altar of False Security, the Golden Calf of our time.

The Lame Duck Democrats just nod their heads and quack “aye”, and the die is cast.

Poor “give me liberty or give me death” Patrick Henry. He wouldn’t have signed the Patriot Act.

And he would have shot dead any of the traitors that did.

Bush says spying on Americans is good for America and what’s good for America is good for Halliburton. And so it is written.

Law, what law? “I don’t need any stinkin’ law. I’m the Emperor, God’s chosen one and I will do what I goddamn please until our victory is accomplished.

I have a dream. I will lead the people to the promised land and we will win the war on terror.”

War on terror? What war on terror? There can be no war on terror. Terrorism is a tactic, not a country. Not an army. It is everywhere and nowhere. How can you beat an “enemy” that is nowhere? You can’t.

He's a real nowhere Man,
Sitting in his Nowhere Land,
Making all his nowhere plans
for nobody.

But we can have have perpetual war for perpetual peace.

Be afraid.

Be VERY afraid.

Where’s the outrage?

Video tape emerges showing that the drowning of New Orleans was predicted ahead of time. Poor old “Brownie”, crying in the wilderness like John the Baptist and crucified like the carpenter from Nazereth.

Just as Nero fiddled while Rome went up in flames, the Boy Wonder played guitar while New Orleans sank.

Where’s the outrage?

Would you buy a used drug program from this man?

“And do I have a deal for you. With my plan, I can change the price or the drugs at anytime, or remove them if I choose.

And if your drugs become too expensive or not available, tough titties. And we will not negotiate prices. The drug companies must set the price to ensure that obscene prophets continue.

Drugs aren’t good for you anyway. They will lead to the harder stuff and destroy the moral fabric of this country. And this, my friend, absolutely must not, cannot, and will not be tolerated. It would be an outrage.”

Sir Gimp sank back into his chair, exhausted.

The audience was silent, stunned. No clapping, no booing, no nothing.

Sir Gimp took a gulp from his trusty water bottle, looked straight into the eye of the camera and quietly asked, “Where’s the outrage?”


The End