The first question I asked myself when I heard about the Koran burning incident in Afghanistan was, how could anyone make this mistake? What were the circumstances of the burning? For chrissake, everyone knows what the consequences of such an act are likely to be. When that crackpot preacher in Florida was ostentatiously threatening to burn the Muslim holy book, diplomats, generals, political leaders, clergy … people all across the country and around the world were applying pressure on him not to do this. It is deeply inflammatory – this is widely known.
My second thought was, this is not simply about burning Korans. This incident followed ten years of war and all the evils that are contained within that fact. It occurred during a stretch of weeks in which we saw cell-phone video of American soldiers laughing and joking as they pissed on the corpses of Afghans; our military personnel adopting an SS-type insignia for one of their units; our Defense Department persisting in its robotic Drone war on both sides of the Pakistani border. Now Afghans are turning their guns on our people. Is anyone really surprised?
Here’s the problem: we just cannot see this issue clearly. Even on liberal MSNBC, it becomes a question of those ungrateful Afghans, railing against their funders and protectors from the U.S. It is portrayed as a component of Karzai’s corruption, a favorite meme of the mainstream political culture, leaving aside the inconvenient fact that he was planted in the country by the Bush administration, had been an exile Afghan fixer for fossil fuel industry prior to his tenure as head of a severely ailing country. We need to get past this idea that they owe us something. The Afghans owe us nothing. We screwed them severely during the years of the Soviet war, back in the 1980s. We screwed them afterwards, leaving them to an internecine struggle that tore what was left of the country apart. Then came 9/11, which we laid at their door, though the cave-dwelling Bin Laden was only the head of an al Qaeda snake that coiled from Saudi Arabia to Germany to Florida and beyond.
Bin Laden is dead. He wasn’t even in Afghanistan. He was safe and dry in Pakistan, laughing at our folly. What the hell are we still doing there?
luv u,
jp
Woe is he who must labor in vain. I don’t know what that means, but whatever… your friends in Big Green are proprietors for the nonce. That means we have proprietary interests, perhaps for the first time in our lives. And you know what they say… as soon as you get a stake in the world, it’s all over. Kiss your altruism goodbye, my little scaly friend. Forget your deeply held values – this is cash, Jimmy-boy, cold hard cash! To hell with all that other stuff. All we care about is pushing product out the door at a tidy profit.
The latest round has been in state legislatures from Georgia to New Hampshire, where the crackpot tea-party majority has proposed a “conscience” exception so broad it practically guarantees legal challenge. (These are the freaks who insisted, bizarrely, that all legislation be rooted in the Magna Carta, even though few of them have ever read the document in its entirety. Next, they’ll demand all proposed laws draw on neolithic cave paintings.) Then there are the fetal “personhood” statute and vaginal ultrasound bill in Virginia, scaled back in the face of massive protests by women in that divided state. This … from the party that was all about jobs, jobs, jobs during the 2010 election. See what happens when you trust them?
What am I talking about? What indeed. I’ll tell you, friend(s), we’ve been squatting in this abandoned hammer mill for more than ten years. You know what squatting that long does to your quadriceps? Seriously, we’ve been occupying the Cheney Hammer Mill before the Occupy movement ever put on its first pair of short pants. Not for any principle, you understand, other than that of having a roof over our heads. A penniless band, Big Green was in those days. Ah, but no more. Fortune has smiled upon us, once again.
Then there’s the billionaire problem. It seems that every major candidate has his sugar daddy. For Gingrich it was Adelson, the reactionary casino magnate. For Romney, it’s himself (of course). And for Santorum, it’s Foster Friess, last name pronounced “freeze”. That’s right: the person behind Rick Santorum, presidential candidate, is Mr. “Freeze”. Time to pick up the bat phone, commissioner. This time, Mr. “Freeze” has a plan that just might work. After all, Santorum was nobody, absolutely nobody before the right-wing, hyper Christian billionaire started sluicing money in Super-PAC support of his flagging campaign. Then, hey-presto! Front runner status, with no campaign headquarters, bare-bones staff, and little organization. Just like many of the previous front-runners. Sense a pattern?
Yeah, I know – I should expect this sort of thing, living in an abandoned hammer mill. Remnants from the forge room, repurposed for bedding materials. Such are the times we live in. Big Green, like many indie bands, lives pretty close to the margin, my friends. We don’t have the resources for all of those extras bands like The Decemberists and Black Flag can afford. God, no… we just make do with what we’ve got. In these hard times, our fans expect this much at least: that we should be every bit as miserable as they are. And friends, we don’t disappoint.
Of course, we all know how this story ends. What became of Saddam Hussein’s nuclear weapons ambitions about which “there can be no doubt”? It was just as defector Hussein Kemal described it in the mid 1990s, in interviews that were well circulated before the Iraq war: Iraq had never gotten beyond the theoretical stage in weapons development, and what technology they had relating to uranium enrichment was broken up and buried after the Gulf War. And their missile technologies? We all know about the aluminum tube hoax. Then there were the deadly drones – basically model planes bound together with duct tape. This is why the current claims about Iran shouldn’t be taken too seriously.
Whoa, hey… didn’t know anyone was reading this here blog. I was just practicing in my spare time. What am I practicing? Thought you might ask. Just in case I find myself running for president in sixty or seventy years, I thought I might need a little background on how to warm up a crowd at a retirement center. Now I know just how to do it, sort of. Anywho… we’ve all got to keep ourselves occupied, what with Big Green up on blocks like a 1976 Chevy Monza that needs a ring job. We’ve been blowing oil for about 5,000 miles now, folks. Time for a tune up. [METAPHOR OVER.]
Mind you, I’m not a total agnostic on this. There is a difference between the parties. I wish it were a bigger difference, but there’s no point in denying that it’s there. Obama hasn’t done anywhere near what he would need to do to restart this economy and get it going in a more sustainable direction. I don’t know that he’s particularly inclined towards making any bold steps forward on that front – he’s Captain Cautious in that respect. I have a lot of problems with his policies pretty much across the board, but there’s no doubt in my mind that Romney, Gingrich, and Santorum represent a boatload more trouble for all of us than another four years of Obama would.
Right, you guessed it. I was being ironic just then. Some people do that for a living. Me? I’m ironic in my spare time. Actually, it’s not merely a matter of personal whim. We’ve just taken on a marketing consultant recommended by our somewhat lackluster label, Loathsome Prick Records. I would tell you her name, but she told me her name must never be spoken. In any case, she – I will call her “Noname” … which rhymes with Edamame in my tiny mind – is going to help us “position” Big Green in the international indie music marketplace. That’s something our label tells us we need to do, like, RIGHT NOW.