Let Slip the Running Dogs of Metaphor

I like my mixed metaphors shaken, not stirred. So as I swim the Yangtze River of my thoughts until that mighty torrent meets the Mississippi of...of...reality? No, reality is really the Gulf Stream -- a warm current surrounded by an ocean of cold water. The cold water could easily short circuit that warm current, causing sparks to fly. That is the way of reality. For it is the Gulf Stream.

But enough about reality which is the Gulf Stream. The Mississippi River is actually my...my dream! Wait. Let's see. No, my dream: she is the fertile and curvaceous and mighty and fecund Amazon! Of course the Amazon is not really a "she" but more of an androgynous-ly, hermaphroditic-ly, not so easy to tell-ly exactly what-ly -- mm. Ah.

It comes to me. The dreamy, north flowing Nile meets my rising, east flowing Yangtze (with its source in the Himalayas). Strong and yet gentle my Yangtze is! The Amazon, she is obsession; she is not dream. I should never have brought h-er-im up. This has nothing to do with nearly naked Amazonian wild, ah, things -- no way, no shape, no form, no whips, no leather, wait! OK, depending on the shape and the form and the type of leather bikini there might be a whip -- no! No whips! That's an entirely different metaphor and not a good one. Uh. Mm. It's off topic, too.

Where was I before my thoughts got Shanghaied? Right. I was in China, a complex accumulation of metaphors for -- I forget. But I actually wasn't there. I was at the

Belmont Club » Thinking about China

Mark Helprin at the Claremont Institute points out two obvious things. The first is the rise of China, not only as an economic power but also as a technological and industrial power. The second is the apparent lack of any US strategy to come to terms with that fact. The combination of the two can lead to disastrous effects.

Good thing I've learned to stop worrying and love the Obama. I'm already busy planning my next vacation from history. I think I’ll watch “Seven Years in Tibet” seven times, with US being the Tibetans.

The future is as real to me as any movie. The entire Chinese army is on the march and the Democrats in Congress respond by all going “AUMMMM” at the same time, doing their best Buddhist Monk. They smile to say "ah," they pucker their lips for an open mouth "oo," and then they swallow the mmm! It's the new politics and it sure sounds different from the old.

You see, we have traded our big honkin' Hummers for the much smaller "Aumm-ers." We were told this would be good for the planet, though which planet was not specified. And the Aummer is a better vehicle for family oriented vacations from history. It is hands (and arms) down the best for a short ride on a smooth, straight road.

The Aummer don't have a huge, jack booted footprint like the Hummer. It don't go around kicking down doors. It issues polite invitations to teas with replies requested but not really expected (unless, of course, it is a subpoena to a Capitalist Running Dog Republican). In point of fact, the Aummer don't got no foot print at all: it got a "tiny little ballet slipper worn by an out of shape marine" print. And he's standing on his tip-toes in the mud, so call it a three toed slipper print -- that soon becomes the "neck deep in a quagmire that we should have avoided in the first place" print. Did I say it was a print? The tutus will arrive in the next budget cycle and are labeled "body amour." It is believed no one will shoot a Marine in a tutu. There is little evidence that it has ever happened and that is considered much evidence that it won't.

At first the sight of marines wearing slippers and walking around on their tip-toes while neck deep in a quagmire was a pleasing one. It was thought this would keep them out of trouble.

Until our new "Aummer National Subcompact," which by this time had completely replaced the Hummer, hit a really rough patch of road. In fact, it turned into no road at all: a wilderness where not even the GPS worked. It was major war -- sans metaphor, sans simile, sans reason! Sans iambic pentameter! Curiously, it did have rhyme. But you had to cheat, as in Britney Spears singing "the ho's a hoe." Which is a metaphor but it wasn't planned.

By going "Aummm" all together our Aummer Congress tries to create a Harmonic Convergence to keep away all the Harms (and Hellfires) that War brings. But being politicians instead of Monks, they are all Aumm-ing in different keys, while assuming they're in the same.

Some screech so loud and hit notes so high it is an "antiwar dog whistle" -- which will call all the dogs of war to the homeland. You see, they had heard in one of their speeches that the Republicans had let these dogs slip, and they think maybe the dogs hurt themselves when they slipped. "How callous," they told the Republicans, "You let slip the dogs of war and don't even know what they slipped on! Was it the icy White House steps?" So they want the dogs of war to visit our Vets. They think our Vets can take care of them, and it will give the vets, like, meaning. Of course every dog will have his day in court (and a tort lawyer).

'Cept the dogs of war don't want to visit our vets and won't get in the travel cages, the ones the lawyers warned them about (and the BBC, too). Instead, we all have to join them on the mid-winter wilderness trails where they will howl beyond the flicker of the campfire. We've all returned to a state of nature, which is good. Or is it? What if we cannot make it back to the climate controlled wilderness lodge? Or maybe it's been hit by hellfires (not the metaphor, the missile).

But I got ahead of myself. At the start of this "National Lampoon's Vacation from History," Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi (now called The Hope and Unity Choir Director) does look lovely and ageless in her saffron robes. An artist and cyber Billionaire from her home district commissions a sculpture of her on the capital steps. It is known as "The Reclining Speaker who Hath already Spoke-eth." The marble woman is at peace with the world though the world wars with her. The work is inspired by the laid-back lady's direction of the Aumming Congress during the looming crisis. In that sculpture you can almost see her peaceful dream and the dream is the Blue Nile -- so deep in blue it is indigo. View this Sculpture from certain angles and the lady looks like she has just been run over by a tour bus.

So as Asia teeters and the Congress titters and we gets the jitters, we will find the answer to that ageless question: “What if they throw a war and only one side shows up?” True, we could ask the Tibetans, but who will believe that bunch of losers?

I'm using "Tibetans" here as a metaphor, of course. And that vacation from history? It ends at the apocalypse, the ultimate thrill ride.

Oh. And the Mississippi River? She is the imagination. I think. Wait...

Choose one from each group

Reagan, for better or worse — I’d say for worse, but that’s another discussion — brought a lot of change. He ran as an unabashed conservative, with a clear ideological agenda.

Thus writes Paul Krugman of the New York Times, as he wondered if Barack Obama is a Ronald Reagan. Now at what point in the campaign did we know Reagan was Reagan and what being Reagan meant? And here Sen. Obama has the nomination in hand and we don't even know if Obama is Obama. And we sure don't know what it means to be an Obama.

Mr. Krugman continues his clue search as he expands the comparison to Bill Clinton:

So whom does Mr. Obama resemble more? At this point, he’s definitely looking Clintonesque...Like Mr. Clinton, Mr. Obama portrays himself as transcending traditional divides. Near the end of last week’s “unity” event with Hillary Clinton, he declared that “the choice in this election is not between left or right, it’s not between liberal or conservative, it’s between the past and the future.” Oh-kay.

Decades ago I lived in North Beach in San Fransisco where a lot Italian restaurants ran lunch specials. For $2.50 you could choose what you liked from a group of appetizers; choose one from a group of main courses; choose from a group of side dishes and deserts and beverages. And actually put together quite an inexpensive feast.

What we have here is the "choose one from each group" candidate. For each issue he takes three positions. The position that most excites you is the one he holds. The other two are necessary political panders he has to make to get elected. He does this -- sacrifices his integrity -- so he can put your solutions into practice. Some might call him a politician. He will endure this for you. And he will work hard (never worked harder!) to do right by you. Wait. In fact, wait some more.

So he is neither Clinton nor is he Reagan. He is the man who, once elected, will have a mandate to do whatever he wants. Because the Media will tell us so. After all, the left has already made its choice. If their every choice is not yours, you did not choose wisely.

The Noble Much Obliged

This was a comment I left at the The Belmont Club.

In a feudal system, the military leaders that conquer a region become the new aristocracy. In Western Europe's recent wars, the conquering Military was not aristocratic or European. Nor was it interested in holding the reins of power, but did protect those who would pick the reins up. This has allowed a new aristocratic system to evolve.

Because after the last century's wars, it was the clerks of Europe (sometimes confused with intellectuals) who emerged triumphant. Their means of control are not martial but material in nature (basically, the disposition of taxes in a system of political "group" patronage). This allows women to acquire positions of great power without having to work through the male family line. In this system, power grows from an inked rubber stamp, flowery prose, poisoned logic, and a purple ribbon. In this (is it proper to say?) women are the equal of men.

Europe now develops into a "Clerical aristocracy" with de facto primogeniture at its center. In an emerging static system of hierarchy (National and European), the most prepared child of either sex will inherit a position of similar prestige to that of the parents. The guaranteed inheritance is not (yet) total and not (yet) explicit.

In a martial aristocracy the "militarists" control, with some difficulty, the clerks. It is more essential that the clerical aristocrats control the military. In both systems, the Aristocracy wants to control the "guns" and keep them out of the hands of the commoners (unless especially trusted and favored). But not so much out of the hands of the "healthy" criminal class (those uninterested in attacking the aristocracy). Aristocrats look at healthy criminals as competitors and, at times, allies in the exploitation of commoners.

The Noble clerks perpetuate their ruling class by properly designing the education and testing system so that the "class favorites" are from the favored class. Selection from this "merit pool" would be influenced by family connections -- with the candidates culled as they are promoted up the ranks.

In such an emergent system having more than two children would be considered suspect. You could argue the third was an accident. But the fourth would constitute a kind of rebellion, since the promotion of your brood will leave fewer choice positions for the "child" of others. This "gang of siblings" could become bandits grabbing control of bureaucratic turf. As a matter of "noble" self-defense, they would be held back.

A clerical aristocracy would not be wealth creators but wealth administrators. The multiplication of social programs would be accompanied by a multiplication of noble positions (with squires and yeoman attached) and a cohort of dependent clients. The nobles would be highly suspicious of freewheeling capitalism since it provides an independent route to status and prestige. Besides, who knows where those free wheels are going to go a-wheeling? The Noble clerks sell free lunches, and their little hot dog stand might get knocked over. The free lunch is a con, of course, but it is also a living for the proprietor and his Noble patron.

The (ideally unarmed) commoners would be dependent on this system even as they became cynical about it. They see that children, as a class, are an excuse for the multiplication of Noble positions -- and an excuse for higher taxes. This turns their own immediate descendants into a class enemy. Also, in a static society, it makes sense to concentrate your limited influence on preparing and marketing one child to achieve one low-level clerical position -- a position from which the child can climb the greased pole and establish a clerical line.

But the "Nobles" need a population that the domesticated commoners are not producing. One solution is to import them -- but in a manner where they will provide additional Noble positions (meaning additional expenditures to the "department" and, ideally, tax revenues to the government) while not competing for those positions. The Nobility does not need a second generation of honor students from their immigrant class -- quite the opposite. Keeping them separate from the native commoners and engendering mutual hostility between them is "Maintaining an Aristocracy 101." They put that "Marxist dialectic" they all studied to work -- in reverse.

What is the way forward?

1. Make the new Aristocracy explicit, along with a new Chivalric Code. Only one, or at most two, noble children continue the clerical line. Lesser children enter a class of lower clerical gentry. Or they can be married into the class of (properly regulated, constrained, and most of all administered) business people. This will strengthen a system of family alliances and make all dependent on the "new chivalry."

2. Recognize that the system is exploitive of future generations and cut the commoner parents into the deal. This can be done by selling new infants a reverse "savings bond" where the parents keep the money. Right now only the Nobles profit from the immediate entry of a new baby into "the system." With this bond, commoners will get a monthly stipend for each child they have. The children will begin paying the bond back when they reach 22. This will be a clear profit for the first generation of commoner parents. The second generation would have to perpetuate the system to get their money back. If they don't have children they will live in poverty even worse than what they are already experiencing (we are not designing a system that allows people to thrive -- only one that pretends to).

Perhaps the Swedes can lead the way here. US to follow.

CERN: Crush Earth Right Now

Gaea has her high priests (and priestesses) at work building a mighty temple to her wondrous nature at a secret location somewhere in Europe! And there they will work their dark arts. And I mean really dark arts. Like in "no light or life escapes" dark arts.

You see, man has so poisoned and polluted the planet that Gaea has decided to send earth to the crusher and She is having here holy men (and women) build her temple at the power point of her creation, the place all call CERN. Here's some reassuring words from Astrophysicist Neil DeGrasse Tyson:

There’s this worry that at CERN, they’re going to turn on the accelerator and create states of matter as never before – which is true – at higher energies than ever before – which is true – and possibly produce micro black holes. What happens if one does not evaporate, but just sort of hangs around? Whatever it touches, it eats, then it gets more massive. The more massive it gets, the less likely it will be to evaporate, because they evaporate quickly only when they’re small. This worry that it will create a runaway black hole that will eat the Earth is what some people have been concerned about.

Silly some people. What are the chances of the Earth gettin' ate, burp.

You see, CERN actually stands for Crush the Earth into a Round bit o' Nothing. The end state has all of the planet's heaviness and all of its gravity rolled into a single point. But there is no matter so the point is kind of pointless -- you know, the way life can sometimes seem when you don't get that fellowship. This point is so small it would fit in the vest pocket of an hydrogen atom -- and eat the hydrogen atom.

Now, are we going to let a bunch of self-loathing European intellectuals make this call? For them, Earth has gone from Planet Hollywood to Planet Ennui. Talk about "Earth in the balance." On one side total planetary annihilation weighed against 2,000 tenured positions and a chance at a dozen Noble prizes -- the things that make life worth the bullshit. I'm telling you, folks, the "little blue marble" is just going to have to take it chances with the rest of us.

Plus, the Eurosmart set look at man as a total pest. And woman ain't much better. Remember, we are about to escape the gravity well of earth. So if something ain't done fast, the human rash will spread across the Universe. A rapid transubstantiation of the planet into a single pointless point may be the answer they are looking for. This will take care of the chimp problem, too. Let's face it, they ain't any better than humans and are, all and all, a disappointment.

It's interesting how uncontroversial this all is. Somewhere in the universe a planet is destroyed every day. But an oil well off the coast? That might dirty a duck and affect property values. But what about total annihilation? Do you think you will own a little bit of the singularity?

Where are all the people who want to save the Pandas? OK, maybe you don't care about China getting devoured by a black hole. But what about the Pandas? And when the oceans are sucked in, what about the whales? How are you going to Free Willie from a black hole?

And it doesn't have to be this way. We can build this thing in outer space. It will weigh five pounds and collide sun beams with moonbeams -- but in proper proportion. It can be done.

We sure need to do something. Start a movement. I'm willing to sell the T-shirts and bumper stickers if you are willing to buy them. This is an Orca. This is an Orca being devoured by a black hole. Here is a puppy. Here is a puppy being devoured by a black hole. Rid the Grid of CERN!

Ask not for whom dat Canary croaks, it croaks for you!

I just glanced at the headlines on my BBC Live Bookmark. The Top three are: 1) Iran says attack by Israel "impossible" 2) Mugabe condemns opposition "lies" 3) Nigerian oil pipeline "attacked."

This got me thinking: what I would like to see are impossible lies attacked. Excuse me: "impossible" "lies" "attacked."

Meanwhile, I'm wondering if The Onion has taken over The Asia Times Online. I can handle their over-the-top anti-Americanism (it does take practice) but lately some of their stuff is just wacky. John Feffer writes:

The global economy is reeling from the triple whammy of soaring energy and food prices and extreme weather stress, and as long as policymakers don't address all three of these trends as one major crisis, it could get a whole lot worse. Just ask North Korea, which in the 1990s was the world's canary. The famine there that killed as much as 10% of the population was a harbinger of the crisis that now grips the globe - though few saw it that way at the time.

Few? I say, "Name one."

That would be The Democratic People's Republic of Korea (affectionately known as the "Norks") acting as the "World Canary" in the "One World Coal Mine." I thought we had gotten rid of them coal mining canaries but I forgot about Socialism.

So. Let's see. How would this work? The North Korean canary flies deep into the One World Coal Mine and thence into a cage. Once Upon its perch, it closes and locks the gate. Later, the mine collapses on account of the commissar cat, fat in his plush office, deciding to save money and exceed the quota by not shoring up the roof.

The Canary cage gets smashed in the collapse and the gate springs open. The canary flies out of the cage and through the coal catacombs to the outside air. It lays on a sunny hillside puking black slime out of its little lungs. Then the commissar cat sees it. The canary drags its little darling self towards another mine entrance. At the last moment -- just before it becomes "famine fried chicken" in the commissar kitchen -- it flaps its little wings and flies into the mine just ahead of the power puss! Other canaries watch, and figure coal mines are the place to be if you want to get away from official cats.

They find coal mines of their own and fly in -- but it is all the same coal mine because it is the One World Coal Mine with diverse entrances. And inside the mine, they find cages with gates to lock behind them that will keep away stray cats. So years on, the "World Coal Mine" will be filled with "World Canaries" locked in their little "One World Cages" lit by dim and distant fluorescent. They count the minutes and breath recycled air while dreaming that the roof will cave in.

Actually, it is starting to make sense. Mr. Feffer, you are a genius.

He saw it on the Internet and sawed it off.

The Belmont Club: Disinformation

Dear Mr. Ram,

I heard at work the other day that Barack Obama is a Muslim. Is Sen. Obama really a Muslim? I ask you because I know you will give it to me straight.

I heard it at an OPEC meeting where "Mo'hammer" Quadhafi was MC. He kept going on and on about how Obama's a Muslim and will not get a square deal in the election. And to get elected he'll be a bigger Zionist than Ben-Gurion and act more white than a albino Laplander. I also heard his mentor is one crazy communist, which sounded good. I asked what a "mentor" is and was told a mentor is a person's grandmother who is at the same time his mother's mother, which I didn't even think was possible! Could it be some sort of, I don't know, sign? Could it be a virgin birth type thing, because I do not think that communists make babies. Or is that just in Russia?

Also, Mo said when Sen. Obama is President the USA will take over the oily oil companies and then dominate OPEC because the Democrats keep more crude off the market than any old dictator. Mr. Ram, they are taunting us! Saying we owe them big. That we'd be nothing without them! We'd get hardly no money for our honey if America drilled. Drill in Alaska, Mr. Ram, and you drill us.

Also, if the USA joins OPEC, does that mean we will have to open our meetings to those liars at the New York Times? And rely on LGF to protect our honor? Geez, this is crazier than Russia joining NATO.

So Mr. Ram, please to inform!

1) Is Barack a Muslim?

2) Is his crazy mentor-mother a commie?

3) Will he bring the USA into OPEC and make the rest of us Tyrants look like egg sucking Munchkins by comparison?

Yours sincerely,
Confused in Caracas

Dear confused,

You are an idiot! Your friend "Mo'hammer MC" is an idiot! However, I do support you in your quest to rid us of the Sulfurous smelling swine in the White House. He is, as I am sure you are aware, an idiot! But he don't even believe Barack Obama is a Muslim! Idiot!

Yours,
Ken "The Doll" Ram

In the Movies it starts with your pets and moves on to you

Could the fact that I have two posts on basically the same incident be a coincidence? Maybe! BBC NEWS | Americas | Canada coroner condemns foot hoax:

A severed "foot" in a running shoe found in Canada's British Columbia is not human, the province's coroners service says.

It said the remains found near Campbell River on Vancouver Island on Wednesday belonged to an animal, describing the hoax as "reprehensible".

Five human feet in shoes have been found in the area since last August. All but one were right feet.

Right foot. Wrong species. If it were human, it would not be reprehensible: it would be prehensile-able. No. Wait. That's if they found a hand in a running shoe. Geez. What would a severed hand be doing in a running shoe?

Have they taken a good look at the other five feet? Maybe they threw them into a pile in the in the corner of the coroner's office. Then one day they will say, "You know, maybe we should get rid of theses old shoes -- hey, the feet ain't human!" Because maybe they just thought it was another National Health Service backlog. After 60 years you finally get to the head of the line and they send you down to the Morgue. But in this case people were just hacking off their own feet. And where do you put your severed foot? On the beach. Problem is, your broken toe still tickles even after you cut your foot off, so why do it? I mean, none of this makes sense. People should not operate on themselves. Or others. Or their pets. And as for torture, that just plain should not be allowed to happen in Canada. Well, I've had my say.

My left foot and yousin's right.

This sounds like a coincidence to me:

BBC NEWS | Americas | Sixth human foot found in Canada

Another human foot encased in a running shoe has been found on the shores of British Columbia in Canada, the second this week and the sixth within a year.

Like four of the others it was a right foot, a police official said.

The foot was found near Campbell River on Vancouver Island and appeared to have been severed, a witness said.

Police, who are not speculating on this, are trying to determine the origins of the feet and whether they (sic?) are any links between the discoveries.

Ever since that WMD intelligence fiasco in Iraq officials are not going out on a limb about anything. After all, it's possible six people decided separately to separate their foot and toss it out on the beach. And is that even a crime? I mean, if you get beyond the littering angle. But maybe they were just feeding the wildlife. Still, there is the problem of the running shoe. That would be litter, not crab food.

Another fact that points toward coincidence is that one left foot. This approximates the level of left handedness in the general population. My advice to the police: go down to the mall or wherever and question people who have recently lost a foot. Ask them where they lost it. And their shoe size.

Barry at the Barricades

During the first crisis of his administration -- which corresponded roughly with his term in office -- President Barrack "Barry" Abamo (not his real name) had to defend his pastor and mentor of many years, The Reverend Robespierre "Peewee" Leftnut. The Right Reverend Leftnut was criticized for exaggerating (wildly) "the truth" he told the nation at the Inauguration. Feeling the heat from the controversy, President Abamo famously said, "The Reverend Leftnut is closer to me than my right nut -- scratch that! I mean. He's as close to me as my demented grandmother and crazy aunt!"

Barrack spoke the truth. Before he even ran for the Senate, the Right Reverend provided him with the the insight that led to the winning slogan of his Presidential Campaign: "In Barry You'll Have a Friend in The White House."

Barrack was not a religious person when he first met his pastor. The music, not the doctrine, originally attracted him to the services. The foot stomping worship of the choir was quite different from what occurred at The Unitarian Church he grew up attending. He had found those services downright boring and the Rod McKuen songs they played made him want to puke (Sausalito and sign language/Commune and coffee/Stanyan Street and your wide eyes!). If it were possible to become a lapsed Unitarian, he would have done that -- proudly. Instead Barry joined the "Infinity Church" of Peewee Leftnut. The choir itself was worth the price of admission.

As a preacher, Leftnut was known to get "a bit rough in his remarks." Barrack thought this understandable. After all, instead of citing Ludwig Wittgenstein, Walt Whitman and The Transcendentalists, he used the "old testament" as his source. For Barrack his improvisations on those superstitions turned it into a spiritual jazz. The cadences and the rhythms of his oratory were such that it didn't matter what he said. The fact that large crowds could be enthralled by such blather is what Barry found inspiring. For instance, Peewee's sermon, "Whitey is an Honorable Man," did justice to both Shakespeare and Mark Anthony -- although Barrack zoned out a quarter of the way through. Still, it was good to hear the Pastor refer to Whites as honorable. Refreshing. As usual, Reverend Leftnut ended the sermon in a crescendo -- nay, in a cascade of crescendos that so worked up the crowd that Barrack could not understand the finer points. For instance, that certain segments of the population were devils and demons on account of what's in their DNA -- so no need to blame them individually, just watch 'em close.

But even though he misunderstood much, Barrack thought he caught "the Gist" of what his pastor said. He preferred "The Gist." Often, when he was a Senator, the member of some pressure group would come to see him, and put some thick report on his desk. And Senator Abamo would say, "Give me the gist!" And they would give him the Gist, and some money, and a promise to round up thousands of votes in the next election. And so he became quite fond of the Gist. And in this sense the Gist of Reverend Leftnut -- campaign contributions and votes -- was quite good indeed.

It was another of Peewee's Sermons that provided the occasion of Barrack's inspiration. The Right Reverend's sonorous voice -- which wooed before it wowed -- caused Barrack to drift and dream as he sat in the pew. First, Barrack wondered what the woman beside him looked like naked, even though she was his wife (he thought it would be a sin to envision his mistress). Then he mentally calculate the value of pi, carrying it out many decimal points (until it occurred to him he may have made a mistake way back, let's see...). Next, he envisioned a rubrics cube and began arranging all the colors. It was surprisingly easy. He wondered why solving it in his mind was easier than in real life. And as he wondered about the ease of solving puzzles, the Right Reverend's voice intruded, and injected the Gist into his mind as if using a hypodermic on his skull.

"The American people," Peewee sermonized, "need to Socialize more!" And Senator Abamo thought: this is true, we could all be more friendly and sociable. "We need to Socialize!" screamed the Reverend, "From the top down!" And the Senator nodded in agreement: being sociable was an area where our leaders could lead. And Leftnut Screamed, "The Upshot: Don't be economical as you Socialize! Be audacious as you Socialize!" Yes, someone must take the lead when making new friends. "The Upshot is! Socialize or shoot! It's The Upshot or be shot!" And Barrack saw it clear: we must reach across the divides. We must be friends or risk violence.

These insights led him to write his second best selling book: The Audacity of Friendship. His first was "Barrack Life," the memoir of the inner turmoil and psychological oppression he experienced as a student at an exclusive boarding school and an Ivy League University. In the end, he recommended to young people that they become ascetics rather than addicts to the globe-hopping swell life, as happened to him. If it were possible to be a lapsed jet-setter, he would be.

Thus the Right Reverend provided him with the title for his new book and the slogan for his campaign: "America! Sociable from the Top Down." He told the cheering crowds, "I know we are a needy nation. And a friend in need is indeed a friend! Other Presidents tell you the Bucks will stop. They even brag about the bucks stopping, as if that were a good thing! But I say the Bucks will never stop! When we run out, we'll print more!" He easily won the election, carrying every corner of the nation except the Economics Department at the University of Chicago.

Once it became obvious he would carry Fifty States minus an economics faculty, Barrack sat down to consult Reverend Leftnut about the sorts of people he should appoint to government. When they discussed the Supreme Court, Leftnut listed a number of qualities one should look for in a Justice. He felt the ability converse with God so that God can confirm your prejudices was most important. It occurred to the future President that the man who most embodied this attribute was the fiery Reverend himself. So he secretly determined to select his Pastor as his first appointment to the Supreme Court. It seemed a simple way to payback both the Reverend and the Nation for all that they had meant to him (and to each other). Now, it is true the Man of God lacked the expected legal experience, but he would more than make up that deficit with the "spirit" he could bring to the law.

With no initial Supreme Court vacancies, however, President Abamo decided he could best introduce his pastor to the voters by appointing him Poet Laureate of the United States. He thought "the master of rhyme and time" must surely be qualified for that position. Plus, when he nominated Peewee for the Supreme Court, he will have already been vetted.

The plan began to unravel at the Inauguration. The Reverend who got "rough in his remarks" did not disappoint that day. It was overcast and cool but Peewee warmed things right up. He intoned, "America's Buzzards are buzzing. It's vultures are vulture eating." Before the listeners could decide if those statements made any sense, he charged forward. "America's! Buzzards! Buzz: You murdered my Daddy! You raped my mama! America's! Vultures! Eat! Devour! The poor! Munch on! The Children! America's! Harlot! That Rich Bitch! Bitches! Gimme Mo' Money, Ho'-Ho'-Honey!"

The first fist fight broke out early. It was between an ACLU litigator and an elderly nun. By the time Leftnut suggested the nation "let slip the bull goose loonies of resentment; erupt the volcanoes of revenge; give the whole heartland heartburn," the riots were in full swing. It quickly spread to every part of the nation -- except the Heritage Foundation, which was burned to the ground but otherwise was too proud to participate.

The next day Leftnut left on a hastily arranged world tour: so sudden was the departure that foreign capitals hardly had time to organize flag burnings. As the cities smoldered and the ten trillion dollar "Uprising reconstruction and reparations bill" wound its way through congress, Barrack's advisers thought to ease the Reverend Leftnut out of the "newly empowered" Poet Laureate position. They decided to make him Secretary of Education since nobody knows who the Secretary of Education is or cares what he says.

But as Secretary of Education, Leftnut would sermonize at the weekly cabinet meetings. The only way to get him to shut up was to double his budget. Obviously, that could not go on indefinitely since fairness dictated that all other departments get similar increases. Even the Defense Department was having difficulty spending all the additional funds (though, surprisingly, the Education Dept. had no such problem).

Fortunately, there was soon a vacancy on the Supreme Court. The Law Clerks tried to awaken a Justice from a three year nap and discovered he was actually dead. So they erased "I completely concur with Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg" from the office chalk board and called the President.

Having already been vetted, the Reverend Leftnut sailed through his confirmation hearings. And all went well until noon of the first day.

Justice Leftnut wanted to nationalize the airlines but was confounded by a bunch of lawyerly arguments. So instead, he insisted the Court nationalize the Friendly Skies. "If we cannot nationalize the Airlines, then nationalize the air!" The entire legal community was so taken with the audacity of the argument that the ruling became law right then and there. Besides, it was the only way to get him to shut up. From that moment the Federal Government owned the skies, and any pies the skies may hold. In an editorial the New York Times called in a triumph of common sense over greed. On the futures market, the dollar price of air skyrocketed. It remained steady in Pesos. When Barrack heard the ruling, he suddenly realized what "Socializing from the top down" actually meant.

For ordinary folks Nationalizing the sky had consequences that only became apparent the next day. People woke up to the news that Federal Government now owned everything above the first floor: the top 99 stories of the Sears Tower, your attic and roof, the tops of utility poles and so on. At first property owners did not know what to do with this news, other than stop the mortgage payments. Barrack himself hoped that if everyone ignored the ruling, life could go on as before. But one fellow in St. Louis was getting his roof fixed, and figured since he no longer owned the roof he'd send the bill to the government. Soon everyone was getting their roofs fixed and upper floors remodeled -- and since they weren't paying the bills themselves, agreeing to double or triple the going rate (including kick backs). Instead of the tax payers sending in money, they began sending in different kinds of bills -- stacks of them. Within a week, the Treasury Secretary complained and quit. His temporary replacement complained and quit. The temporary replacement's temporary replacement complained and quit. And so on. The whole mess was now called "Barrack Socialism."

The Pie in the sky upkeep was too costly. Barrack realized they must privatize the air. Then they could tax the pies and pay all those bills. But to carry out what the New York Times now called "the most sweeping privatization in the history of the world," they would have to get Peewee off the Supreme Court. For it was said he held the other Justices by the ears: no one wanted to set him off sermonizing, so all decisions were now unanimous. They called the court, "Peewee's Sermons and the Supremes."

Actually, getting Justice Leftnut off the court proved surprisingly easy. On the court everyone had given up arguing with him. The traditional afternoon nap (after milk and cookies) didn't fit his temperament. And while being in a position where one's word is literally the law held an attraction, he soon realized it was contentious argument that he craved. So when the offer came for him to swap places with Senator Chuck Schumer of New York, he readily agreed. The formalities were quickly handled and within a week Justice Schumer sat on the Court and Senator Leftnut shared a desk with Hillary Clinton (the Senate office building was burnt to the ground during the third wave of riots so everyone had to double up). Barrack was so relieved by the change that even hearing that Justice Schumer wanted the country to make the country more sociable (from the ground up) didn't bother him.

The crowded office conditions hardly mattered to Senator Leftnut, since he spent all his time on the Senate floor. He and Senator Byrd launched a filibuster on his first day. The rest of the nation couldn't figure out what all that talk and argument was about, and in truth was preoccupied with its own problems.

Normally when the Capitol is in gridlock the United States does quite well. Unfortunately, it was during the Byrd/Leftnut filibuster that Hawaii and Alaska left the union. The rest of the nation rationalized this departure on a "Last in, first out" basis. When Texas left, it was pointed out that Texas was independent nation when it joined the Union. When California joined the rest of the Southwest in "The Peso Union" is seemed a reasonable response to economic upheaval. In fact, it was not until the Southern Confederacy reformed that the antebellum bells went off. But by that time the North had already seceded from the Union. So when the Byrd/Leftnut debate entered its third month, the United States of America consisted of Washington D.C., Puerto Rico, and American Samoa -- with the latter two reconsidering their association.

Afterwards it was unkindly said that the nation conceived in "just words" had achieved a fitting end: Not in a bang. Not in a whimper. But in a bloviation into oblivion.

THE END

My own West Wing Memior

West Wing Wounded (a look back at a previous election)

Scott McClellan took a hatchet to Republican President Bush; But I used a paring knife on Democrat President Bartlett (Pear)!

Well, there's jubilation in the nation, not to mention the White House. The closely watched election had a Hollywood ending when the the President's party stormed back to win. Of course, it was a literal (and yet at the same time figurative) Hollywood Ending because it was the Democrats who won and election night was on The West Wing, a classic TV Melodrama.

I'll recap some of the campaign.

I'm not good at names, but here's the cast near as I can remember:

President Pear: the Brilliant President of the United States. He's won six Noble Prizes (Peace, Physics, The Economics Of Taxation, Social Chemistry, Election Engineering -- plus The Noble Prize in Nobility). The rubes in the heartland find his brilliance irritating and are threatening to vote for someone really stupid and let the country's future go hang!

Gov. Filth E. Rich: The really stupid person they are threatening to vote for.

Leotardy: The Brilliant President's Brilliant Chief of Staff.

Joshington: I haven't quite figured out this guy's job. The Brilliant Chief of Staff of the Brilliant Chief of Staff of the Brilliant President, I think. Important thing to remember: He's Brilliant.

The Future Mrs. Joshington: I'm just calling her that cause I think it would upset her. The important thing to remember: She's Brilliant.

The election is close and too close to call. The nation is at war. Admirably, President Pear and Chief of Staff Leotardy are keeping politics out of the war by not telling anyone we are in it. Of course the whole Middle East knows and the Israelis know, but as a matter of national security it's important the voters not find out. So when San Francisco woke up one morning around noon and discovered the Golden Gate Bridge had gone missing, the administration announced it was having a make over. Good Morning America said it was about time that rusty old, "art deco thang" was replaced. All over the Bay Area the call went up: we want a new bridge with more je ne sais quoi! Gov. Davis called on all the bay areas available ferries -- boats that carry passengers and cars -- to help see them through. Then he blamed Enron.

Meanwhile, the Romance is back on! Joshington fell for a powerful lady lobbyist who is in the pay of Big Oil and the Petrochemical Industry. (This is after she sold her soul to groups pressuring for a lower capital gains tax!) Unfortunately, Joshington doesn't know any of this (it's revealed here for the first time). He thinks she's working for child safety caps on condom packages, so the little tikes won't fit them over their heads when they find them on the playground. Of course her real job is to encourage Joshington to push a stupid policy agenda that will undermine the Democrats! This sounds so not-nice of her, but remember: She gets paid more than he does so who should sacrifice for whose career?

So imagine her chagrin when he tries to do something politically smart. He pushes an administration proposal to encourage marriage without asking her first -- if he'd asked, she would've accepted his proposal. But like many men he's for marriage in general but for living in sin in particular. So she storms out and, in the manner of a scorned woman, works to promote a left candidate who will steal votes from President Pear. She hopes this will cause President Pear to lose and force Joshington to accept a job with ABC News, where both his credibility and his reputation for integrity will go down the toilet. Of course she says the real reason she left him has to do with back alley abortions. It doesn't make sense to him because they use three forms of birth control. She said it cause that's the only way she knows how to sound like a liberal.

She can't wait to have him come crawling back to her, which explains why she crawls back to him. Besides, the evil financiers have paid her to be a mole, and how can she be a mole if she isn't weasel enough to get into the inner sanctum? So she has to be a mole-weasel. (By the way, I don't mean to degrade animals when I compare them to certain humans). In furtherance of her career she wants him to advocate replacing the bubble gum in sports trading cards with "child proof packaged" condoms. This is an obvious public health measure since condoms don't rot the teeth. As part of this effort, she blows up a condom like a child's balloon, ties it, and hands it to Joshington. Depending on how he holds it, it resembles either an erect penis or a cute and cuddly animal with an extremely elongated (Huge! Enormous! twelve inch!) nose.

She's already earned a large bonus. Filth E. Rich was surely pleased when she maneuvered the Pear campaign into advocating giving out free hypodermic needles to drug addicts. She made it sound humane and good. But she knows when their voting base realizes this will happen in their neighborhoods, they will ask the sorts of questions small minded people ask -- such as: will the addicts break into my house before they pick up the needles or after?

The following week President Pear is "down on the farm" to practice for the upcoming debate. The President is at a disadvantage because he is brilliant and articulate. His opponent Filth E. Rich is all to willing to take unfair advantage of being a stupid, bumbling, tongue-tied oaf. "He's the automatic winner of the expectations game," is how Ms. Press Release (or is it Bull Slinger?) puts it. "Everyone thinks he's too dumb to tie his shoes so if he ties his shoes he wins!" But her real fear is Filth E. Rich will hire Noami Wolfe and she'll advise him to wear loafers.

So President Pear and his folks have their debate practice and immediately run into a problem. First, they have a brilliant staffer playing the stupid opponent and he don't know how stupid is stupid. Should he knock over the podium now? Then he can say, "I did not trip on my shoe laces!" Or Maybe: "This is my podium, Mr. President. I paid for it! And I will knock it over if I want to!" But instead he waits, and to start off makes a remark about families, how maybe the nation could do with few more of them. Right away this shows how Filth E. Rich could take unfair advantage of his stupidity to strip away all complexity from Social Policy.

President Pear gets over the top upset at this breathtaking lack of nuance. "Doesn't my opponent realize there are families," says Pear, "and then there are families? We dare not label, we cannot pick and choose between them! This is a question of real morality and I don't mean your simplistic grandmother's morality -- unless she's raising the illegitimate child! Point is we must make room for all families. Families where the parents are of different sexes, families were the parents are the same sex. Families where the parent are different sex, become the same sex, and maybe become different sexes again -- point is, we should help them. Often these are close families. Families were the sister is also an aunt and the brother is the father! How dare Filth E. Rich suggest we pick and choose who the government gives money too! What is the guy, some kind of Mormon?"

His staff is aghast. First, you should keep the answer to ten words. Second, instead of "illegitimate child" he should have said "child born out of wedlock" or perhaps "future adult not bound to a father at birth" or maybe "cute little free agent". His staff agrees with him, but wonder if he could talk around his position and spring it on the nation after the election? Or, put another way, could he put it another way? Maybe a third way?

So the quest begins. Find the third way...and put it in ten words.

Meanwhile, President Pear's secret war in the Middle East heats up. The United States and Israel (real nations) are locked in deadly conflict with Qumar (a fictional one, I think). Qumar is feisty. They are determined to fight until President Pear is forced to call press conference. The President is wisely determined not to let news of the conflict slip: for Jimmy Carter will immediately fly to Qumar and offer them economic aid and help with their missile program in return for a pledge to "talk nice."

Meanwhile, during the previous meanwhile his White House Aid Joshington calls his girl friend. Their romance blossoms whenever they're separated by at least two states. Joshington still thinks she is lobbying for child safety caps on condoms, but actually she's a "Big Oil" mole.

So Joshington, who believes she is an authority on Women's issues, asks her how she'd handle government aid to families? "Hey, I'm a woman and I just want the government to give me the money and then get out of my life. And I mean it. Butt out buster!"

"That is brilliant," says Joshington. "We take a position of extreme Socialism before the check is cashed, and combine it with an extreme Libertarian position after the check is cashed, and achieve real political balance! That's the third way: combine the Benefits of Socialist state with the life style of a Libertarian one!"

"Exactly," says the future Mrs. Joshington.

"Now, can you put that in ten words."

"Best I can do," she said, "is sixteen."


The election spun on spin and the spin swung on the hinge of the debate. But it was the debate that unhinged Filth E. Rich.

It happened at the end. Rich was winning as long as he kept the simple, well, simple. It was his inability to make the simple complex that did him in. Rich says, 'The government can't spend your money better than you can."

That was all the opening that President Pear needed. He looks at his grinning opponent and says, "There it is! That's what my staff has been searching for. The perfect ten word answer! But, Governor Filth E. Rich, tell me -- do you know the next ten words of that answer?"

This, of course, was a brilliant come back. You could see Rich trying to work it out. He looked not only perplexed, but confused. Problem is if you add ten words to the perfect ten word answer is it still the perfect ten word answer? It would have twenty words, wouldn't it? And would it be the perfect twenty word answer? Wouldn't you then have to remove ten words? Rich just froze on stage while his brain went into an endless loop, much the way Windows does when it's trying to convince me that my next computer should be a Mac. In the Rich case, you could see him short circuit with sparks flying out his ears. There was nothing left to do but concede. And he did so, right then and there.

This was a great relief to the nation. They like things simple, and nothing simpler than having one guy to vote for. Ask Saddam. Oh, forgot. He's dead.

I got a name for these guys: SAM!

The BBC asks:

BBC NEWS | Americas | What do the pictures tell us?

Although we do not know the name of the recently discovered tribe in Brazil, or what language they speak, it is possible to tease out some clues as to their way of life from the aerial photographs taken by the Brazilian government.

OK, my first question viewing this AP photo is: Which civilization is lost? Sure, the guys in the plane capture the image. But the guys on the ground capture the spirit -- of self defense. Plus, they know where they are and where they don't want to go. Second: When will Greenpeace slip these guys some Stingers? The Boyos got the right idea, they are just in need of a technological fix -- a more up-to-date bow and arrow.

And we got to get to them before Bin Laden does. We don't want him infesting another "tribal area."

As for their names: I think they are called the Hunters. Carpenters? Jungle Smiths. Alright, the tropical rain forest Smiths.

Elites need the other sorts

I think we also see a rejection of free market capitalism and meritocracy in favor of a credentialed, aristocratic elite and priestly bureaucratic caste -- both in the third world and the "West."

The other night I watched "Secrets of the Dead" on PBS. I like the program for what it reveals about Western Intellectuals. One show all but concluded that it really was the Christians who burned down Rome (Christians who were at the same time Jews!).

This episode dealt with the encounter of "Cortes and the
Conquistadors" with the Aztec Empire. The program centered on some Spaniards (including women) who were captured -- along with some of the more unruly subjects of the Aztecs -- and sacrificed.

The ritual involved skillfully ripping the heart out of a living human; lifting said heart up to the sky while it is still beating; tossing the heartless (and maybe headless, I forgot to take notes) body down a steep flight of steps; butchering said heartless/headless/disgarded body.

Well, I thought we could all come together on this behavior and say "that is just wrong." Liberal and Conservative could finally agree. Marxist intellectual and capitalist Robber Baron, finally, in agreement.

OK, maybe we all know that one person -- or two or three -- where such treatment may be understandable (but not condoned!). But to do this by the thousands? Can't we say that you've gone from being a Civilization with a problem to being a Problem with a Civilization? I mean, talk about the church militant.

Gee, do I ever lack nuance. First, it was done to keep the sun in the sky and the sun is still up there so they must have done pretty good job. Plus the Aztecs lacked beasts of burden and their subject people kindda filled that role. And what do you do with an ornery beast of burden? Well, you turn him into a much needed protein supplement. And in a way to encourage the others. So. Sun in the sky. Work gettin' done. Times were good.

Then Cortes shows up -- a combination entrepreneur and labor organizing thug who's gonna steal your retirement. If only he weren't an entrepreneur but, alas!

At this point the Aztec Priestly caste became the "resistance." The same hat trick performed by the Baathist Party (caste) in Iraq. An idea promoted by pretty much the same people. How do we know the Aztec Priests turned into minutemen? There were Spanish heads on those skull racks. Along with the heads of them new fangled horses. I mean, they want to take our jobs!

Well, I concluded that one priestly caste (tenured academia) identifies strongly with another priestly caste -- who no doubt bathed more frequently than the on-the-make Spaniards and were more respecting of books and knew the value of a good protein supplement.

I, on the other hand, saw them as bitter men clinging to their religion and their razor sharp obsidian ceremonial blades and blaming foreigners while fearing change.

Meanwhile the Spaniards slip into the role of the Aztecs. And those who rule now can have a certain regard for the problems the Aztecs faced then. I mean, keeping the sun in the sky is thirsty work. And as the sun gets closer, the globe gets hotter.

Sorry, I think I've gone a little long.

Sen. Obama Soars with Soros.

According Bloomberg .com, Billionaire Investor Carl Icahn opposes Barack Obama while B. I. George Soros supports him. Here is Icahn's reason, as quoted in the piece: Coupled with the higher tax rates that the Illinois senator has already endorsed, ``you would have a loss of confidence in the dollar,'' leading to accelerating inflation and ``much higher interest rates,'' Icahn said.

In their story they should note that George Soros is a Currency Speculator. After all, he may be shorting the dollar. From Ivestopedia:

George Soros gained international notoriety when, in September of 1992, he risked $10 billion on a single currency speculation when he shorted the British pound. He turned out to be right, and in a single day the trade generated a profit of $1 billion – ultimately, it was reported that his profit on the transaction almost reached $2 billion. As a result, he is famously known as the "the man who broke the Bank of England.

This seems like a real conflict of interest where B.I. Soros is concerned.

Whatch that racism, racist!

After noting that one in five voters in the West Virginia Primary took race into consideration, Kenneth P. Vogel and Carrie Budoff Brown write in The Politico (Five things to watch in Kentucky):

And though Kentucky voters may also factor race into their votes, they also might be more reluctant to admit it to exit pollsters, said Laurie Rhodebeck, an associate political science professor at the University of Louisville.

“Voters get a little prickly here if you say race” drove their choice, she said. “They’ll say, ‘It’s more that we’re concerned about his church ties or his lack of military experience or that he seems so young and untested.’ Those may be socially acceptable ways of saying they’re uncomfortable with a black candidate.”

OK. And what are the Socially Acceptable ways of saying he's unqualified? Let me think. I guess there are none. Silly me.

It is interesting to see what Liberals think of their own voters. Are you a racist hick Democrat -- even more of a racist than you are a sexist? Or are you an elvan, Rivindale, temperate rain forest dwelling, Democrat? And where do you shop?

(via Pajamas Media)

A Rube addresses the Ruben

Here is my take on the Ruben Navarrette Jr. piece at Pajamas Media "Is Racism Hurting Obama in Middle America?" Of course "Racism" ranks with "Global Warming" and the "Evils of Capitalism" in contemporary media's TOE of what's wrong with America. I left these thoughts in the comment section.

OK, if you want to argue that the Clintons are racist, that’s one thing. But the vast majority of their voters? I don’t see it. The anecdotes you present (in a nation of 300 million) are not that persuasive. I’m sure some of it really happened. I’m also sure some of it was made-up (that happens, too). But why are you branding almost half of the Democratic party racist on the behavior of a few? Even if among those few are the candidates themselves and their highly paid, media connected and beltway dwelling operatives?

In fact before the Left Reverend Wright episode, Sen. Obama got the votes of many “white working class men.” The episode provided them with persuasive new information and many changed their minds. What do you do in those circumstances? Banish all doubt?

We should remember that most Americans do not trust “objective” media. So when the objective media portrays someone in Saintly terms and then a locked safe full of dirty laundry and a biography full of poetic license comes to light, what do they do? They decide the rest of the reporting is crap, which is a reasonable conclusion. But based on the “objective” medias prior behavior, do you suggest the media be taken at face value? Are you saying if we are not idiots and naive fools, we are racist? You pitch the guy as transcending race. He has a racist preacher and terrorist friends and corrupt money men supporters. And somehow his “typical white” grandmother or someone he met at school is their equivalent. You guys not only buy it, you sell it. Where you got your heads?

The media sells Barak Obama in a way that would make history’s most despicable used car salesman blush. No “truth in advertising” laws for you guys. You just shove your past distortions down the memory hole.

Them that Are Suck-up-ceptible to Diplomacy

Part of being a bureaucrat is identifying the real enemy.

Wretchard at the Belmont Club discusses one Thomas "give Bush the" Fingar, the very model of the modern and methodical (and very much a prodigal) "impartial intelligence analyst." He's the fellow responsible for the NIE that determined Iran was no longer pursuing Nukes (as discussed in an LA Times piece). He claimed to be creating a "Just the facts, no matter where they lead" environment. They don't promote policy positions over at his place, you see. From the LA Times:

The draft concluded that Tehran was still pursuing a nuclear bomb, a finding that echoed previous assessments and would have bolstered Bush administration hawks. Then, just weeks before the report was to be delivered to the White House, new intelligence surfaced indicating that Tehran's nuclear weapons work had stopped.

New intelligence, eh? So you toss out the first report and quickly whip up a second one. No reason to suspect an ulterior motive there.

But did Mr. Fingar call the Iranians evil, thus compromising his "objectivity"? Let's see. It does sound like he is complaining.

"The unhappiness with the finding -- namely that the evil Iranians might be susceptible to diplomacy -- adroitly turned into an ad hominem assault," Fingar said.

Hmm. Or is that the clever use of irony by Mr. Fingar? Maybe the Iranians -- who've done him no harm -- are not the evil ones; maybe it is the unhappy ones, those who issue ad hominem assaults, who are evil. Perhaps he uses Sarcasm. Which means the Iranians, far from being evil, are susceptible to diplomacy. But this sounds like he is promoting a policy position through the adroit use of sarcasm. Is that allowed? Perhaps we should think of Mr. Fingar as the Shadow National Security Advisor.

Mr. Fingar sounds like a typical left intellectual. They don't have policy preferences, just superior insight and knowledge. They are "the reality based community" because they can make two plus two equal their preferred sum simply by using a clever retort and changing the subject.

Is Mr. Fingar advising the Obama campaign? We'll find out when he's fired for some politically off the mark remark. There will be no whining as he departs. And he certainly will not call Barak Obama a politician.

And now, allow me to flash forward: a year, more or less. I expect less.

In search of peace, President Obama goes to Tehran and says "You had me at 'screw you!'" The Mullahs coax him to wear his new gift: a diamond studded, "Death to America," lapel pin. Does he refuse to wear it because of the empty symbolism involved? Or does he put it on in the furtherance of world peace, the way he would wear any other bit of native costume?

He'll offer them the Zero option: "We'll gladly give up our 12,000 nukes today if you give up yours -- how many you guys got anyways? -- on Tuesday."

They say they will consider this if we give up our missile defense first, as a sign of good faith. He'll say, "Too late, already done that. What else can we do to show our good faith?" They will suggest we withdraw from Iraq. He'll say "Operation skedaddle is already in skedaddle mode. Sorry. Come up with something else." They'll say, give us time to think and we'll make a list. He'll say, can I make suggestions? They'll say, why not?

And he'll think, I cut my teeth facing down US auto executives, US Oil Companies, and US Presidents. These guys are nothing.

The most influential US political pundits

I thought if I made this list I might squeak in at number 50. But alas, that slot is occupied by Rachel Maddow, whoever she is. Apparently she got an evening radio show on Air America, whatever that is. I, at least, have a blog.

Maybe the Basra Screw-up was intended

I speculated a week ago over at the Belmont Club that the operations that started at the end of March against the Mahdi army may not have caught the US command by so much of a surprise as they state.

Both Baghdad and Washington are information sieves. So plans for major moves in Southern Iraq where rolled out for this coming July. These would mimic operations last summer north of Baghdad. Meanwhile, Iran would supply surprises of its own in April/May.

But the Iraqi army jumped off in Basra first. They apparently achieved tactical surprise (I'll speculate "in what way" in a bit) and the offensive (which will likely carry on through the summer) started off as an Iraqi on Iraqi fright -- with the Americans apparently caught flat footed.

The problem for Iran is that their "army" in Iraq is stranded behind enemy lines. That means they cannot resupply and provide reinforcements in timely manner. So at the end of March they would have stashes of weapons and a rough plan for future action.

They also have a clandestine system of command and control. Basically it is possible to conceal who reports to who and who controls what in times of relative calm. But hit them with a sudden crisis and immediately the chain of command has to reveal itself -- or lose its forces to inaction. Clandestine system lights up.

So immediately communications flow at a high rate through the organization. The relationship and rank of the actors become apparent to many "low level" operatives who found "relative rank" very obscure before. People are captured and talk about what they've seen.

The idea is to have Iran's gun in Iraq misfire. And it may have been the (somewhat risky) plan all along.

The Sadder Party fit for the sadirists.

Seems like this weekend we're watching the disaggregation of the Democratic Party. A couple months ago I speculated it might reach the point where both Barak and Hill run to lose the nomination. The winner will lose in November because a third of the Democrats will stay home. And the loser may well win the nomination and the White House in 2012. So each will work to make the other unelectable while assuring the other gets the nomination.

Obama's behind in this race because he's so far ahead. But the man's got talent. Calling out, "Send me your bitter, your angry, your desperate -- those who fear strangers and cling to guns and religion. I shall regester them (but not their guns!) and encourage them to vote for the first time -- those huddled masses yearning for free, well, hand outs." Hey, Barry, freeloading layabouts don't want it known. So who's gonna put an "OBAMA" sticker on their jalopy?

Now here he is (via Instapundit) ragging on Hillary: "She's talking like she's Annie Oakley! Hillary Clinton's out there like she's on the duck blind every Sunday, she's packin' a six shooter! C'mon! She knows better. . . . I want to see that picture of her out there in the duck blinds."

OK, Barry, it's all true but please, stop truthin' us so much -- unless you want to lose. Hillary won't even have to cry to get the gals marching to the polls now. I mean, knocking Annie Oakley.

Despite a great start, Barak will have to work hard to lose the nomination while making it look like it was stolen. Maybe he can blame it on Rush Limbaugh.

Barry at the Barricades

During the first crisis of his administration -- which corresponded roughly with his term in office -- President Barrack "Barry" Abamo (not his real name) had to defend his pastor and mentor of many years, The Reverend Robespierre "Peewee" Leftnut. The Right Reverend Leftnut was criticized for exaggerating "the truth" he told the nation at the Inauguration. Feeling the heat from the controversy, President Abamo famously said, "The Reverend Leftnut is closer to me than my right nut -- scratch that! I mean. He's as close to me as my demented grandmother and crazy aunt!"

Barrack spoke the truth. Before he even ran for the Senate, the Right Reverend provided him with the the insight that led to the winning slogan of his Presidential Campaign: "In Barry You'll Have a Friend in The White House."

Barrack was not a religious person when he first met his pastor. The music, not the doctrine, originally attracted him to the services. The foot stomping worship of the choir was quite different from what occurred at The Unitarian Church he grew up attending. He had found those services downright boring and the Rod McKuen songs they played made him want to puke (Sausalito and sign language/Commune and coffee/Stanyan Street and your wide eyes!). If it were possible to become a lapsed Unitarian, he would have done that -- proudly. Instead Barry joined the "Infinity Church" of Peewee Leftnut. The choir itself was worth the price of admission.

As a preacher, Leftnut was known to get "a bit rough in his remarks." Barrack thought this understandable. After all, instead of citing Ludwig Wittgenstein, Walt Whitman and The Transcendentalists, he used the "old testament" as his source. For Barrack his improvisations on those superstitions turned it into a spiritual jazz. The cadences and the rhythms of his oratory were such that it didn't matter what he said. The fact that large crowds could be enthralled by such blather is what Barry found inspiring. For instance, Peewee's sermon, "Whitey is an Honorable Man," did justice to both Shakespeare and Mark Anthony -- although Barrack zoned out a quarter of the way through. Still, it was good to hear the Pastor refer to Whites as honorable. Refreshing. As usual, Reverend Leftnut ended the sermon in a crescendo -- nay, in a cascade of crescendos that so worked up the crowd that Barrack could not understand the finer points. For instance, that certain segments of the population were devils and demons on account of what's in their DNA -- so no need to blame them individually, just watch 'em close.

But even though he misunderstood much, Barrack thought he caught "the Gist" of what his pastor said. He preferred "The Gist." Often, when he was a Senator, the member of some pressure group would come to see him, and put some thick report on his desk. And Senator Abamo would say, "Give me the gist!" And they would give him the Gist, and some money, and a promise to round up thousands of votes in the next election. And so he became quite fond of the Gist. And in this sense the Gist of Reverend Leftnut -- campaign contributions and votes -- was quite good indeed.

It was another of Peewee's Sermons that provided the occasion of Barrack's inspiration. The Right Reverend's sonorous voice -- which wooed before it wowed -- caused Barrack to drift and dream as he sat in the pew. First, Barrack wondered what the woman beside him looked like naked, even though she was his wife (he thought it would be a sin to envision his mistress). Then he mentally calculate the value of pi, carrying it out many decimal points (until it occurred to him he may have made a mistake way back, let's see...). Next, he envisioned a rubrics cube and began arranging all the colors. It was surprisingly easy. He wondered why solving it in his mind was easier than in real life. And as he wondered about the ease of solving puzzles, the Right Reverend's voice intruded, and injected the Gist into his mind as if using a hypodermic on his skull.

"The American people," Peewee sermonized, "need to Socialize more!" And Senator Abamo thought: this is true, we could all be more friendly and sociable. "We need to Socialize!" screamed the Reverend, "From the top down!" And the Senator nodded in agreement: being sociable was an area where our leaders could lead. And Leftnut Screamed, "The Upshot: Don't be economical as you Socialize! Be audacious as you Socialize!" Yes, someone must take the lead when making new friends. "The Upshot is! Socialize or shoot! It's The Upshot or be shot!" And Barrack saw it clear: we must reach across the divides. We must be friends or risk violence.

These insights led him to write his second best selling book: The Audacity of Friendship. His first was "Barrack Life," the memoir of the inner turmoil and psychological oppression he experienced as a student at an exclusive boarding school and an Ivy League University. In the end, he recommended to young people that they become ascetics rather than addicts to the globe-hopping swell life, as happened to him. If it were possible to be a lapsed jet-setter, he would be.

Thus the Right Reverend provided him with the title for his new book and the slogan for his campaign: "America! Sociable from the Top Down." He told the cheering crowds, "I know we are a needy nation. And a friend in need is indeed a friend! Other Presidents tell you the Bucks will stop. They even brag about the bucks stopping, as if that were a good thing! But I say the Bucks will never stop! When we run out, we'll print more!" He easily won the election, carrying every corner of the nation except the Economics Department at the University of Chicago.

Once it became obvious he would carry Fifty States minus an economics faculty, Barrack sat down to consult Reverend Leftnut about the sorts of people he should appoint to government. When they discussed the Supreme Court, Leftnut listed a number of qualities one should look for in a Justice. He felt the ability converse with God so that God can confirm your prejudices was most important. It occurred to the future President that the man who most embodied this attribute was the fiery Reverend himself. So he secretly determined to select his Pastor as his first appointment to the Supreme Court. It seemed a simple way to payback both the Reverend and the Nation for all that they had meant to him (and to each other). Now, it is true the Man of God lacked the expected legal experience, but he would more than make up that deficit with the "spirit" he could bring to the law.

With no initial Supreme Court vacancies, however, President Abamo decided he could best introduce his pastor to the voters by appointing him Poet Laureate of the United States. He thought "the master of rhyme and time" must surely be qualified for that position. Plus, when he nominated Peewee for the Supreme Court, he will have already been vetted.

The plan began to unravel at the Inauguration. The Reverend who got "rough in his remarks" did not disappoint that day. It was overcast and cool but Peewee warmed things right up. He intoned, "America's Buzzards are buzzing. It's vultures are vulture eating." Before the listeners could decide if those statements made any sense, he charged forward. "America's! Buzzards! Buzz: You murdered my Daddy! You raped my mama! America's! Vultures! Eat! Devour! The poor! Munch on! The Children! America's! Harlot! That Rich Bitch! Bitches! Gimme Mo' Money, Ho'-Ho'-Honey!"

The first fist fight broke out early. It was between an ACLU litigator and an elderly nun. By the time Leftnut suggested the nation "let slip the bull goose loonies of resentment; erupt the volcanoes of revenge; give the whole heartland heartburn," the riots were in full swing. It quickly spread to every part of the nation -- except the Heritage Foundation, which was burned to the ground but otherwise was too proud to participate.

The next day Leftnut left on a hastily arranged world tour: so sudden was the departure that foreign capitals hardly had time to organize flag burnings. As the cities smoldered and the ten trillion dollar "Uprising reconstruction and reparations bill" wound its way through congress, Barrack's advisers thought to ease the Reverend Leftnut out of the "newly empowered" Poet Laureate position. They decided to make him Secretary of Education since nobody knows who the Secretary of Education is or cares what he says.

But as Secretary of Education, Leftnut would sermonize at the weekly cabinet meetings. The only way to get him to shut up was to double his budget. Obviously, that could not go on indefinitely since fairness dictated that all other departments get similar increases. Even the Defense Department was having difficulty spending all the additional funds (though, surprisingly, the Education Dept. had no such problem).

Fortunately, there was soon a vacancy on the Supreme Court. The Law Clerks tried to awaken a Justice from a three year nap and discovered he was actually dead. So they erased "I completely concur with Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg" from the office chalk board and called the President.

Having already been vetted, the Reverend Leftnut sailed through his confirmation hearings. And all went well until noon of the first day.

Justice Leftnut wanted to nationalize the airlines but was confounded by a bunch of lawyerly arguments. So instead, he insisted the Court nationalize the Friendly Skies. "If we cannot nationalize the Airlines, then nationalize the air!" The entire legal community was so taken with the audacity of the argument that the ruling became law right then and there. Besides, it was the only way to get him to shut up. From that moment the Federal Government owned the skies, and any pies the skies may hold. In an editorial the New York Times called in a triumph of common sense over greed. On the futures market, the dollar price of air skyrocketed. It remained steady in Pesos. When Barrack heard the ruling, he suddenly realized what "Socializing from the top down" actually meant.

For ordinary folks Nationalizing the sky had consequences that only became apparent the next day. People woke up to the news that Federal Government now owned everything above the first floor: the top 99 stories of the Sears Tower, your attic and roof, the tops of utility poles and so on. At first property owners did not know what to do with this news, other than stop the mortgage payments. Barrack himself hoped that if everyone ignored the ruling, life could go on as before. But one fellow in St. Louis was getting his roof fixed, and figured since he no longer owned the roof he'd send the bill to the government. Soon everyone was getting their roofs fixed and upper floors remodeled -- and since they weren't paying the bills themselves, agreeing to double or triple the going rate (including kick backs). Instead of the tax payers sending in money, they began sending in different kinds of bills -- stacks of them. Within a week, the Treasury Secretary complained and quit. His temporary replacement complained and quit. The temporary replacement's temporary replacement complained and quit. And so on. The whole mess was now called "Barrack Socialism."

The Pie in the sky upkeep was too costly. Barrack realized they must privatize the air. Then they could tax the pies and pay all those bills. But to carry out what the New York Times now called "the most sweeping privatization in the history of the world," they would have to get Peewee off the Supreme Court. For it was said he held the other Justices by the ears: no one wanted to set him off sermonizing, so all decisions were now unanimous. They called the court, "Peewee's Sermons and the Supremes."

Actually, getting Justice Leftnut off the court proved surprisingly easy. On the court everyone had given up arguing with him. The traditional afternoon nap (after milk and cookies) didn't fit his temperament. And while being in a position where one's word is literally the law held an attraction, he soon realized it was contentious argument that he craved. So when the offer came for him to swap places with Senator Chuck Schumer of New York, he readily agreed. The formalities were quickly handled and within a week Justice Schumer sat on the Court and Senator Leftnut shared a desk with Hillary Clinton (the Senate office building was burnt to the ground during the third wave of riots so everyone had to double up). Barrack was so relieved by the change that even hearing that Justice Schumer wanted the country to make the country more sociable (from the ground up) didn't bother him.

The crowded office conditions hardly mattered to Senator Leftnut, since he spent all his time on the Senate floor. He and Senator Byrd launched a filibuster on his first day. The rest of the nation couldn't figure out what all that talk and argument was about, and in truth was preoccupied with its own problems.

Normally when the Capitol is in gridlock the United States does quite well. Unfortunately, it was during the Byrd/Leftnut filibuster that Hawaii and Alaska left the union. The rest of the nation rationalized this departure on a "Last in, first out" basis. When Texas left, it was pointed out that Texas was independent nation when it joined the Union. When California joined the rest of the Southwest in "The Peso Union" is seemed a reasonable response to economic upheaval. In fact, it was not until the Southern Confederacy reformed that the antebellum bells went off. But by that time the North had already seceded from the Union. So when the Byrd/Leftnut debate entered its third month, the United States of America consisted of Washington D.C., Puerto Rico, and American Samoa -- with the latter two reconsidering their association.

Afterwards it was unkindly said that the nation conceived in "just words" had achieved a fitting end: Not in a bang. Not in a whimper. But in a bloviation into oblivion.

THE END