I liken this here presidential election to an extremely inebriated twenty-something male sitting on a bar stool somewhere as the clock races towards the 2 AM cutoff. He’s seeing double just a tad, time is rapidly running out, he’s hopelessly desperate to fornicate, and the last of the suitable candidates still cavorting about in the bar are all dog ugly. What’s a libidinous boy to do?
Hillary is a phony and a pretender. And as her electoral fortunes have flagged of late, she switched from being this all-inclusive person demanding that each vote count to a ruthless campaigner clinging to obscure rules and party elites. This is a radicalized sixties’ child who started her lengthy activist career by defending murderous Black Panthers and who kick-started her senatorial career with a hubby-supplied pardon of convicted FALN terrorists.
For me, anathema and repugnant come to mind.
As for Barack Obama, he certainly talks a good talk, but by making him the president, I feel as if we’re making the trainee the new company trainer. I do find it heartening to learn that white people are coming out in droves to vote for him, since I’m so tired of having Kevin Lynn and Steve Corbett tell me that everyone I know or everyone I have ever known are hopeless racists.
Bottom line--inexperienced and too heavily entitlement-laden.
Then there’s John McCain. They call him a centrist, and that’s probably a fair label to tag him with. Conservatives see him as a traitor to the cause, which is probably is. I admit I’d find it extremely difficult to vote for the guy that co-authored the McCain--Feingold atrocity. But the thing I find the most alarming about him was his comment about being willing to remain in Iraq for 100 years if that’s what it took to stabilize that country.
Rightly or wrongly, George Bush got us into this mess. And while I realize that we cannot leave Iraq in a vacuum, we also need to extricate ourselves from that morass as soon as humanly possible.
After the 9/11 attacks, I was fully on board whereas prosecuting this War on Terror was concerned. Honestly, I’m still seething as a result. So much so in fact, that I will admit to being peeved when I encounter what are obviously naturalized Americans wearing Muslim garb. And while I do believe that most peaceful Muslims are secretly cheering on the much more radicalized and deadly fomenting hatred and mayhem from within their ranks, I’m not going to be hoodwinked into believing that the Muslims on this planet are the next great demon to be fought off, i.e., the Nazis, the Japanese, the Soviet Union or the New England Patriots.
With that said, I think that homeland security needs to be a top priority, as well as the sealing of our leaky borders. There are real threats to our security, it’s a dangerous world, but the Us vs. Them mentality need not get overblown to the point of squandering our formerly vast resources all over again. We don’t need an enemy (real or otherwise) to rally against. We need not allow ourselves to be whipped into a nationalistic frenzy. We need not invent the next Clash of the Titans.
If a satellite picks up a terrorist training camp somewhere, vaporize it. If a known terrorist is caught trying to cross our border, take him out back and whip him until he confesses to loving baseball, apple pie, and Grandma’s molasses/rutabaga cookies. And after he does confess to as much, whip him some more for good measure. Track down those Somali pirates, grind ‘em up a tad and use ‘em for shark chum. Capture Osama bin Looney, cover him in honey and incarcerate him in Rosie O’Donnell’s fridge. I have no compassion left for the murderous folks of the world, especially the nut jobs who actually think they are killing innocents in the name of their nonexistent gods. Water-board the lot of them.
But let’s not get sucked into this life-as-a-constant-conflict-of-good-versus-evil all over again. Soviet bombers buzzed our aircraft carriers, but the people of the Soviet Union coveted our jeans, movies and popular music. Silos in Kansas had ICBMs ready to make the short hop to Moscow, while Americans partook of imported caviar, vodka and expensive furs. Soviet surface ships purposely brushed against the sides of our surface ships, but nothing more lethal than a middle finger or two were fired as a result. But if things ever escalated to the point of shooting at each other, we’d have had two sets of diverse people who clamored for the same things getting the one thing they never really wanted--death and destruction.
After the Soviet Union collapsed unexpectedly (more bad intel), the military planners quickly pointed the Chinese as the next best menace to engage in that aforementioned constant conflict. And, yes, the Chinese military has been growing at an alarming rate, but it’s been proven of late that what the average folks in China really want sounds eerily familiar to what we want. You know, televisions, internet access and automobiles. So, should we spend trillions upon trillions to ward off the next best menace? Well, no, since we’ve redirected out ire at the newest next best menace, the radicalized nut jobs.
“Make that a hundred?”
I’ve never been one prone to forgetting about foreign policy, and I’m not of the opinion that we seriously shortchange our domestic policy needs, but what the hell? A long, long-term occupation will only be seen as one thing by those being occupied--an occupation. And with that said, the occupation will only serve as a recruiting tool for the occupied. So, the conflict lasts for 100 years, if that’s what it takes?
Again, forget how we got there in the first place. While I’m certainly not a part of the cut-and-run crowd, I want out of Iraq, and I’m getting sick and tired of reading about the deaths of soldiers from our area. And I fail to see how an occupation of peoples who think they are somehow fulfilling the word of god by fighting on against incredible odds makes any sense at all.
We can characterize our supposedly good intentions which ever which way it takes to make ourselves feel good about our assorted and sundry and far-flung military ventures, but the undeniable bottom line is that what we’ve delivered to the average Iraqi in the streets is seemingly endless death and destruction. And if that lasts anywhere near 100 years, trust me, the Iraqi’s are not going to be getting all heartfelt and thankful at the mere thought of America or Americans.
All I know is, short of leaving a pile of burning rubble in our wake, we need to get out the heck out of Iraq. And right now, I think the very last thing we need in the next president is a burning desire to prove he’s a hawk.
We’ve still got a huge military, the best available weapons contractors in the entire world, an enormous intelligence apparatus and vastly inferior but still determined opponent to have to deal with. We can fend off whatever we need to fend off, but we don’t need to stay in Iraq in perpetuity. And it is for that reason alone that I will not vote for John McCain.
So, what’s a libidinous boy to do?
Maybe I’ll just join the growing crowd of people proving both Kevin Lynn and Steve Corbett wrong by voting for the trainee.
Stay tuned on all of that.
Interestingly enough, on Sunday night I attended a surprise going-away party for City Administrator J.J. Murphy. As we covered here recently, he is being deployed to Dijoubti next month to coordinate search and rescue efforts in that troubled region of the world.
This is exactly the type of get-together that always gets me in trouble with some segment of the people that visit this site when I attend them. This is what gets people to calling me an insider, or something else equally off-base.
Yes, the party’s guest list read like a virtual Who’s Who of Wilkes-Barre politics. There was a Chamber honcho. Yeah, there were even a few county types in attendance. Worst yet, the soiree was held at Rodano’s, and we all know how and why Frank Rodano’s name has come up of late. But, the person who invited me said he was sure that J.J. would like it if I made an appearance. And out of respect to him and his tireless military commitment to this country, I was there. And if you don’t like it, tough.
Note to party planners: Bag pipes are not suggested for parties being held in smallish rooms. Cripes, Alice Cooper didn’t make my ears ring that much!
Anywho, it was fun and who could argue with free beer? I’m sure he’ll be somewhat limited in what he can disclose, but J.J. promised us some steady blogging feedback once he’s settled into his shack, or tent or whatever is in store for him.
Nord End Councilman, Mike Merritt, agreed to an exclusive Wilkes-Barre Online interview, which should show up here soon enough. He’s a very approachable guy.
Oh, and I’m going to be going on another police ride-along here in the city soon enough. I’m thinking when the weather is more agreeable. I can’t see myself praying for quick arrests and quick transports simply because I can’t wait to get back into that nice warm police car.
Last time around I rode with the 2-man “Viper” unit, which was an absolute hoot. If not, an education of sorts. This time I’m thinking of going with a patrol unit, hopefully Zone 5 (Nord End), but we’ll see as it‘s entirely up to the chief, not me.
So yet another of our best & brightest are soon to be off to another faraway trouble spot, leaving behind family and friends. And if you do that sort of admirable thing, keep him in your prayers.
And there it is.
Coming soon: The return of the son of the son of…
Marc: I spent a good part of the evening scanning your archives. I must say that at first I thought you were just another asshole who learned how to type, like a Jane Goodall monkey who learned how to give high fives and play the banjo. But I was truly impressed with your style and wit and your encyclopedic knowledge of current events, politics, and social issues. You do it almost on a daily basis too, which is truly remarkable.....I nearly broke some ribs laughing at some of that shit.
Thanks. Since we’re doing niceties, I have to admit that you are a man of some intellect, even though I believe it to be somewhat misguided at times.
As far as WILK is concerned, while I do loathe a couple of it’s on-air employees, we are at present…a totally captive audience, since there is no local talk radio alternative. I got hooked on talk radio listening to WABC while driving truck in New York City back in the 1990s. My absolute favorite was a guy named Lionel. I used to laugh out loud on a regular basis. I miss that crazed guy and his trusty sidekick, who’s name I cannot remember.
Let’s thumbnail the hosts, shall we?
Kevin’s usual schtick is almost pure, unadulterated hate on a daily basis. He absolutely hates anyone not currently clinging to a minority status. His unseemly seething…his unmitigated rage really, really comes across over the airwaves. He lashes out against intolerance, while he is barely tolerant of anything other than his own screwy beliefs. He is to likability what being burned alive is to having fun. He is NEPA’s preeminent basher of everything that average folks hold near and dear.
Sue is just a good-natured kid all grown up. I’m fairly certain she has a wart or two hidden there somewhere, but she’s hard to dislike. Most importantly, she tries to be fair with every caller she engages. I think the biggest objection to her is her religion. I mean to say, these days, morals and judgments made from on high are beyond anathema to the multitudes of rudderless people currently defiling the gene pool. If she’d just admit to having a drunken threesome with complete strangers, her popularity would likely soar, and even Kevin would start inviting her to the bar. As if.
As for Corbett, well, I’ve been tuning him out lately. I can last about an hour before I get tired of his banal and vapid ranting and raving before I just reach for the switch and turn the radio off. He’s overbearingly inarticulate. He’s forever going on about his family’s and his penchant for fighting, but he’s quick to condemn those who endeavor to do as he and his are or were supposedly known to do. And he has this tiresome bit where he tells us we should not be allowed to do exactly as he once did…you know, smoke, drink, carry firearms, drink and carry firearms simultaneously. It was okay for him to do it, but we’re too dumb to be trusted or something. Somehow, he’s become an elitist know-it-all, despite his coming off like a caveman who’s ingested way too many fermented berries. We are very quickly becoming the equivalent of talk radio divorcees.
Then there’s Nancy. My only gripe with her is that we are on ideologically different continents. And last I checked, she shouldn’t be stoned in public for any of that.
Good luck with the upcoming legal throw down and all. On March 4th, I will be emptying and rebuilding two termite rigs all day long. I’d love to take in the proceedings, but I do have a job to do.
I gotta go chop some freaking ice.
‘Til next time.