Archive for May, 2007

Republican Debate: An Endangered Species Attempting a Comeback by Inter-Breeding with Democratic Mules

Saturday, May 5th, 2007

The Cult of Personality (which is a bad thing if you’re fascist, communist, etc., but is AWESOME if you’re Republican) surrounding Ronald Reagan continues as the first Republican Presidential Debate of the 2008 season was conduct at His Presidential Library.

Notable among the ten candidates was the lack of almost anything separating them. All ten paid homage, more or less, to the late President. All ten hitched themselves to the “W”s War in Iraq as being a good idea, just “horribly mismanaged.” Barry Goldwater must be laughing in his grave.

Once upon a time, the G.O.P. had men of substance who expressed opinions because they believed in them. Men like Abraham Lincoln and Barry Goldwater.

Opposing slavery was bound to make Lincoln popular only among abolitionists who were anything but a majority in 1860. More interesting still is a speech given by Lincoln in Congress around 1848 concerning the rights of a people to revolt. This speech was cited in a famous dissent by Justice Black. I doubt there’s a single Republican on the planet still gasping who would embrace that speech now.
Advocating for a strong nuclear and conventional force, along with an open will to use them, clearly cost Goldwater the 1964 election. Nevertheless, he stood by his convictions. When cost overruns threatened to send the Apache Helicopter Program beyond the pale, Senator Goldwater spoke out strongly even though many of the subcontractors for the program were in Arizona. Senator Goldwater even had the guts to admit that he went too far in advocating the damming of the Colorado River. Can you ever imagine the “W” issuing even the smallest mea culpa?
Now we have only reproductive rights and whether Rumsfeld should have been terminated before or after the 2004 Election to separate the ten candidates. Wow, what diversity of choice we have.

The problem with reproductive rights is that no one gets it, yet. Roe v. Wade rests on Griswold. Abortion is a horrid way to do birth control, but the operant phrase is “birth control.” It is difficult for me to imagine a direct reversal of Roe leaving anything of the right to privacy left for individuals to go to the drug store and purchase birth control without a court order. You heard it here first . . . :)

And speaking of right to privacy, if you think the Patriot Act is bad now, just wait until Roe and Griswold are no more and there is no right to privacy–period!
The problem with the War in Iraq is that “horribly mismanaged” does not do justice to what occurred. The means necessary to achieve a political settlement on the ground were never allocated and never intended to be allocated. The first is obvious from the protraction of this conflict. The second flows from the first–if the “W” and Cheney had really wanted to “win” this war and not stage a publicity coup, then at least some semblance of acknowledging the war planners’ estimates of 500,000 troops would have been made. Instead, Cheney and Rumsfeld personally scoffed at these numbers to their undying regret before the bar of history.

Yet none of the ten ever came to grips with either of these unpopular realities. The Republicans are in desperate need of some debate-oriented “genes.” May I suggest some Congressional Democrats?

R.I.P. Walter C. Wonker

Friday, May 4th, 2007
I lived for each moment
I slaved to sate my appetites,
I regret nothing;
Only pleasures remembered.

I attended church;
Received the pastor’s blessing,
Dropped a dime in the offering,
And sinned on Monday . . .

Loved my wife,
Screwed my mistresses,
Destroyed my sons;
Pimped my daughters.

Greed is Good,
Lust is Love,
Sex is Sincere,
Trademarks are Truth.

Fox is Factual,
Miss America is a Journalist,
God is a black Oldsmobile,
With gold and silver trim.

I ate it all,
Savored none of it,
And took it with me to the grave.
Die young suckers!

Copyright © 2007, 2008 by John Merryweather Cooper. All Rights Reserved.

Lost and Not Found

Friday, May 4th, 2007

On the black rook over pit dark a hero stands.
Oar in right hand steel in left fist forlorn vigil
Screaming at last dark defiant hail Ulysses!
Ever battles lost, and not found lost, and not found

Both hands hold rudder searching for home running the wind
Mariner sails gray rack wind blows forlorn duty
Screaming at last sea-surrendered hail Ulysses!
Ever battles lost, and not found lost, and not found

Achilles’ fate deathless lying leaving a curse
Ever wandering rolling a toss never resting
Screaming at last fates forgiven hail Ulysses!
Ever battles lost, and not found lost, and not found

Penelope! Remembered long love in the mist
Buttress’d by oak weak heart failing never trusting
Screaming at last passion’s pleading hail Ulysses!
Ever battles lost, and not found lost, and not found

Telemachus! Oh no, my son! Immortal gift
Proud and loyal dark heart hides him never blessing
Screaming at last heart a-hammering hail Ulysses!
Ever battles lost, and not found lost, and not found

Homer’s dark hell cannot come home life so empty
Justice a farce end not written death demanding
Screaming at last final foretaste hail Ulysses!
Ever battles lost, and not found lost, and not found

Where’s the beacon? mariner’s hope light to lead on
Pride snuffed out the fallen God untimely death
Screaming at last the end has come folly forsakes
Us, left to die Hail Ulysses! The last goodbye

Hail Ulysses! And hail again . . . clever warrior
Matchless valor that never ends that never ends
That never ends that ne-ver ends that ne-v-er ends . . .


Copyright © 2007 by John Merryweather Cooper. All Rights Reserved.

The Trip

Friday, May 4th, 2007

“I need you to appear before Judge Whaler in Blossom City Superior Court,” directed Blair. As the managing partner for the firm, his directives to an associate were like a general’s orders. “I’m representing the ‘Kiddie Ripper’ up there and I need you to appear at the status conference.”

“Let me guess, ‘Kiddie Ripper’s up for child rape,” replied Kevin with a hint of sarcasm. Maxim Law Offices had represented the ‘Kiddie Ripper’ for a long, long time. He paid his substantial retainer regularly, and in return Blair kept him off the S.O.L., the Sexual Offenders List, and out of jail. It also helped considerably that the “Kiddie Ripper” held powerful positions in both county government and the LDS Church. Up in the sparsely occupied North, he belonged to the untouchable class.

“Yes,” smirked Blair. “Seven counts of Child Rape One, seven counts of Kidnapping Two, and one hundred fifty-two counts of Possessing Child Porn,” he intoned. “Dave has already posted $10,000 cash bail for him, so he’s out. You just need to make sure he shows up and the trial is postponed until Dave can interview all the ‘witnesses’.” The firm’s in-house private investigator, Dave, a product of MI-6, was considerably more resourceful and lethal than his grandfatherly appearance would indicate.

“What time?”

“Morning Felony Docket, same bat-time, same bat-place.”

“Where do I find ‘Kiddie Ripper’?”

“He better be their on time–he’s first up. Otherwise, he gets his ass plastered all over The Tribune.”

“Cool.”

“Shelley has the file.”

Kevin has a long, six-hour drive to Blossom City, too far to manage the day of the hearing. Usually that didn’t matter, but a lot of trouble had been taken to shield “Kiddie Ripper” from the public and so time was of the essence. The Road would take him over, by a small ferry, Dead Presidio Lake, which was famed for its ice-blue deep color and its fantastic depth. Once upon a time, the Road, a rural, two-lane highway, ran straight across the wetlands over a causeway, but the Presidio had had the valley flooded to a depth of over a thousand feet. The span of water was way too vast for a bridge, and the perimeter of Dead Presidio Lake was way too lengthy to efficiently drive around. At least the ferry ride was free. He’d get started after lunch while the sun was still high in the sky. The docket would be the next day–Friday the Thirteenth.

Kevin surprised himself with the ease with which his wife Barbara “lent” him the 4Runner(tm). Usually, she insisted on keeping the SUV so that she could go around and gossip with her friends or go shopping at “Nordy’s.” Never mind that Kevin now earned every red cent the couple had. Barbara hadn’t been a wage-earning prosecutor in more than a year.  But she had said, “Sure, honey” with a smile. For some reason, her smile troubled Kevin greatly.

He piled the file, a fresh suit, and himself into the SUV and headed off. Kevin thought of the Road as a boring drive through endlessly flat, featureless terrain. Just like his damned life.

Kevin had just passed the point where the main county highway “Y’ed” off to the left and onto the Road. The Road here was an empty, featureless strech of two-lane blacktop, bordered on both sides by the stubble of harvested wheat as far as the eye could see. It ran all the way to Dead Presidio Lake like this with not a bend nor a dip to break the emptiness. Time for Kevin to think, always too much time was given to him to think on the Road.

In his mind, his marriage leapt first and foremost, unbidden. His greatest disaster was his marriage. His mind flinched, and he was aware of an almost imperceptible softening of the horizon above the Road. There was nothing unusual about this to him–there always existed a haze above Dead Presidio Lake. “Not a car in sight,” he reassured himself.

But Kevin’s marriage lay beyond consoling. Barbara was even more sadistic than her name implied. She existed only as a bundle of demands always to be satiated. She seldom offered anything of herself anymore. True, Kevin still passionately loved her. A love she returned with her fists and her vile wit, always ready to take advantage of a good man’s conditioning that striking a woman was worse than death. Just last night she had peppered his chest with her knotted fists. All this from his love because he “only” made $4,800 this month. “What does it take to make her happy, really happy?” he demanded of himself. He had no answer.

He hated being Blair’s errand-boy. Kevin had been a loyal associate of Maxim Law Offices for nearly three years now, and yet he still had only a part-time secretary and a tiny little office that used to be the cloakroom back when the building had been the biggest whorehouse in town. But that was the way of it: junior attorneys existed solely to provide “leverage” to senior attorneys so that the partners could rake in the money while the associates baked in all the work. “Strange,” Kevin observed to himself. “I haven’t seen any signs lately. I must have missed them.” He’d miss the work more. Another four years, at least, before he had any chance of making junior partner. Another four years of hell . . ..

It was then that Kevin noticed that the Road seemed to float on a sea–was is wheat or water? The Road didn’t reach the horizon; it slowly faded into the “sea.” Kevin felt himself slowing, the SUV slowing down. Accelerating did no good–the SUV simply kept slowing down on the Road.

But the 4Runner(tm) didn’t stop–Kevin would never stop–people depended on him and he was one to honor his commitments. He started to notice that it was getting a little hard to breath, and the heater seemed to have gone strangely cold, causing a chill to rush through the SUV.

It was getting still more difficult to breath, but Kevin was doggedly determined to reach his destination. He wouldn’t let mere physical discomforts stop him. He would cross over the road; nothing was going to stop him! Then black . . ..

DATELINE (Dead Presidio Lake)–Witnesses all report that they had never seen anything like it. A well-dressed man driving a dark green Toyota 4Runner(tm) drove right down the Road and off the ferry into the lake without the slightest hesitation. The Kennedy County Sheriff said that recovery of the SUV was “improbable” give the great depth of Lake Dead Presidio. No body has surfaced, and many locals have speculated that the mysterious driver had already passed through the spinning turbine blades and on to the sea.

DATELINE (Blossom County Superior Court)–The man known as the “Kiddie Ripper” implicated Judge Whaler in open court today as his accomplice in a child slavery and pornography ring that has apparently been operating inside a local church for more than thirty years. Judge Whaler, on hearing this, recused himself from further hearings in the matter, retired to his chambers, and discharged both barrels of a sawed-off 12 guage filled with water into his chest. Details at Eleven . . ..

Barbara was jubilant . . . with the payout of the ten million dollar policy Kevin had on his life, she was rich beyond her wildest dreams. Time to go to Nordy’s . . .

She would have to get rid of the dog though. She hated the dog, Kevin’s favorite named “Stengal.” The dog reminded her of the worthless man she had been married to. All that distasteful sex, the anniversaries he always “surprised” her with (she loathed such predictable shows of affection), and the simple love letters Kevin constantly wrote to her. Just like the rubbing, the excited pose, and those warm, brown eyes that gazed up at her every day.

She wouldn’t miss him. She grabbed her purse, made sure the credit cards were all in it, and prepared to “shop ’til she dropped,” as she liked to put it.

Copyright © 2007, 2008 by John Merryweather Cooper. All Rights Reserved.

Immigration and the Weakening of America

Tuesday, May 1st, 2007

From a recent “QuickVote” on CNN.com, I participated and obtained the following result:

Do you think the United States allows enough legal immigrants to live in the country?
Yes 86% 20962 votes
No 14% 3533 votes
Total: 24495 votes

This informal, thoroughly unscientific poll reveals that the overwhelming number of self-selected participants believe that the United States does allow enough legal immigrants to live in the country.

There’s just a few problems most of the “Yes” votes haven’t considered:

1) applying the standards for immigration they implicitly approve of, most of their ancestors would have been denied legal entry into this country;

2) if legal immigration is adequate to fill U.S. manpower needs, then why is illegal immigration at such sustained high levels?

My own family history is instructive. Before the Civil War, a certain Miss Hannah Thorpe, and her four children, were given a one-way ticket to America. Although she had several children, Miss Thorpe was unmarried. Her employment history consisted of being a household servant and mistress–not necessarily in that order. About the only things she would have going for her were:

1) she was not a carrier of a contagious disease;

2) she was Caucasian;

3) she was from the United Kingdom;

4) she spoke English.

Counting against her, she was:

1) obviously “immoral” since she had four children out of wedlock (“bastards” was the term at the time);

2) she had no obvious means of supporting herself (can you say “welfare queen”?);

3) she had minimal education and skills (what “use” is she).

Many of the “Yes” votes, if they were honest about their pasts would have even a more difficult time justifying entry.

Too much and too often, the immigration debate boils down to: “I got here first, you don’t look like me, you don’t worship my God, and I can exploit you better if I just make you into a criminal first.”

Wow, we’re certainly justified in excluding all those non-Caucasian, non-W.A.S.P., blue-collar-workers-we-want-to-pay less-than-minimum-wage to . . .