I occasionally have days that are very instructive in a wide range of areas. Today was such a day.
I learned that at least some people in my squadron think I’m a slacker and worse because I don’t deploy. Of course, I’m grounded and thus can’t deploy as aircrew, and I did try to deploy, for four months, to a damn war zone no less, earlier this year until that trip got cancelled. But that’s what some people think, and aren’t afraid to express.
To my great disappointment, I also learned that this matters to me. It should not matter to me in the slightest. Although I like most of my coworkers as coworkers, certainly there are wild personality and ideological conflicts between me and many of the people who work in my squadron, and I have no special need to consider the majority of these people friends. As long as we can work together, I’ve always thought, I could care less what people think of me—-as long as the higher-ups think I’m doing a decent job.
To my disgust, I learned that I can make rash statements on the basis of these peoples’ opinions that I will later come to regret (sometimes within the hour). I learned that I can be petty and immature for very little reason. These are not nice things to learn about yourself. Still, better to have learned than to remain in the dark. Knowledge is the first step to… what, fixing it? Yeah, I guess that’ll have to do.
It’s a simple matter. I know, in rational moments, that other peoples’ opinions of me aren’t worth the space they occupy in other peoples’ brains. But when I get emotional-—and I do get emotional, more now than I used to—-the rational part of my brain shuts down and I just want to hurt people. That’s not a very good thing.
I was doing so well, too—-I was going to be the bigger person, let the issue die, which it probably will anyway. But I let somebody else talk me into making something out of it—-a statement that, hey, you can’t screw up and blame me when it’s your fault. Because that’s how this whole issue started—-somebody screwed up, and blamed me. And they blamed me because I "don’t remember what it’s like" to deploy. I remember just fine. This person just needed a handy scapegoat. Had I focused on the scapegoating, it would have been appropriate to raise the issue above the level of petty interpersonal squabbling. But I couldn’t. I had to focus on what turns out to be a really super-emotional issue for me, namely, people looking down on me because I don’t deploy any more. I’ve always been afraid that would happen. I try to run my shop with the attitude of, hey, we know what it’s like to deploy here, so we’re going to do everything we can to make your lives easier while you do it. But apparently, that’s either not the message that comes across, or people just want their hands held.
No matter. I got so riled up by the personal insult I stopped thinking straight and decided to make an issue out of it. I think the other people I got involved are understanding enough to recognize that I was out of sorts, and will respect my desire to retract my statement and handle the matter on a personal level… but I feel my reputation with the people who matter, or with one of them at any rate, has been sullied by the whole affair.
What I should have done is left. There’s no reason to sit around and stew in your own juices. I could have gone to the gym, left for an early lunch, or just come home and distracted myself until I calmed down. That’s standard anger management (I know, I've been to the class)—-the issue will still be there, but once the emotion has died down I can handle it much more maturely. What a pity I followed my baser, rather than my better, instincts.
Of course, if I wasn't under this absurd stress of being kept utterly in the dark about my future, I probably would have handled this better. I have much less patience these days than I used to--and I've never had an especially long fuse.
But there is hope! You see, I also learned… well, I’m not sure if what I learned qualifies as actual learning or just hope. But I did get some hope, so much so that if I stop kicking myself over the previous issue I might actually get a decent night’s sleep. They’re working on a "waiver."
By "they" of course I mean the Air Force. The waiver would be to release me from my service commitment. If "they" are working on a "waiver," that’s… well, I admit it’s pretty ambiguous ("working" can mean a lot), but it is so much less ambiguous than not having heard anything at all for seven months! I can’t describe the joy and pleasure this little piece of knowledge brings me!
And it might get better! It seems the window has closed for wrapping me up into "force shaping" (the Air Force is shrinking this year; we call it "force shaping" the same way getting fired is referred to as "downsizing"), so my commander asked if perhaps they could see fit to keep me through the end of this calendar year.
Why would I want to stay in so long? Aside from the additional few months of paycheck (always a plus), there has arisen a fascinating opportunity in a country far, far away, much like the opportunity I thought I had earlier this year, only not in the middle of a civil war. How exciting! I could deploy again! I would feel less… leechlike, I suppose, if I could deploy again before I left.
Plus, I’d be getting out in December, rather than in September. In September almost everyone in the squadron, including the majority of the people I actually like (but not, of course, my new least favorite person), will be gone one place or another. But in December I’ll be able to say goodbye to the people I actually want to say goodbye to. How nice. I should like a nice going away lunch at a place like The Green Iguana, or better yet Sonny’s Barbeque (c’mon, how can you not go to a going-away lunch when it’s at Sonny’s?), where everybody can sit around and talk and laugh and not pay a whit of attention to me except for like two or three minutes when I say, gosh, you people sure are cool but I’m not going to miss this job one bit! I look forward to that.
Of course, there’s no telling if this will actually come to pass. But it feels so much more… more… words fail me. It feels less like I’ve been utterly forgotten by the Air Force and may be left to languish at the squadron for another decade. And that feels wonderful.
I learned other things today, too. It’s easier to slice turkey sausage when it’s frozen. Red wine after white is better than white wine after red. It’s impossible to get all the sauce out of a bottle of Bertolli pasta sauce (who makes a freakin' square bottle?). It isn’t necessary to maintain full insurance coverage on your car in Florida once you’ve paid it off. And there’s a chance I could catch a trip (as a passenger) ten days from now that would give me a night in Okinawa, where I could visit my friend Fiesterville. How cool would that be? We only haven’t seen each other in, what, a year?
Yes, it was an instructive day all around. I wonder how much of it I’ll remember tomorrow?
26 April 2006
24 April 2006
Polling
Another poll today, this one from the American Research Group, gives El Arbusto the lowest marks of his presidency. This isn't really news except that the writeup I read intrigued me enough that I read the actual poll. (Incidentally, ARG posts the actual wording they used in the poll, if you've ever wondered how they get their information.) The writeup indicated that 83% of Americans base their opinion of the national economy on gas prices.
This isn't really fair. Gas prices are not the national economy. Gas prices have a big effect on your personal economy (certainly on mine), and they can have an effect on the national economy just as surely. But they're a potential cause of a weakening economy, not a sign of an already poor economy.
I haven't really studied a poll in long while. This one was interesting. 22% of Republicans disapprove of Bush's leadership; that's high for this president. At the same time only 26% of Independents approve of him; this, combined with a whopping 7% of Democrats who approve (I doubt any of them will show up at Drinking Liberally this Thursday night), is why his overall approval rating is so crappy (only 34%). (If you're curious, on the rare occasion I get called for a poll I always report my party ID as independent.)
Bush's marks on the economy are lower than his overall marks by a few points. This is interesting because if anything the national economy is going better than the Iraq war. However, although economists and White House apparatchiks will tell you that the economy is doing great (although the last two months' numbers indicate potential weakness in the near future), it's interesting to see that Americans by and large do not think the economy is doing very well at all.
67% of people said the economy was either bad, very bad, or terrible, and 58% of people said it was getting worse. 60% thought the economy a year from now would be worse than it is today. More than half of people think we're in the tubes and getting worse, though the economy is actually at worst mediocre (with structural deficiencies that will come back to bite us by year's end like stagnant wage growth). Similar situations in the past caused Jimmy Carter to complain of a "national malaise" and Bill Clinton to say that the country was "in a funk." Bush should be credited for not coming up with a cute phrase, since they always make things worse. Among the 60% of people who disapprove of Bush's job performance, 96% said the economy was either bad, very bad, or terrible.
Remember when Bill Clinton said, "It's the economy, stupid?" Even in the midst of a shooting war, it's still true.
The problem with asking people what they think, of course, is that many of them don't think at all. 37% of Americans said the economy was either very bad or terrible, but only 30% said we were in a recession. If "very bad" is not a recession, then exactly what was the Great Depression? The scale stops before it gets to "throw yourself out the window."
Here's another funny thing. Only 31% of Americans said the economy was good or better, but 52% said their household financial situation was good or better. Of course part of this may be that people whose household finances are "terrible" probably don't answer the phone. However, although we're overall bullish on our own financial situation, 57% of us say our finances are getting worse. 44% of us think our finances will be worse a year from now.
As for me, my finances are fine now but will be worse a year from now, I don't approve of Bush's handling of the economy or his job, I don't think we're in a recession, and think the economy is overall getting worse. But they didn't call me.
This isn't really fair. Gas prices are not the national economy. Gas prices have a big effect on your personal economy (certainly on mine), and they can have an effect on the national economy just as surely. But they're a potential cause of a weakening economy, not a sign of an already poor economy.
I haven't really studied a poll in long while. This one was interesting. 22% of Republicans disapprove of Bush's leadership; that's high for this president. At the same time only 26% of Independents approve of him; this, combined with a whopping 7% of Democrats who approve (I doubt any of them will show up at Drinking Liberally this Thursday night), is why his overall approval rating is so crappy (only 34%). (If you're curious, on the rare occasion I get called for a poll I always report my party ID as independent.)
Bush's marks on the economy are lower than his overall marks by a few points. This is interesting because if anything the national economy is going better than the Iraq war. However, although economists and White House apparatchiks will tell you that the economy is doing great (although the last two months' numbers indicate potential weakness in the near future), it's interesting to see that Americans by and large do not think the economy is doing very well at all.
67% of people said the economy was either bad, very bad, or terrible, and 58% of people said it was getting worse. 60% thought the economy a year from now would be worse than it is today. More than half of people think we're in the tubes and getting worse, though the economy is actually at worst mediocre (with structural deficiencies that will come back to bite us by year's end like stagnant wage growth). Similar situations in the past caused Jimmy Carter to complain of a "national malaise" and Bill Clinton to say that the country was "in a funk." Bush should be credited for not coming up with a cute phrase, since they always make things worse. Among the 60% of people who disapprove of Bush's job performance, 96% said the economy was either bad, very bad, or terrible.
Remember when Bill Clinton said, "It's the economy, stupid?" Even in the midst of a shooting war, it's still true.
The problem with asking people what they think, of course, is that many of them don't think at all. 37% of Americans said the economy was either very bad or terrible, but only 30% said we were in a recession. If "very bad" is not a recession, then exactly what was the Great Depression? The scale stops before it gets to "throw yourself out the window."
Here's another funny thing. Only 31% of Americans said the economy was good or better, but 52% said their household financial situation was good or better. Of course part of this may be that people whose household finances are "terrible" probably don't answer the phone. However, although we're overall bullish on our own financial situation, 57% of us say our finances are getting worse. 44% of us think our finances will be worse a year from now.
As for me, my finances are fine now but will be worse a year from now, I don't approve of Bush's handling of the economy or his job, I don't think we're in a recession, and think the economy is overall getting worse. But they didn't call me.
23 April 2006
Krazy Kat's Corky Coverup
Let me get this straight. She goes to dinner with a lobbyist at a restaurant where the average meal costs more than she is legally allowed to accept as a gift. And she doesn’t pay. And she calls it an “oversight.”
Then she donates $100 to charity (check out the writeup on the charity) to make up for the “beverage and appetizers” that she ate. So she’s chalking up $2700 worth of food and wine to the lobbyist she dined with. This being a person who, she said, walked out of the restaurant with several bottles of uncorked wine, which the restaurant claims they wouldn’t let happen.
You know, it's not a question of exactly which parts of her story are a lie any more. It a question of whether any part of her story is ever true.
Then she donates $100 to charity (check out the writeup on the charity) to make up for the “beverage and appetizers” that she ate. So she’s chalking up $2700 worth of food and wine to the lobbyist she dined with. This being a person who, she said, walked out of the restaurant with several bottles of uncorked wine, which the restaurant claims they wouldn’t let happen.
You know, it's not a question of exactly which parts of her story are a lie any more. It a question of whether any part of her story is ever true.
21 April 2006
The King of Crapulence?
A couple weeks ago I posted a ranking of 20th Century presidents. Nixon came in at the bottom, and at the time I wrote that given current trends the current White Hoser would end up in the bottom third.
Today I read an article in Rolling Stone by a historian who thinks we might be seeing the worst of all time at work.
I don’t know if I’d go that far. I mean, I really don’t; I don’t have any reason one way or the other, I just… it seems early to hang “worst of all time” on somebody when he’s got over two years left. And it seems a little harsh to describe someone’s position in the light of history when the end of his term is still in the future. Still, this is a very interesting article, and apparently free! It’s worth a read.
Today I read an article in Rolling Stone by a historian who thinks we might be seeing the worst of all time at work.
I don’t know if I’d go that far. I mean, I really don’t; I don’t have any reason one way or the other, I just… it seems early to hang “worst of all time” on somebody when he’s got over two years left. And it seems a little harsh to describe someone’s position in the light of history when the end of his term is still in the future. Still, this is a very interesting article, and apparently free! It’s worth a read.
20 April 2006
A Political Rant
I was going to title this, "Why I'm not a Republican Any More," but it went further than that.
My political outlook has changed little in the past decade. I’ve gone a little more green, but I’m still a fiscally conservative/socially libertarian/states’ rights/small government/foreign policy activist with an environmentalist streak. There is no political party that encompasses these views, or even tries to, and at times it’s almost enough to make me stay home on election day (which I will never, ever do).
In college I was a Republican, because I was registered to vote in Clay County, Florida, the most Republican county in the state and a place where all local and legislative offices were decided in the GOP primary. Also, my parents were Republicans. And, I was reading a lot of PJ O’Rourke at the time and he hadn’t yet admitted he was really a libertarian at heart (this was the era of Republican Party Reptile).
But even then I was a half-hearted Republican. I called myself conservative then because the people in power who called themselves conservatives still pretended to give a darn about fiscal responsibility; this they no longer do. I didn’t join the College Republicans. I worked at the official campus newspaper, and made fun of the upstart conservative one (which is still worth making fun of). I didn’t even join my local church like a good little conservative, because the pastor there, during my freshman year, complained to the media that the Carolina Panthers, who were playing home games in Clemson’s Death Valley that fall while Ericsson Stadium was built, should give money to all the local congregations because of the decreased donations from people staying home to tailgate for the football games instead of going to church. Never said a word about the souls that weren’t saved or the good news that wasn’t spread; no, it was about the money that wasn’t collected. I’ve never met a pastor who has so lost his way.
I didn’t even vote for Bob Dole in 1996 (it was a Harry Browne year). By 2000 I was working for the Democratic Party. I didn’t win the race I was managing, but I was drawing a paycheck. At this point I was still a registered Republican—because I was still registered in Clay County (which is now only the second-most Republican county in the state, thank you very much Santa Rosa). But I didn’t vote for Al Gore for President that year (I was one of those horrible Nader voters the Gore camp kept complaining about. No matter. Al Gore is a better person for having lost in 2000; I maintain he would have been a lousy president, though whether lousier than the current louse we will never know).
When I moved to Tampa in 2003 I registered as a Democrat for the first time—again out of necessity, because I now live in a very Democratic district. If I had my choice I’d register without party affiliation, but state law makes that foolish. And yes, in 2004 I did vote for John Kerry, who I think was a terrible candidate and would make a dreadful president. But I also think he might have been just a wee bit less dreadful than the alternative. This was the first time I had voted for a major party candidate for President, and I felt dirty doing it because I knew I wouldn’t be happy with either man.
The one time I’ve ever been really happy with a major-party candidate for President was in 2000, when John McCain raised my hopes that someone with some actual balls, and sense, might have a chance. And he did have a chance, until Karl Rove and his team of miscreants smeared him in South Carolina: Bush supporters suggested McCain’s adopted Bangladeshi daughter was actually his illegitimate black child, distributed flyers at South Carolina churches calling McCain “the fag candidate,” claimed that Cindy McCain was a drug addict, suggested that his time in a North Vietnamese prison had actually driven him insane, made suggestions that McCain had committed treasonous acts while a POW (while Bush was safe at home, ready to act in case the Viet Cong came swarming across the Rio Grande), and called McCain a “Manchurian candidate” who had collaborated with the North Vietnamese and was recruited by the Soviets (this last was accomplished by one Ted Sampley, who was the driving force behind the SwiftVets campaign against Kerry last year). Had Bush and his cronies not signed off on this blatant filthmongering, McCain would very likely have been elected President in 2000. (If you’re wondering where my animosity towards Bush comes from, this list of lies is a good place to start. Why do so many military personnel like him, given the things he’s said about a decorated military officer and POW in the past simply to gain political power? What blinders are my colleagues wearing that they trust one word that comes out of his mouth? I’ve always wondered.)
But that’s another matter. McCain looks likely to run in 2008 and I should be thrilled about that, right? I should be. But I’m not. While I still think he’s likely the best of batch of potential candidates in either party, I don’t share the same devotion that led me to send him over $1000 during the course of 2000 campaign. It’s because of Republicans.
He has to win a GOP primary. This means he has to appear more “conservative,” by the narrow definition of the activist right wing of his party. Just this year he has come out in favor of making the Bush tax cuts permanent (the OMB’s budget projections, which show a continuing deficit as far as the eye can see, assume the tax cuts will lapse), agreed to address the graduating class at Liberty University (Jerry Falwell’s “college” and just a step shy of Bob Jones U), and changed his mind on Roe v Wade (from not supporting its repeal to supporting a nationwide abortion ban).
I certainly don’t think people can’t change their minds; I expect them to, and I hate it when people (frequently Republicans, I’ve noticed, but then only because Democrats don’t have any values to start with) accuse a politician of “flip-flopping” or “waffling” for changing his or her mind on a topic—especially when the change occurred years ago; we are none of us the same person we were five years ago, nor should we wish to be. But it was the positions he took in 2000 that made independents like me support his campaign with our votes and our dollars. For me, the worst was his strong support of Bush’s 2004 campaign. He could have just kept his mouth shut, instead of standing by his man all autumn while the same person who fabricated lies about him in 2000 did the same to John Kerry. I’m sorry, but that strikes me as a total lack of character; to me, McCain’s late 2004 activities were about expediency and making friends with GOP stalwarts and not about principles at all.
I’m not a fool. I know that John McCain is far more conservative than I am, and I knew he was in 2000. I can forgive a politician a lot of faults in ideology if I believe his character and judgment are above reproach. I believed that about John McCain in 2000. I’m not so sure I believe it now.
And I really think it’s partisan politics, especially in the GOP (remember, the Democrats don’t know what their values are so they’re not nearly as prone to attacking each other’s positions), that has caused this diminution in character. Examine Rudy Giuliani, another potential 2008 candidate (though he seems less certain about this than McCain does). Giuliani is as socially liberal (read: tolerant, because that’s what I mean when I say “liberal”) a Republican as exists in this country. The GOP likes him, because he is extremely popular—and he’s popular not just as the very public face of New York after the 9/11 disaster, but for the turnaround he engineered in the city in 1990s. But he’s also a social liberal, and while there are apparently still social liberals in the GOP, right-wing activists and primary voters demand unyielding social conservatism in their candidates. Giuliani has a lot of backtracking to do. He’s been doing it lately, stumping yesterday for Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum, one of the most socially conservative members of the Senate, and later this week working a fundraiser for Ralph Reed, former head of the Christian Coalition and noted FOA (Friend of Abramoff). Why? What does he have in common with these gentlemen? Giuliani’s popularity in the GOP stems from his stands on things like terrorism, the Iraq war, and foreign policy. Reed doesn’t deal with any of those things, and Giuliani as president would have nothing to do with Reed as lieutenant governor of Georgia. Do they need each other’s support? Does anyone need Ralph Reed’s support right now, given his scandal-plagued campaign? Giuliani must show the right wing that he is one of them; there is no other possible reason for his support for Reed (the two are not personal friends, which would explain it).
Again I come back to the way partisanship seems to eat away at a man’s principles the longer he stays in government or the higher he tries to rise in it. It’s time to start over with new parties, and more of them.
My political outlook has changed little in the past decade. I’ve gone a little more green, but I’m still a fiscally conservative/socially libertarian/states’ rights/small government/foreign policy activist with an environmentalist streak. There is no political party that encompasses these views, or even tries to, and at times it’s almost enough to make me stay home on election day (which I will never, ever do).
In college I was a Republican, because I was registered to vote in Clay County, Florida, the most Republican county in the state and a place where all local and legislative offices were decided in the GOP primary. Also, my parents were Republicans. And, I was reading a lot of PJ O’Rourke at the time and he hadn’t yet admitted he was really a libertarian at heart (this was the era of Republican Party Reptile).
But even then I was a half-hearted Republican. I called myself conservative then because the people in power who called themselves conservatives still pretended to give a darn about fiscal responsibility; this they no longer do. I didn’t join the College Republicans. I worked at the official campus newspaper, and made fun of the upstart conservative one (which is still worth making fun of). I didn’t even join my local church like a good little conservative, because the pastor there, during my freshman year, complained to the media that the Carolina Panthers, who were playing home games in Clemson’s Death Valley that fall while Ericsson Stadium was built, should give money to all the local congregations because of the decreased donations from people staying home to tailgate for the football games instead of going to church. Never said a word about the souls that weren’t saved or the good news that wasn’t spread; no, it was about the money that wasn’t collected. I’ve never met a pastor who has so lost his way.
I didn’t even vote for Bob Dole in 1996 (it was a Harry Browne year). By 2000 I was working for the Democratic Party. I didn’t win the race I was managing, but I was drawing a paycheck. At this point I was still a registered Republican—because I was still registered in Clay County (which is now only the second-most Republican county in the state, thank you very much Santa Rosa). But I didn’t vote for Al Gore for President that year (I was one of those horrible Nader voters the Gore camp kept complaining about. No matter. Al Gore is a better person for having lost in 2000; I maintain he would have been a lousy president, though whether lousier than the current louse we will never know).
When I moved to Tampa in 2003 I registered as a Democrat for the first time—again out of necessity, because I now live in a very Democratic district. If I had my choice I’d register without party affiliation, but state law makes that foolish. And yes, in 2004 I did vote for John Kerry, who I think was a terrible candidate and would make a dreadful president. But I also think he might have been just a wee bit less dreadful than the alternative. This was the first time I had voted for a major party candidate for President, and I felt dirty doing it because I knew I wouldn’t be happy with either man.
The one time I’ve ever been really happy with a major-party candidate for President was in 2000, when John McCain raised my hopes that someone with some actual balls, and sense, might have a chance. And he did have a chance, until Karl Rove and his team of miscreants smeared him in South Carolina: Bush supporters suggested McCain’s adopted Bangladeshi daughter was actually his illegitimate black child, distributed flyers at South Carolina churches calling McCain “the fag candidate,” claimed that Cindy McCain was a drug addict, suggested that his time in a North Vietnamese prison had actually driven him insane, made suggestions that McCain had committed treasonous acts while a POW (while Bush was safe at home, ready to act in case the Viet Cong came swarming across the Rio Grande), and called McCain a “Manchurian candidate” who had collaborated with the North Vietnamese and was recruited by the Soviets (this last was accomplished by one Ted Sampley, who was the driving force behind the SwiftVets campaign against Kerry last year). Had Bush and his cronies not signed off on this blatant filthmongering, McCain would very likely have been elected President in 2000. (If you’re wondering where my animosity towards Bush comes from, this list of lies is a good place to start. Why do so many military personnel like him, given the things he’s said about a decorated military officer and POW in the past simply to gain political power? What blinders are my colleagues wearing that they trust one word that comes out of his mouth? I’ve always wondered.)
But that’s another matter. McCain looks likely to run in 2008 and I should be thrilled about that, right? I should be. But I’m not. While I still think he’s likely the best of batch of potential candidates in either party, I don’t share the same devotion that led me to send him over $1000 during the course of 2000 campaign. It’s because of Republicans.
He has to win a GOP primary. This means he has to appear more “conservative,” by the narrow definition of the activist right wing of his party. Just this year he has come out in favor of making the Bush tax cuts permanent (the OMB’s budget projections, which show a continuing deficit as far as the eye can see, assume the tax cuts will lapse), agreed to address the graduating class at Liberty University (Jerry Falwell’s “college” and just a step shy of Bob Jones U), and changed his mind on Roe v Wade (from not supporting its repeal to supporting a nationwide abortion ban).
I certainly don’t think people can’t change their minds; I expect them to, and I hate it when people (frequently Republicans, I’ve noticed, but then only because Democrats don’t have any values to start with) accuse a politician of “flip-flopping” or “waffling” for changing his or her mind on a topic—especially when the change occurred years ago; we are none of us the same person we were five years ago, nor should we wish to be. But it was the positions he took in 2000 that made independents like me support his campaign with our votes and our dollars. For me, the worst was his strong support of Bush’s 2004 campaign. He could have just kept his mouth shut, instead of standing by his man all autumn while the same person who fabricated lies about him in 2000 did the same to John Kerry. I’m sorry, but that strikes me as a total lack of character; to me, McCain’s late 2004 activities were about expediency and making friends with GOP stalwarts and not about principles at all.
I’m not a fool. I know that John McCain is far more conservative than I am, and I knew he was in 2000. I can forgive a politician a lot of faults in ideology if I believe his character and judgment are above reproach. I believed that about John McCain in 2000. I’m not so sure I believe it now.
And I really think it’s partisan politics, especially in the GOP (remember, the Democrats don’t know what their values are so they’re not nearly as prone to attacking each other’s positions), that has caused this diminution in character. Examine Rudy Giuliani, another potential 2008 candidate (though he seems less certain about this than McCain does). Giuliani is as socially liberal (read: tolerant, because that’s what I mean when I say “liberal”) a Republican as exists in this country. The GOP likes him, because he is extremely popular—and he’s popular not just as the very public face of New York after the 9/11 disaster, but for the turnaround he engineered in the city in 1990s. But he’s also a social liberal, and while there are apparently still social liberals in the GOP, right-wing activists and primary voters demand unyielding social conservatism in their candidates. Giuliani has a lot of backtracking to do. He’s been doing it lately, stumping yesterday for Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum, one of the most socially conservative members of the Senate, and later this week working a fundraiser for Ralph Reed, former head of the Christian Coalition and noted FOA (Friend of Abramoff). Why? What does he have in common with these gentlemen? Giuliani’s popularity in the GOP stems from his stands on things like terrorism, the Iraq war, and foreign policy. Reed doesn’t deal with any of those things, and Giuliani as president would have nothing to do with Reed as lieutenant governor of Georgia. Do they need each other’s support? Does anyone need Ralph Reed’s support right now, given his scandal-plagued campaign? Giuliani must show the right wing that he is one of them; there is no other possible reason for his support for Reed (the two are not personal friends, which would explain it).
Again I come back to the way partisanship seems to eat away at a man’s principles the longer he stays in government or the higher he tries to rise in it. It’s time to start over with new parties, and more of them.
17 April 2006
Rumsfeld is Not the Problem
So, what with all these calls going on for Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld to resign, I bet you’re wondering what regular folks in the military think. Well, I’m gonna tell you.
I don’t have any idea. Neither does anybody I work with. The SECDEF is so far above our heads it’s hard for us to know what he does and what he doesn’t do. Four years ago I’d have told you he was exactly the person the DOD needed, and I still believe that’s true—he was exactly the person the DOD needed at that time, to be the public face of the department. Few people in Washington so successfully handled the press, especially regarding the sensitive matters of terrorism, war, and national defense.
There’s the matter of the planning for the Iraq war, which was clearly bungled. But was it bungled solely by Rumsfeld? I certainly can’t believe it was; it surely took more than one mind to half-ass the occupation so completely. As the Secretary, of course, the buck stops with him—but one of the guiltiest of the guilty, Deputy Secretary Paul Wolfowitz, is now running the World Bank (doing a decent job so far, too, to my unending surprise) and hence not around to be sacked.
The fact is, the generals are complaining about things that happened three years ago. Many of them are complaining now because they’re retired and can complain; we are prevented by the Uniform Code of Military Justice from saying anything negative about the civilian leadership of the military (the Prez, VP, and SECDEF primarily) in any official capacity. The last general to try that, Billy Mitchell, was court-martialed in the 1920s (and though vilified by many pundits at the time, last week we had a columnist for the Chicago Sun-Times (Tom Lipscomb) lionizing his decision to accept a court-martial rather than accept government policies he disagreed with and blaming Gen. Anthony Zinni for not doing likewise himself).
Still, complaints about the SECDEF from retired generals who were actually running the war they’re complaining about carry infinitely more weight than complaints from the hoi polloi—and intelligent and traveled as Lipscomb is, he’s still the hoi polloi when it comes to military matters. Regardless of what anyone outside this world thinks, if these people believe Rumsfeld is at fault for something, their complaints merit serious discussion, not partisan vitriol.
Some reports indicate that the animosity goes back to the way former Army Chief of Staff Gen. Eric Shinseki was treated by the DOD after declaring that the number of troops required for an invasion and occupation would be significantly higher than the administration was asking for; the genius John Kerry implied in his 2004 campaign that Shinseki was pushed out for disagreeing with the civilian leadership. In fact, Shinseki served out his full term and retired on schedule. There is no question that his relationship with Rumsfeld et al was frosty. Shinseki was responsible for the decision to make the standard headgear for all soldiers the black beret (previously available only to special ops forces), for which he was roundly criticized throughout the civilian and military worlds. Still, Shinseki is widely respected inside the Army, but it seems unlikely that any lingering Rumsfeld/Shinseki enmity is behind the complaints. It’s worth noting Shinseki has been quiet, although he is already on record as saying the Iraq invasion would require far more troops.
I haven’t examined the generals’ comments in detail. If they are implying that Rumsfeld was dictating military strategy and tactics to military leaders in the field, rather than simply giving them the mission and the leeway to accomplish it, then yes, he should resign. That’s Vietnam-era foolishness, the idea of the Executive Branch sitting around picking targets and defining operations. If it’s going on today it must be stopped immediately.
On the other hand, if they are simply arguing that he didn’t give them (or other military leaders) the necessary manpower and materiel to conduct the war, then there’s more room for debate. There’s no question—at least, not outside the right-wing punditry and blogosphere—but that the invasion and occupation of Iraq has not gone according to plan and could have been done much better. The Economist recently ran an interesting article detailing the cost of the war thus far and the potential costs of continued containment, which shows that ultimately the difference may be close to nil. But they fail to consider what the costs might have been of running the war more effectively, of planning for (even if not expecting) a drawn-out insurgency, a brief period of anarchy, sectarian tensions, and the like, and running the war accordingly.
Rumsfeld reportedly offered to resign during the Abu Ghraib scandals. Rumsfeld is not alone complicit, since Abu Ghraib we’ve learned was the not result of any direct order, but rather a culture of permissiveness, a culture that seeped down from the White House itself. Rumsfeld at that point would merely have been a sacrificial lamb, but his departure would not have changed the culture.
And that, I think, is important in the current debate. Will Rumsfeld’s departure change the culture in the Executive Branch? With him gone, will the President finally be able to admit the occupation was botched? When he is out of the way, will everything suddenly become hunky-dory? I don’t think so.
The fact is, there is an individual at the top of the food chain who keeps his friends close and everyone else as far away as possible. His much-vaunted staff-shakeup has consisted in accepting the resignation of one close friend and promoting an even closer, older friend into the same job. The White House today is a closed information loop. If somebody already inside doesn’t think of something, it doesn’t get thought of. The problem is that the people inside all think exactly alike, because that’s the way the President wants it. Getting rid of Rumsfeld may satisfy a desire on the part of some individuals to have someone pay for the mismanagement of the Iraq war. But retribution is a dead-end street; genuine change is going to take a complete personnel turnover. Barring impeachment proceedings (which, let’s not forget, would only put Cheney into the White House, who would little improve the atmosphere there), we’re just going to have to wait for 2009.
I don’t have any idea. Neither does anybody I work with. The SECDEF is so far above our heads it’s hard for us to know what he does and what he doesn’t do. Four years ago I’d have told you he was exactly the person the DOD needed, and I still believe that’s true—he was exactly the person the DOD needed at that time, to be the public face of the department. Few people in Washington so successfully handled the press, especially regarding the sensitive matters of terrorism, war, and national defense.
There’s the matter of the planning for the Iraq war, which was clearly bungled. But was it bungled solely by Rumsfeld? I certainly can’t believe it was; it surely took more than one mind to half-ass the occupation so completely. As the Secretary, of course, the buck stops with him—but one of the guiltiest of the guilty, Deputy Secretary Paul Wolfowitz, is now running the World Bank (doing a decent job so far, too, to my unending surprise) and hence not around to be sacked.
The fact is, the generals are complaining about things that happened three years ago. Many of them are complaining now because they’re retired and can complain; we are prevented by the Uniform Code of Military Justice from saying anything negative about the civilian leadership of the military (the Prez, VP, and SECDEF primarily) in any official capacity. The last general to try that, Billy Mitchell, was court-martialed in the 1920s (and though vilified by many pundits at the time, last week we had a columnist for the Chicago Sun-Times (Tom Lipscomb) lionizing his decision to accept a court-martial rather than accept government policies he disagreed with and blaming Gen. Anthony Zinni for not doing likewise himself).
Still, complaints about the SECDEF from retired generals who were actually running the war they’re complaining about carry infinitely more weight than complaints from the hoi polloi—and intelligent and traveled as Lipscomb is, he’s still the hoi polloi when it comes to military matters. Regardless of what anyone outside this world thinks, if these people believe Rumsfeld is at fault for something, their complaints merit serious discussion, not partisan vitriol.
Some reports indicate that the animosity goes back to the way former Army Chief of Staff Gen. Eric Shinseki was treated by the DOD after declaring that the number of troops required for an invasion and occupation would be significantly higher than the administration was asking for; the genius John Kerry implied in his 2004 campaign that Shinseki was pushed out for disagreeing with the civilian leadership. In fact, Shinseki served out his full term and retired on schedule. There is no question that his relationship with Rumsfeld et al was frosty. Shinseki was responsible for the decision to make the standard headgear for all soldiers the black beret (previously available only to special ops forces), for which he was roundly criticized throughout the civilian and military worlds. Still, Shinseki is widely respected inside the Army, but it seems unlikely that any lingering Rumsfeld/Shinseki enmity is behind the complaints. It’s worth noting Shinseki has been quiet, although he is already on record as saying the Iraq invasion would require far more troops.
I haven’t examined the generals’ comments in detail. If they are implying that Rumsfeld was dictating military strategy and tactics to military leaders in the field, rather than simply giving them the mission and the leeway to accomplish it, then yes, he should resign. That’s Vietnam-era foolishness, the idea of the Executive Branch sitting around picking targets and defining operations. If it’s going on today it must be stopped immediately.
On the other hand, if they are simply arguing that he didn’t give them (or other military leaders) the necessary manpower and materiel to conduct the war, then there’s more room for debate. There’s no question—at least, not outside the right-wing punditry and blogosphere—but that the invasion and occupation of Iraq has not gone according to plan and could have been done much better. The Economist recently ran an interesting article detailing the cost of the war thus far and the potential costs of continued containment, which shows that ultimately the difference may be close to nil. But they fail to consider what the costs might have been of running the war more effectively, of planning for (even if not expecting) a drawn-out insurgency, a brief period of anarchy, sectarian tensions, and the like, and running the war accordingly.
Rumsfeld reportedly offered to resign during the Abu Ghraib scandals. Rumsfeld is not alone complicit, since Abu Ghraib we’ve learned was the not result of any direct order, but rather a culture of permissiveness, a culture that seeped down from the White House itself. Rumsfeld at that point would merely have been a sacrificial lamb, but his departure would not have changed the culture.
And that, I think, is important in the current debate. Will Rumsfeld’s departure change the culture in the Executive Branch? With him gone, will the President finally be able to admit the occupation was botched? When he is out of the way, will everything suddenly become hunky-dory? I don’t think so.
The fact is, there is an individual at the top of the food chain who keeps his friends close and everyone else as far away as possible. His much-vaunted staff-shakeup has consisted in accepting the resignation of one close friend and promoting an even closer, older friend into the same job. The White House today is a closed information loop. If somebody already inside doesn’t think of something, it doesn’t get thought of. The problem is that the people inside all think exactly alike, because that’s the way the President wants it. Getting rid of Rumsfeld may satisfy a desire on the part of some individuals to have someone pay for the mismanagement of the Iraq war. But retribution is a dead-end street; genuine change is going to take a complete personnel turnover. Barring impeachment proceedings (which, let’s not forget, would only put Cheney into the White House, who would little improve the atmosphere there), we’re just going to have to wait for 2009.
16 April 2006
Yes. I'm serious.
Okay, so, we all know Abramoff Buddy and all-around slimeball Tom DeLay, who has resigned from his House seat under a cloud of suspicion and multiple indictments (though of course that had nothing to do with why he resigned, no), but who (surprise, surprise) the White House has repeatedly claimed is innocent of charges (charges that, of course, the White House wouldn't know anything about).
Well, it just gets better. The chief of the Office of Management and the Budget, Josh Bolten, recently stepped up to become Chief of Staff. And who is on the shortlist to replace Bolten?
Tom DeLay! Of course he is! You may recall that DeLay announced last year that the federal budget was as small as it could possibly be. Yeah. He said that. And now this man is on the short-list to become the head budget estimator and manager for the entire Executive Branch. In the administration that has produced the largest deficits in history.
Mm-hmm. We actually have to put up with these clowns for another two years and nine months. I hope the country can handle it.
Well, it just gets better. The chief of the Office of Management and the Budget, Josh Bolten, recently stepped up to become Chief of Staff. And who is on the shortlist to replace Bolten?
Tom DeLay! Of course he is! You may recall that DeLay announced last year that the federal budget was as small as it could possibly be. Yeah. He said that. And now this man is on the short-list to become the head budget estimator and manager for the entire Executive Branch. In the administration that has produced the largest deficits in history.
Mm-hmm. We actually have to put up with these clowns for another two years and nine months. I hope the country can handle it.
13 April 2006
An Interesting Comparison
As my friend Lucky Bob mentions, I recently took in a viewing of V for Vendetta, and I enjoyed it a great deal. I highly recommend going to see it, and now I want to go buy a copy of the graphic novel on which it's based (and which no doubt now sells for twice the previous going rate). As I've mentioned before I like dystopian fiction and this one's a doozy, primarily as it's so realistic.
Of course my favorite line from it is, "People should not be afraid of their government; governments should be afraid of their people." This is a nice summation of my general belief about government and its virtues.
Thus when I saw this quote yesterday from one of our Supreme Court Justices (Justice Scalia):
This is in relation to a tired argument that Scalia should have recused himself from a case involving Dick Cheney, with whom he occasionally goes hunting (insert joke here (it isn't hard)). Frankly I never got all that worked up about, nor do I think I could have.
And then I thought, gosh, why should I trust my Supreme Court Justice enough to let him rule on a case involving his friend? I mean, I didn't appoint him to the seat. I didn't vote for the man who did appoint him to the seat. In fact, I didn't vote, nor have I ever voted, for any of the people who voted to confirm him to that seat (I had a chance in 1996 to vote for Bob Dole, but I punched the ticket for Harry Browne that year). He was, in fact, in grade school when my parents were born. He's been in his job for longer than I've been able to drive, and nothing short of the eternal solitude of the grave can remove him from that job.
His lengthy stay in office has brought to him connections to many people, many people of whom I, personally, disapprove in the strongest fashion (the Vice President being one). I certainly would engage in nepotism were I granted the sort of power a seat on the Supreme Court or in the Congress or Senate or the White House would offer me. So would every other person out there. That's why there are ethics committees and such, and that's why judges recuse themselves from cases involving friends, business associates, or companies in which they have a financial interest. Maybe the judges are heartwarming perfect people who really could be entirely disinterested in such circumstances. And maybe tomorrow morning I'll be awakened by the braying of a purple unicorn in my living room.
My entire political philosophy is based on mistrust of government, mistrust of its intentions, mistrust of its abilities, mistrust of its power, and mistrust of the people who run it. If this sounds paranoid to you, then I'll just add you to my list... But seriously, I don't trust government or its agents. I believe most people generally want to do right when they get into government, but I also believe the form of government, and the more crass needs of politics (politics affect government more than government affects politics), generally cause the quality of government and of the intentions of its agents to degrade endlessly from the moment the institution is created. By this time, in other words, my desire to trust government is approaching nil.
So, no, I don't trust my Supreme Court Justice enough to believe he'll be impartial in a case regarding his friend. If he thinks that means I should "get a life," then I would suggest he be a little less condescending to the people who pay his salary and defend his homeland, whether we get to vote for him or not. Snobbery is unattractive in the powerful.
Of course my favorite line from it is, "People should not be afraid of their government; governments should be afraid of their people." This is a nice summation of my general belief about government and its virtues.
Thus when I saw this quote yesterday from one of our Supreme Court Justices (Justice Scalia):
For Pete's sake, if you can't trust your Supreme Court justice more than that, get a life.
This is in relation to a tired argument that Scalia should have recused himself from a case involving Dick Cheney, with whom he occasionally goes hunting (insert joke here (it isn't hard)). Frankly I never got all that worked up about, nor do I think I could have.
And then I thought, gosh, why should I trust my Supreme Court Justice enough to let him rule on a case involving his friend? I mean, I didn't appoint him to the seat. I didn't vote for the man who did appoint him to the seat. In fact, I didn't vote, nor have I ever voted, for any of the people who voted to confirm him to that seat (I had a chance in 1996 to vote for Bob Dole, but I punched the ticket for Harry Browne that year). He was, in fact, in grade school when my parents were born. He's been in his job for longer than I've been able to drive, and nothing short of the eternal solitude of the grave can remove him from that job.
His lengthy stay in office has brought to him connections to many people, many people of whom I, personally, disapprove in the strongest fashion (the Vice President being one). I certainly would engage in nepotism were I granted the sort of power a seat on the Supreme Court or in the Congress or Senate or the White House would offer me. So would every other person out there. That's why there are ethics committees and such, and that's why judges recuse themselves from cases involving friends, business associates, or companies in which they have a financial interest. Maybe the judges are heartwarming perfect people who really could be entirely disinterested in such circumstances. And maybe tomorrow morning I'll be awakened by the braying of a purple unicorn in my living room.
My entire political philosophy is based on mistrust of government, mistrust of its intentions, mistrust of its abilities, mistrust of its power, and mistrust of the people who run it. If this sounds paranoid to you, then I'll just add you to my list... But seriously, I don't trust government or its agents. I believe most people generally want to do right when they get into government, but I also believe the form of government, and the more crass needs of politics (politics affect government more than government affects politics), generally cause the quality of government and of the intentions of its agents to degrade endlessly from the moment the institution is created. By this time, in other words, my desire to trust government is approaching nil.
So, no, I don't trust my Supreme Court Justice enough to believe he'll be impartial in a case regarding his friend. If he thinks that means I should "get a life," then I would suggest he be a little less condescending to the people who pay his salary and defend his homeland, whether we get to vote for him or not. Snobbery is unattractive in the powerful.
10 April 2006
The Summer of Elm Street
So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.
Yarr. It's odd, actually, that I should take the news of my friend's decision to move to a new house with great sadness. After all, I never lived at the Manley House, which has been Elm Street's central Clemson address since mid-2000. When the guys moved out of the old Elm Street duplex a year after I graduated, I was a bit heartbroken. Of course you can't expect other people to stay in a cramped place because of your memories (or even theirs), but it was a bit sad to see the old place lost to Elm Street.
Still, sadder was the one trip I made to Clemson after graduation where I stayed at Elm Street as a guest, rather than a resident. All in all, sad as it was to see the nucleus of Elm Street move away from Elm Street, it was a better thing in the end. Since then visits to the Manley House have been a regular occurrence, and on some small level there's a part of you that never wants your friends to grow up and leave the college town, because as long as they stay you have a tenuous connection to the place. You can live vicariously through them, and even though indeed they've grown up and moved on, the fact that they are still there, in the town, in the place that holds so many of your fondest memories, that is comforting.
So Lucky Bob's decision to move out of the Manley House and to a new location 12 miles down the road is tough to take. Once Scanime moved out of the Manley House, it was only a matter of time; Lucky Bob could have taken roommates, I guess, but it would not have been the same. How many roommates would be okay with strangers coming in to sleep on the couch every now and then, sometimes in large numbers? That hardly seems likely. I think the truth is I just wanted Lucky Bob to stay in that house forever, because then I could stay there forever, too.
Still, as sad as it to see one more thread of my connection to Clemson cut, I am reminded of Robert Frost's poem. The Manley House, like good old 43 Elm Street, was surely gold in its time. Yet nothing gold can stay; and in Frost's metaphor gold gives way to green. It is sad, certainly, but in reality green is at least as good as gold ever was, and more lasting. The Manley House may have been late spring for Elm Street, but summer is upon us all. Let's go out and enjoy it.
Yarr. It's odd, actually, that I should take the news of my friend's decision to move to a new house with great sadness. After all, I never lived at the Manley House, which has been Elm Street's central Clemson address since mid-2000. When the guys moved out of the old Elm Street duplex a year after I graduated, I was a bit heartbroken. Of course you can't expect other people to stay in a cramped place because of your memories (or even theirs), but it was a bit sad to see the old place lost to Elm Street.
Still, sadder was the one trip I made to Clemson after graduation where I stayed at Elm Street as a guest, rather than a resident. All in all, sad as it was to see the nucleus of Elm Street move away from Elm Street, it was a better thing in the end. Since then visits to the Manley House have been a regular occurrence, and on some small level there's a part of you that never wants your friends to grow up and leave the college town, because as long as they stay you have a tenuous connection to the place. You can live vicariously through them, and even though indeed they've grown up and moved on, the fact that they are still there, in the town, in the place that holds so many of your fondest memories, that is comforting.
So Lucky Bob's decision to move out of the Manley House and to a new location 12 miles down the road is tough to take. Once Scanime moved out of the Manley House, it was only a matter of time; Lucky Bob could have taken roommates, I guess, but it would not have been the same. How many roommates would be okay with strangers coming in to sleep on the couch every now and then, sometimes in large numbers? That hardly seems likely. I think the truth is I just wanted Lucky Bob to stay in that house forever, because then I could stay there forever, too.
Still, as sad as it to see one more thread of my connection to Clemson cut, I am reminded of Robert Frost's poem. The Manley House, like good old 43 Elm Street, was surely gold in its time. Yet nothing gold can stay; and in Frost's metaphor gold gives way to green. It is sad, certainly, but in reality green is at least as good as gold ever was, and more lasting. The Manley House may have been late spring for Elm Street, but summer is upon us all. Let's go out and enjoy it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)