Saturday, September 30, 2006

Rep.Mark Foley (R FL)
Another Gay GOP Chickenhawk BUSTED

"...ABC News reported Friday that Foley also engaged in a series of sexually explicit instant messages with current and former male pages. In one message, ABC said, Foley wrote to one page: "Do I make you a little horny?"

In another message, Foley wrote, "You in your boxers, too? ... Well, strip down and get relaxed."

Foley, as chairman of the Missing and Exploited Children's Caucus, had introduced legislation in July to protect children from exploitation by adults over the Internet. He also sponsored other legislation designed to protect minors from abuse and neglect.

"We track library books better than we do sexual predators," Foley has said.

And he once accused the Supreme Court of "siding with pedophiles over children."

Foley was a member of the Republican leadership, serving as a deputy whip. He also was a member of the House Ways and Means Committee..."

There goes one GOP seat in the Congress.
Enjoy your NAMBLA membership.
Adios, MoFo.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Molly Ivins Says It All:

Habeas Corpus, R.I.P. (1215 - 2006)

With a smug stroke of his pen, President Bush is set to wipe out a safeguard against illegal imprisonment that has endured as a cornerstone of legal justice since the Magna Carta.

by Molly Ivins

AUSTIN, Texas - Oh dear. I’m sure he didn’t mean it. In Illinois’ Sixth Congressional District, long represented by Henry Hyde, Republican candidate Peter Roskam accused his Democratic opponent, Tammy Duckworth, of planning to “cut and run” on Iraq.

Duckworth is a former Army major and chopper pilot who lost both legs in Iraq after her helicopter got hit by an RPG. “I just could not believe he would say that to me,” said Duckworth, who walks on artificial legs and uses a cane. Every election cycle produces some wincers, but how do you apologize for that one?

The legislative equivalent of that remark is the detainee bill now being passed by Congress. Beloveds, this is so much worse than even that pathetic deal reached last Thursday between the White House and Republican Sens. John Warner, John McCain and Lindsey Graham. The White House has since reinserted a number of “technical fixes” that were the point of the putative “compromise.” It leaves the president with the power to decide who is an enemy combatant.

This bill is not a national security issue—this is about torturing helpless human beings without any proof they are our enemies. Perhaps this could be considered if we knew the administration would use the power with enormous care and thoughtfulness. But of the over 700 prisoners sent to Gitmo, only 10 have ever been formally charged with anything. Among other things, this bill is a CYA for torture of the innocent that has already taken place.

Death by torture by Americans was first reported in 2003 in a New York Times article by Carlotta Gall. The military had announced the prisoner died of a heart attack, but when Gall saw the death certificate, written in English and issued by the military, it said the cause of death was homicide. The “heart attack” came after he had been beaten so often on this legs that they had “basically been pulpified,” according to the coroner.

The story of why and how it took the Times so long to print this information is in the current edition of the Columbia Journalism Review. The press in general has been late and slow in reporting torture, so very few Americans have any idea how far it has spread. As is often true in hierarchical, top-down institutions, the orders get passed on in what I call the downward communications exaggeration spiral.

For example, on a newspaper, a top editor may remark casually, “Let’s give the new mayor a chance to see what he can do before we start attacking him.”

This gets passed on as “Don’t touch the mayor unless he really screws up.”

And it ultimately arrives at the reporter level as “We can’t say anything negative about the mayor.”

The version of the detainee bill now in the Senate not only undoes much of the McCain-Warner-Graham work, but it is actually much worse than the administration’s first proposal. In one change, the original compromise language said a suspect had the right to “examine and respond to” all evidence used against him. The three senators said the clause was necessary to avoid secret trials. The bill has now dropped the word “examine” and left only “respond to.”

In another change, a clause said that evidence obtained outside the United States could be admitted in court even if it had been gathered without a search warrant. But the bill now drops the words “outside the United States,” which means prosecutors can ignore American legal standards on warrants.

The bill also expands the definition of an unlawful enemy combatant to cover anyone who has “has purposefully and materially supported hostilities against the United States.” Quick, define “purposefully and materially.” One person has already been charged with aiding terrorists because he sold a satellite TV package that includes the Hezbollah network.

The bill simply removes a suspect’s right to challenge his detention in court. This is a rule of law that goes back to the Magna Carta in 1215. That pretty much leaves the barn door open.

As Vladimir Bukovsky, the Soviet dissident, wrote, an intelligence service free to torture soon “degenerates into a playground for sadists.” But not unbridled sadism—you will be relieved that the compromise took out the words permitting interrogation involving “severe pain” and substituted “serious pain,” which is defined as “bodily injury that involves extreme physical pain.”

In July 2003, George Bush said in a speech: “The United States is committed to worldwide elimination of torture, and we are leading this fight by example. Freedom from torture is an inalienable human right. Yet torture continues to be practiced around the world by rogue regimes, whose cruel methods match their determination to crush the human spirit.”

Fellow citizens, this bill throws out legal and moral restraints as the president deems it necessary—these are fundamental principles of basic decency, as well as law.

I’d like those supporting this evil bill to spare me one affliction: Do not, please, pretend to be shocked by the consequences of this legislation. And do not pretend to be shocked when the world begins comparing us to the Nazis.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Opera Canceled Over a Depiction of Muhammad

(NY Times snippet)
"A German opera house canceled performances of Mozart's
"Idomeneo" after a scene that depicts the severed head of
the Prophet Muhammad prompted an anonymous threat..."

Let me get this straight.
An opera house in Germany can't offer a Mozart performance without some Islamic extremist wing-nuts threatening them?
These extremists are really giving Islam a bad name.
Islam-a-bad...Oh, I get how they named that place.

I wish I knew more about the Koran because I'm pretty sure the prophet Muhammad wouldn't have wanted his followers to kill people just for depicting his face or physical embodiment.
Nor do I believe any true representative of God would want his followers to roam around perpetually pissed-off and looking for a fight.

If the radical Muslims (and the radical Christians, for that matter) want people to stop resenting them, they ought to learn to live and let live and mind their own goddamn business.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

How Much Is Too Much?

We know about 50 percent America has been stricken with a collective consciousness that is anything but conscious, but how much more can the NASCAR set take from the Bushitters before they join the rest of us?

When Bill Clinton recently lashed out against Fox News "journalist" Chris Wallace for asking him leading questions that seemed to try to pin the Bin Laden donkey tail on him, the Fox hyenas reported on his "meltdown" rather than on the simple truth he was telling.
So what if he was forceful in his delivery? I would have defended myself the same way against the smug Wallace.
As usual, the Fox crowd made a big stink about the way Clinton expressed himself, not about the veracity of what he said.
Like the allegedly forged Bush military records that ruined Dan Rather's career- the content of the documents were never disputed- the typewriter font was the "big issue."

A couple more high ranking retired military officers on Monday bluntly accused Donald Rumsfeld of bungling the war in Iraq, saying U.S. troops were sent to fight without the best equipment and that critical facts were hidden from the public.
Of course the Bush administration dismissed their statements as a Democratic ploy to get votes.
Bush ass-kisser in chief, Sen. John Cornyn (R-TX) dismissed the Democratic-sponsored event as "an election-year smoke screen aimed at obscuring the Democrats' dismal record on national security."
What dismal record on national security?
Didn't 9/11 happen on Bush's watch, and wasn't it perpetrated primarily by citizens of his beloved Saudi Arabia?

And more on a favorite topic of mine- Bush being a dry drunk.
Check this out:
Bush & Dry Drunk Syndrome
Thanks to Marla for hooking me up with the link.

Friday, September 22, 2006

I Quit, etc.

After 30+ years of being an avid smoker (except for a few years of abstention that ended in Ogunquit, Maine after a particularly crazy night with a certain ex of mine) I finally quit 10 days ago.
I sat next to a cardiac nurse at a gay conference two weeks ago and she scared the hell out of me about smoking and diabetes, so I quit.
I think God should be giving me a reward of some sort- something along the lines of a beautiful, single, intelligent, child-free, frisky lesbian whose estranged ex-lovers all live at least 1,000 miles away, and whose family lives even further.
Is that too much to ask?

And what about the racially divided "Survivor" this season?
I'm loving it.
I put my money on the Latinos. They work harder than anyone, they are used to harvesting food and they can easily deal with hot weather.
But why oh why did they send that cute Korean dude to Exile Island?
Dude found the immunity idol in about 15 seconds. Duh!

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Back to the Salt Mines

Starting October 2, I'm going back to work full-time.
I was offered a dream job in the journalism field that I couldn't turn down.
After 12 years of freelancing, it'll be good to get back to civilization and being around people again.
Please don't tell my cats.
I'm hoping they don't notice, since they sleep all day as it is.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Ann Richards: Oh, What A Ride
Part 4

On Monday morning in a light rain, Ann Richards was buried at the Texas State Cemetery in a small ceremony that included only her family and 500 of her closest friends. My sister and I didn't make the cut, but our friend Bettie Naylor did.
At 11 that morning, the giant Frank Erwin Center in Austin filled to near capacity for a public memorial for the Governor.
Invited guests included a couple of U.S. senators, five U.S. representatives, former Texas governors Mark White and Dolph Briscoe, National Democratic Party Chairman Howard Dean, Lance Armstrong, Sandra Bullock, singers Jerry Jeff Walker and Ray Benson; and Tom DeLay Prosecutor Ronnie Earle, D.A. of Austin.
Who did the Bush Administration send to represent his administration at the memorial for the Governor he succeeded in Texas?
Don Evans. As in, who the hell is Don Evans?
Fuck you, Bush.
Anyway, my sister and I caged some good seats, right behind past and present members of The University of Texas Lady Longhorns, the basketball team of which Ann Richards was a rabid fan.
On the stage was a lectern, speakers' seats and about 50 seats behind them for the amazing Wesley United Methodist Church choir. If you have to die, I say it's best to have a huge, African American Gospel choir send you off in style.
A small orchestra was in the pit beside the stage.
On each side of the stage were giant screens, one showing a photo of Ann making a speech, the other of Ann in profile with her firstborn toddler granddaughter, Lily (now 19).
Hundreds of white tulips were centered in front of the lectern and two other gigantic, white floral tributes flanked the stage.
Former Dallas Mayor and Ann's Secretary of State Ron Kirk was the Master of Ceremonies.
He spoke fond memories of Ann, then he introduced the choir, who sang a moving gospel hymn.
New York Post Columnist Liz Smith, a great friend of Ann's, was introduced next.
Her best story was about a lunch she'd had not long ago in New York with Ann and actor George Clooney.
Ann brought Clooney a piñata shaped like that bastard Tom DeLay.
After Smith finished, opera legend Jessye Norman got up and sang, "Ave Maria."
If you have to die, I'd say Jessye Norman would be the right pick to sing "Ave Maria" for you.
Former Mayor of San Antonio and Clinton Commerce Sec. Henry Cisneros followed. His speech was the usual, "what a great Texan she was..." thing. Ho hum.
Then the Kleenex came out in droves...
The video tribute began to the sound of Willie Nelson singing, "Don't Fence Me In."
Between the photos and brief video clips, my big sister and I were sobbing so hard we had to gasp between wails. My glasses were specked with flying tears. My abs got sore from crying.
After the video tribute, Hillary Rodham Clinton spoke in sort of a quasi Texas accent, dropping all the "g's:" from "ing" words. I wish she wouldn't have done that. You either have a real Texas drawl, a mild Texas drawl, or you don't.
Clinton gave a nice, standing ovation speech, but she's no Ann Richards and never will be.
Nice of her to drop in, though.
After Hillary came another flawless gospel song from the choir, with a fabulous woman soloist that made more tears come to our eyes.
Then Ann's firstborn granddaughter, Lily Adams, 19, got up and talked about the woman she and her cousins called "Mammy."
We remembered her when she used to run all over the room during legislative sessions when she was about 3. Ann used to let that kid get away with ANYTHING.
After Lily finished, Jessye Norman sang another song, then Ron Kirk closed the ceremony.
As we left the building, the rain had cleared and we faced a beautifully sunny day with a cool breeze blowing. We think Ann sent us the needed rain, then the beautiful day that followed.
Ann's final resting place is on Republic Hill, where 12 other Texas governors including John Connally and Jim and Miriam "Ma" Ferguson are buried.
She picked out the spot several years ago, officials said, near plots that have been reserved by former Governors George W. Bush, Mark White and soon-to-be former Governor Rick Perry.
Let's hope she can teach some of them a thing or two in the afterlife.

Godspeed, Ann.
We love you.
Ann Richards: Oh, What A Ride
Part 3

As the reporter for the documentary and I stood around looking for good people for her to interview, I looked out the window and nearly fainted.
Walking toward the front door of the joint were Lily Tomlin, her partner Jane Wagner, and two other women who looked like they must be local handlers.
I nudged the reporter and said, "Holy fuck, look out the window! Here comes Lily Tomlin and her girlfriend!"
We scampered outside with her video crew and cornered them.
Lily agreed to be interviewed for the documentary, "after she'd been inside a while," so I stepped forward and reminded her of the time we'd met in Venice Beach in the mid 70's when she was marching up the Boardwalk with a bunch of women for the Equal Rights Amendment.
I admitted how intimidated I was to meet her back then, and how I'd created some bullshit name-dropping connection so she'd think I was cool.
She patted me, said, "Bless your heart," then was shuffled away by one of her handlers, a large, scowling butch of a Mulatto woman.
Later on, while Lily was inside the bar surrounded by ass kissers, I spied Jane Wagner standing at the bar talking to one of Ann's former staff members.
I horned in, said hello to both of them, then Jane--the creative genius behind Lily Tomlin's creative genius-- asked if she could buy me a drink.
The staffer drifted away from us, leaving me alone to chat with one of my true idols.
After we chatted briefly, Jane said she had been drinking a bit that day and that she needed to eat something.
Just then, my big sister and her partner walked by and said, "Let's get something to eat."
I said, "Jane, this is my big sister R and her partner S. Would you like to eat with us?"
By then, Lily was outside being interviewed for the documentary, so Jane shrugged and said, "Sure."
We found a nice table for four, then quickly were joined by a couple of women who moved another table against ours to make more room. Jane sat at the head of our table, flanked on either side by my big sister and me.
Jane and I talked about the things she had written and produced, and I tried my best to crack her up. I actually succeeded a few times.
Then we started talking about how we were both television addicts...especially when it came to "Project Runway."
Meanwhile, the cranky Mulatto butch was seated next to my sister and eavesdropped on our conversation like a motherfucker.
She butted in and said, "Jane, if you lived in New York, do you think you'd still watch a lot of television?"
I asked her if she lived in New York and she sniffed, "Yes,"
Then I asked her name and she said, "Anna Something-Smith." I asked what she did and she glowered at me and answered, "I'm an actress."
I said, "What might I have seen you in?"
She said, "The West Wing?"
Turns out her name was Anna Deavere Smith and I'd never seen or heard of the bitch before.
I quickly turned my attention back to Jane, and in a moment of impulse I said, "Jane, I'll give you ten dollars cash for your e-mail address."
Jane laughed and said, "Come on, my e-mail address is worth more than that."
I said, "Okay, twelve dollars..."
Suddenly Anna Nicole Smith or whatever her fucking name was actually stood up and yelled, "Jane, don't give her your e-mail address!"
I looked up at her looming over the table and said, "But I'm not a nut, I come from a good Texas political pedigree!"
Just then, Lily and the documentarian walked back in, joined us briefly, then Lily and Jane left for their hotel, with Anna Who-the-Fuck Smith lumbering after them like the musk ox she was.
I so wanted to say to her, "Anna, nice to meet you and I'm so sorry about your son's recent death," but my Al-Anon program prohibits me from being an obvious bitch in person.
To be continued...
Ann Richards: Oh, What A Ride
Part 2

My big sister, her partner and I arrived at Scholz Garden around 6.
The place was not only packed, it was packed with people from all over the place that I thought I knew, but couldn't remember their names or from where I knew them.
A real tall, Texas-looking guy was the first person I knew but didn't know.
He turned out to be Turk Pipkin, an actor and author who recently created an amazing documentary where he asks Nobel Prize winners what we can do to fix the world.
In the throng of people behind him was the gorgeous Cecile Richards, Ann's oldest daughter and the president of Planned Parenthood, Inc.
As we worked our way through the crowd, I spied the familiar face of an African American woman whom I stopped and said, "I know you, but I can't recall from where."
"I'm Sheila Jackson-Lee.
My jaw dropped and I said, "Oh my God, Congresswoman! I loved you in "Fahrenheit 9/11."
She smiled and we hugged.
Then I said, "Girl, we got some screwed up messes up there in Washington. We need you to continue to rabble rouse those crooks." She smiled and said, "Oh, I will."
Behind her stood Ron Kirk, Ann's Secretary of State who went on to become the first African American mayor of Dallas, from 1995 to 2001.
When we finally worked our way to the back of the room to get a bird's eye view of the crowd, we spotted clumps of local state representatives, state senators and other big shots mingling.
Seated at a table was a woman with spiky silver hair and big eyes who kept meeting my gaze.
I thought I knew her from some San Antonio gay gaggle, so I finally walked up to her and asked from where I might know her.
She said, I'm Mary Beth Cahill. I ran John Kerry's campaign."
By then, I was chagrinned not to recall her name or where I'd seen her, so I rushed over to grab my friend
Bettie Naylor, the co-founder of the Human Rights Campaign, to introduce them.
I believe Cahill was the only person on Earth Bettie had never met, so I felt all puffed up being the go-between.
In the meantime, I'd been invited to recall memories of Ann Richards from my MSM reporter days for a small team of documentarians I'd met at the Capitol earlier. The reporter for the documentary and I clicked, then re-clicked when they showed up at Scholz Garden.
I told her I'd bird-dog some good people to interview for her documentary, so we hung out and watched the crowd together.
Please note, I am not a political star-fucker like that egomaniac blogger John Aravosis. My big sister has all the juice in Austin. I am merely lucky to be in her political shadow and have the proximity to the noteworthy based mainly on her, her partner and their Austin connections.

To be continued
Ann Richards: Oh, What A Ride
Part 1

Last Sunday morning, I sat on my living room couch reading in the newspaper about the ceremonies surrounding the passing of Ann Richards.
Once I read that her coffin would be lying in state in the Capitol until 8 p.m. that night, I quickly threw some clothes in a bag, dressed in black and hit the road for Austin.
My big sister and her partner asked me to join them after I was done at the Capitol.
We planned to go to Scholz Garden, a political beer joint close to the Capitol, for an informal wake for the Governor.
As I arrived at the Capitol, the line to get in snaked almost to the street.
On either side of the steps, bunches of flowers- mostly yellow roses- were thrown casually on the lawn.
Just as I was about to enter the building, two ladies asked the woman behind me if they could cut in line. I looked behind me, ready to glare, only to look into the eyes of New York Post Columnist Liz Smith and ABC Correspondent Cynthia McFadden.
On impulse I grabbed McFadden, hugged her, welcomed her to Texas and said, "Please don't think most of us Texans aren't aware that George W. Bush is an idiot."
She laughed and said, "That's for sure."
Just past the entry was a kiosk of photos of Ann in her early days.
Then, between two ramrod straight Texas DPS guards stood her rosewood coffin, draped with a Texas flag.
I stood at the coffin and said a prayer, then moved to the right to view another photo display- this one covering Ann in her active years as a politician.
I stood there and sobbed into my hands. I couldn't help it.
As I continued along the rotunda, I saw her portrait hanging among the other past Texas Governors. Hers bore a black drape at the top, and on the floor below were flowers and mementos visitors had left, including a "One Day at a Time" sign, no doubt left by one of her AA friends.
By then the tears spilled through my hands to the floor...until I looked to the right and saw former Governor George W. Bush's portrait.
His smug grin and dopey face snapped me out of my grief and led me quickly out the door.

Monday, September 18, 2006

The Saddest Day in Texas

I just returned from Austin, where for the last two days I was there attending various farewell ceremonies for the late, great Governor Ann Richards.
I have much to report but a sad and empty heart for now, so please check this site for a photo preview of today's funeral and memorial services.
It was as beautiful a send-off as anyone ever earned.
More later, I promise.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Project Runway

I can't write a funny review today, so here's one from Runway alum Nick Verreos:

I have spent most of my summer waiting for this moment – this season's corresponding episode to when I was kicked off. Who would replace me? In my recap last week, I speculated that it was going to be Kayne. If any of you followed Season 1 or 2, you can see how Kayne would be the obvious choice to go next. With the above in mind, I was ready to watch intently as I polished the crown of fifth runner-up that I was giving away.

Wearing a bias-cut Uli-esque dress, Heidi told the designers that she was having a party where she would announce what their next challenge would be. They gathered at the Pink Elephant club, where the designers popped open some champagne and pretended to have some fun.

Their faux festive mood came to a sudden halt the minute they saw Vincent and Angela enter the room. THEY'RE BAA-AACK! No one could even feign a real smile as they sauntered in. Kayne quickly chugged his drink, Jeffrey looked as if something smelled bad, and Laura, well, I was afraid her water would break over the thought of having to see those two again. Call the doctor: Mr. Smiley Pants and Miss Fleurechon got a second chance for having won previous challenges. They joined the remaining five designers in this week's competition to create a cocktail dress out of black-and-white fabric (and utilizing every scrap of material). And to throw a wrench in the challenge, three designers would be voted off this week.

In the workroom, Michael tried to come to Kayne's aid as he struggled with his monochromatic canvas of a dress. Laura's hormones and stress began affecting her, forcing her to almost have a breakdown in front of an uncomfortable Tim Gunn. I could almost see Tim looking for the mini-bar he hoped the producers had set up for him to take refuge in situations like these.

Eventually, Laura recovered to create what I undeniably felt was the best cocktail dress in the group. She designed a young, sexy yet elegant lace-over-satin dress, winning praise from all the judges – including guest judge, designer Zac Posen. Laura rightfully won.

Uli's dress was a surprising mess. It was too short and the sleeves were too long, a casualty of bad proportions. What was not a surprise was the paisley print fabric she chose. We have seen this from her week after week. Someone better pull her finger from the autopilot button soon. Michael's dress was a simple asymmetrical tube dress with a midriff corset. It was contemporary and perfect for drinks at Buddha Bar. Jeffrey's, on the other hand, was more appropriate for a hooker in Old San Juan, featuring goodies such as off-the-shoulder polka-dotted ruffles and thigh-baring leggings.

Returning designers Vincent and Angela were predictably dismissed for their respective comeback-kid creations. Even L'Oréal makeup artist Collier Strong could not help these two. Delusional Vincent exited saying that he has been "making beautiful music all his life…it's a gift." Excuse me, but since when is Vincent the Andrew Lloyd Webber of fashion? I somehow knew they would be eliminated AGAIN. Why were we forced to go through this a second time?

As I predicted, Kayne was auf'ed for his dress, mainly for lacking the requisite white color and a touch of class. Bye bye, Kayne, you'll wear my crown well.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Governor Ann Richards 1923-2006

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-W. H. Auden

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Briefly Commenting

The ABC Mockudrama "The Path to 9/11" has been discussed to death.

If anyone doubts the accuracy of this Clinton-bashing, neocon rah-rah piece of fiction, look no further than the way they spelled Madelyn Albright's first name: "Madeleine."

The real issue for me is, who paid for the 5.5 hours of prime time programming for a Mockumentary like this to be aired commercial-free?
Some company (or companies) with deep pockets and a hidden agenda paid for it.
When a commercial enterprise finances governmental propaganda, which this movie clearly was, it's called fascism.

The Saudi terrorists hit on Bush's watch on September 11, 2001 because they have owned Bush since they gave him seed money for his failed Arbusto Oil company.
They owned his daddy when they paid him off to offer up American troops in 1992 as rent-a-cops when Saddam Hussein hassled Saudi Arabia and Kuwait.
They rewarded Bush Senior after he was ousted from the White House by giving him a big money gig with The Carlysle Group, an international conglomerate in which the Bin Laden family once held a large chunk.

The Saudi terrorists, headed by Saudi Osama Bin Laden, a member of one of Saudi Arabia's wealthiest families, could and will strike America whenever they damn well please, as long as a Bush is in office.

With Bush being entirely owned and operated by the Saudis, he is the 20th terrorist of 9/11.

Osama Bin Laden will never be captured on Bush's watch because the Saudi's own Bush and they will not allow it. It's as simple as that.

Monday, September 11, 2006


I'm too pissed off to think straight enough to blog about how the GOP and the neo-cons are feasting off the corpses of 9/11 today.
Plus, I want to finish part 2 of that ridiculous mock-u-drama ABC is running tonight before I feel I'll have enough information to write about it accurately.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Karl Rove's stepfather was gay, book asserts

SUMMARY: The top Bush aide was close to his father figure, Louis Rove, who died in Palm Springs as Rove worked on Bush's gay-baiting 2004 campaign.

A new book from the authors of a previous tome about the life and work of Bush political adviser Karl Rove claims that Rove's stepfather was gay, the American-Statesman newspaper of Austin, Texas, reported.

In "The Architect: Karl Rove and the Master Plan for Absolute Power," James Moore and Wayne Slater dedicate two chapters to the touchier side of the Republican Party's exploitation of antigay sentiment.

In Chapter 9, "A Few Simple Questions: What's in Karl's Closet?" the authors draw on interviews with gay acquaintances of Rove's stepfather, Louis Rove, as well as an interview with a circumspect Karl Rove, to reveal that Louis came out as gay after divorcing Rove's mother, according to the American-Statesman.

The chapter jabs hard at Rove, pointing out that Louis Rove, who was clearly Rove's primary father figure, died in Palm Springs, Calif., just as "his son was in the midst of launching the anti-gay issues campaign that was to lead to the re-election of George W. Bush."

The authors quote Rove and friends of Rove's stepfather to illustrate that Rove was close to him throughout his life and seemed not to judge his sexuality. This, and Rove's self-professed agnosticism, are major exhibits in Moore and Slater's claim of hypocrisy.

Moore, an Austin-based journalist, and Slater, senior political writer for the Dallas Morning News, paint a sharp portrait of an intelligent, ruthless and deeply cynical Karl Rove.

Though this is their second book on Rove (after 2003's "Bush's Brain"), there's little overlap. Bush's Brain focused on Rove's rise and the development of his association with George W. Bush; "The Architect" focuses on how he pursued the creation of an enduring Republican hegemony. (The Advocate)

--PlanetOut News

Friday, September 08, 2006

The following editorial was written by Jerry Politex, the creator of the fabulous
e-news source, "Bush Watch."

Editorial: "The Path to 9/11": Follow the Money, Jerry Politex

Many observers have little doubt that the main purpose of "The Path to 9/11" is to support the distorted version of world events favored by the Bush administration with an eye towards minimizing Republican congressional defeat in November so Bush can continue to screw our country big time in his last, two-year gasp as Decider-in-Chief.
It won't take much, since CNN informed us the other day that 43% of the American people still think Saddam had a hand in 9/11. CNN senior political analyst and American Enterprise Institute resident fellow Bill Schneider reported that the 43% in question tend to be uneducated, while those who believe Saddam had nothing to do with 9/11 tend to be the opposite: educated readers who get their news from numerous sources, rather than "24."
Cyrus Nowrasteh, the author of "The Path to 9/11," is involved in the making of "24." Figures.
As for that 43%, it's not likely that the ABC film will change their view of the correctness of Bush's invasion of Iraq, since they're not apt to see any difference between documented fact and made up dramatization.
The Rovean thinking goes that if the American public sees the Clinton administration as being responsible for taking its eye off the ball prior to 9/11, then the horrendous mistakes and misdeeds of the Bush administration sorrounding that event will not be seen in such a harsh light, leading to the voters cutting Republican candidates some slack for backing Bush since 9/11.
The facts, of course, are quite different. As I wrote in "9/11, Bush Lies, and the Puppet Presidency" (BIG BUSH LIES, 2004), the Clinton admistration developed a plan to get rid of Bin Laden, but the Bush administration shelved the plan once in power. While DOJ's Janet Reno gave anti-terrorism her first priority and called for an even larger budget for it, Bush's John Ashcroft slashed anti-terrorism budgets and programs once he took over.

In "Path to 9/11" we're seeing one of the most blatant attempts in history to shape the facts to reflect a predetermined point of view, not just for the U.S., but for international consumption as well.
As is so often the case in politics, we have to follow the money. Since there are no sponsors of the show (there are no commercials) one wonders how ABC is picking up the financial slack for presenting 5 hours of non-commercial TV on its commercial network.
Not with distribution rights or unit sales, since ABC is freely providing both over the internet.
Nothing has been said about the funding source in any of the many news and opinion reports published to date. Until we learn more about where the money for such an expensive undertaking is coming from, our experience of the workings of the Bush administration suggest that this Bush propaganda project is being carried out with corporation and government working hand-in-hand to change history for political ends.
In other words, what we're seeing is a classic case of fascism in action.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Attention: All Suckers

If you're planning to watch ABC's "Path to 9/11" you're falling once again for more fetid Bush propaganda.
In essence, the sensationalist liars who put together this fictitious piece of crap would like you to believe that the Clinton administration was ultimately at fault for 9/11.
It doesn't matter that it occurred on Bush's watch; those conniving sons of bitches haven't taken responsibility for anything from environmental disasters, to FEMA's mismanagement, to rising gas prices, to any damn thing.
Clinton's administration endured a few terrorist activities, to be sure. A military ship was damaged. A parking area was bombed.
Bush's stupidity and lack of successful leadership experience made his reign a perfect time for terrorists to get the drop on us and do some serious damage. Think of it as Sheriff Andy Taylor being away from Mayberry and leaving Deputy Barney Fife in charge.
People are sick of the 9/11 sky is falling rhetoric.
We thinking people are more scared of having an idiot in charge than another terrorist attack.
This stupid, made for TV movie is one last ditch effort at swaying the sheep and lemmings into thinking Bush the bullying imbecile and his GOP criminal cohorts should still be trusted.
Fuck them and fuck this phony docudrama.
And fuck ABC for pandering to the terminally ignorant.
I'd boycott ABC, but I don't watch any of their crappy programming as it is.
So Much News!

Before I start in with my weekly Project Runway review, I'd like to comment on some juicy news bits I've come across the last day or two.
Bush admitted yesterday that he and his sadistic posse did have a shitload of secret prisons scattered all over, but now he's had the baddest of the bad guys shipped to Gitmo for eventual war tribunals (if he gets permission to hold the tribunals).
In the meantime, he claims, they will not be tortured because as we all know, Bush is The Decider, not The Torturer.
In livelier news, it seems Paris Hilton was busted for DUI in Hollywood last night. Her blood alcohol level was said to be ever so slightly over the legal limit, so I'm thinking the skinny bitch starved herself all day, then ate a martini olive and got buzzed off it.
Kevin Federline whined to Ellen DeGeneris yesterday that being married to his meal ticket Britney Spears was "hard, hard work." Hey, who among us would have a problem snuggling up to her rich butt after a day of being a lazy, talentless baby making machine?

Last night on Project Runway, I was nearly convinced the show was too rigged to continue watching.
Then they voted off Vincent and I sighed with relief. There is justice in the fashion world.
Last week, the challenge was to design jet-set wear for themselves.
Once they donned their outfits, they were all whisked away to Paris where no-chin tattoo neck Jeffrey won the prize with his aging rock star costume.
By the way, his psycho tattoo says, "Hamilton Detroit" with some Italian proclamation of love for his son Hamilton Detroit underneath. Who would name a kid that, much less have it carved into his neck in 88 point script?
Anyway, Angela, who resembles my sister's first girlfriend, was righteously booted off for her hideous brown, silk linen pedal pushers with two of her jumbo, trademark fleurchons planted smack dab in the middle of each ass cheek.
Even I couldn't forgive that ensemble- although Vincent's black and charcoal pajama suit and Kayne's white trash Elviswear were close seconds in the hideous category.
Last night the contestants were tasked with designing an haute couture gown from the workrooms of Parsons Paris.
Haute couture is so fancy, Parisienne designers must intern for about a decade to eventually be licensed by the government to call themselves couturiers.
Couture design is known for flawless finishing, hand-sewn hems and other details, and usually requires a team of tiny handed French seamstresses several weeks to finish one gown.
Not these guys.
They got two days and 300 Euros ($375USD) to put together their entries.
In order of viewer ratings, here's the best to the worst:
Uli the German woman made a gorgeous, flowing gown of pearl gray charmeuse. She clearly should have won, especially since she raised the bar by selecting a solid color instead of one of her trademark prints.
Kayne made a complicated bronze-colored gown with a great corseted top and a skirt that fluttered just right as his model walked. The judges hated it but I thought it was hot.
Michael made a sloppy sort of slate blue gown with goofed up ruching up top. Not his usual quality. The look was improved by his tucking in the big titty cupcakes he'd designed into the gown, but not by much.
Jeff no-neck made a gaudy monstrosity in two patterns of bright yellow cotton plaid and madras, with bells and whistles and tentacles and ribbons... all in different lengths. It looked like a huge pile of fabric on and off the model.
Laura, whose belly is now brimming with a three-month-old fetus, designed an unfortunate slim black gown with a lacy, starchy stand-up white cuffs and a collar that extended into a deep V. Anyone who recalls Yves St. Laurent in his 1970's heyday would see the similarities.
Then there was Vincent- whose gold colored gown was done in a brocade sofa upholstery fabric down below and a silk top, which he unfortunately sewed on backward with the model's breasts exposed just to the modest side of each areola.
The sleeves were especially hideous, shaped a little like the ace of spades.
His model Gia was the one who got hit by a bus- apparently two buses, the first being Vincent's tacky glue-gun couture.
So who won?
That fucking Jeffrey, with his yellow cotton plaid circus tent of a mess.
See for yourself:

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

G.O.P. Sets Aside Work on Immigration
Going into a critical pre-election stretch, Congressional
Republican leaders will concentrate on national security
issues instead of immigration..."

Yeah, right.
They didn't want to expose the huge chasms within their party about immigration, so suddenly this "issue of vital importance" will disappear because the GOP fears it won't play well at the polls.
Truth be told, the fascist GOP captains of agro-industry rely on cheap foreign labor to do their bidding for pennies on the dollar so they can pocket the profits their exploitation provides.
Rest assured, some deep pocketed Big Dogs in the industry told that imbecile Bush and his lackeys in the Congress to eat immigration reforms, and they did.
So, now they are opting to play the national security card again?
What national security?
FEMA failed New Orleans and the Gulf. It's still a fetid, stinking cesspool down there and everyone knows it.
Airports are STILL NOT retrofitted to security measures even close to Tel Aviv's airport.
Taking the war to them, i.e. Iraq, was and is a fucking joke.
Does anyone think Iraq is not the biggest, most expensive boondoggle in American history?

The GOP stands for nothing but fattening the wallets of corporate white American men.
Unless you're a rich, powerful, white, Christian man- send those bastards a message in November.
They've been fucking us for years.

It's time for THEM to bend over.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

The Kickapoo Lucky Eagle Casino

I came, I saw, I was almost conquered.
I spent the day with some friends down In Eagle Pass, a dreary Texas border town whose only claim to fame is one of Texas's two Indian casinos, in this case being the Kickapoo Lucky Eagle.
The good news is, in four and a half hours I only lost about $38.
The place is clean and spacious, but the machines are mostly those goofy, off-brand cartoon kinds where you have to have at least an associate's degree in gaming design to even begin to understand what you need to do to win a buck or two.
The staff was sure as hell not helpful in explaining the games- I doubt they knew more than I did about them, which was next to nothing. Plus, they hardly spoke any English.
After pissing away a 20 trying to find a quarter or dollar machine that felt right, I settled into a bank of penny machines, where for 24 cents a pull you can win up to $1.50 or more on a winning line. I spent maybe 20 bucks on those machines and made about 16 bucks beyond my initial investment.
I never thought I'd play penny slots at any casino, but the rest of the machines were all so space age and confusing, the pennies were the only machines I didn't think would wipe me out in the first hour.
In the last hour, I played a quarter machine that paid $21 on a $20 investment, so that was about as exciting as it got.
There were no free drinks.
I think they worry too much about the Kickapoos drinking free cocktails and going off their collective nuts. That shit you hear about drunk Indians is true- the politicaly correct just need to deal with it.
A well drink cost $4.75 and a lukewarm bottle of Diet Coke was 2 bucks. And besides the unappetizing $7 buffet, all they had were small bags of pork rinds- which are pretty delicious when one's stomach is snarling.
We were pretty exhausted on the two hour drive home, made extra tedious by the soundtrack CD playing on the stereo from the movie, "Brother, Where Art Thou" with it's abysmally depressing 1930's era country music. My head would have exploded, but I was too tired to spend the energy getting worked up over it. Mostly I just went into a daze until it was over.
I had fun, but I have Vegas withdrawal symptoms big time now.
But for less than $40, the Lucky Eagle was a great little diversionary day trip.
I'd go again, just not anytime soon.

Happy Labor Day, kemosabes.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Creativa, Restorativa, Positiva, Negativa and Imbeciliva

I was in line at Brooke Army Medical Center today getting a prescription filled.
I stood behind an older lady, chatting aimlessly with her when a young GI rolled by in a shiny new wheelchair, with both of his legs amputated and freshly bandaged.
The lady and I looked at each other sadly, and I said, "I hate this war."
She nodded in agreement.
I added, "And I hate the idea of those draft dodgers in the Bush administration waging this war. And I'm a liberal saying that."
She said, somewhat defensively, "I'm a Christian," as if being a Christian was the polar opposite of being a liberal.
I said, "Well, Jesus was a total liberal, so you're in good company."
By then, she was called to the window and walked away.
That was before I could explain to the old fool how Iraq had nothing whatsoever to do with 9/11, and how Bush was a fucking idiot who embodied the Anti-Christ.

Attention Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists and Hindus:
Your God does not advocate killing in his (or her) name.
Your God is not on anyone's side during wartime.
There is nothing holy about war.

If you love your God, you should hate ALL war.
It's as simple as that.