Big story this week about Afghanistan. In fact, a remarkably big story. Unfortunately, it was overshadowed by that flap over the ambitious general, McChrystal, who I can only think must have been very tired of his posting. (What the hell – not enough detainees to abuse, like in Iraq?) Far more interesting than this tawdry act of insubordination was the release of a congressional report confirming Aram Roston’s story in The Nation some months ago that detailed how our military resupply operations are actually generating a revenue stream for the Taliban, through bribery (the basic system of exchange in Afghanistan). Forget about the personalities involved here. We are, in essence, arming both sides. Shouldn’t this be of greater concern? Hello?
Most of the reporting on Afghanistan – the Rolling Stone article included – includes a kind of embedded imperial perspective. There’s an underlying assumption that we should be in Afghanistan, that there is some legitimacy to our enterprise there, and that it’s largely a matter of getting it right. This attitude is a formula for remaining in that country for the rest of any of our lives (particularly with respect to anyone who is sent to fight there). Unfortunately, our foreign policy is driven by domestic politics and the need for leaders to act “tough” and project an image of American exceptionalism. That is what makes generals like McChrystal so attractive to our leaders and the mass media that fawn on them (until they say the wrong thing).
Some talking heads have expressed gratification that McChrystal’s criticisms were mostly about personalities, not the actual strategy. This is good news? So what we’re doing over there is right, or “working” even? Here’s the strategy we need, in three words: Get. Out. Now. Not sure how ambitious a general you need to implement that one. As George McGovern once said, the best way of doing that is to put the troops onto trucks and head for the border.
Job Security. I see that the Senate has blocked any action on unemployment benefits and extended medical insurance to those millions without work. Once again, the tyranny of the minority is somehow keeping us from doing the right thing. What will it take to get the Democratic leadership to face off with the GOP on their perpetual filibuster strategy? Are we going to simply accept that it takes 60 votes in the already undemocratic senate to pass anything? What the fuck – people are hurting, damn it. Time to call your congressmember and Senators and tell them to push this through even if it means depriving Ben Nelson of his hair hat.
luv u,
jp
Whoops. Didn’t know anyone was browsing this side of the Web. Hope you’re doing well. Bit embarrassing, this, actually. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) recently got his prehensile claws on one of those super-shmeensy video cameras. He says he had to go broke to get it…. he had to go broke the department store window, that is. (Cue laugh track. I said cue it, Marvin! Do I have to do everything?) Anyhow… now Marvin has to video everything, committing our sullen, sordid lives to Quicktime day in and day out. What he’s doing with it all I can only guess. Posting it to YouTube? Burying it in a hole in the yard? Feeding it to Big Zamboola? Lawd knows.
What else has been going on? Well, a little bit of music making, one might say. There’s been some talk of a tour, it’s true – another interstellar excursion of indefinite duration and itinerary. Perhaps an inner-earth tour, though the mansized tuber may ask to be excused from that one. (As a root vegetable, he has spent more than enough of his life underground.) I have also heard mutterings about a possible performance in upstate New York, at an area music festival ’round the Mill somewheres. Can’t say more at this point. I’ll listen a little harder to see if the mutterings are generally in favor or opposed to the suggestion. Then I will amplify them with my trusty typing fingers. From their mouths to your ears – that’s my pledge. (I’m just a freaking middle man!)
What, objectively, can our government do? Well, a lot more, it seems. Our regulatory mechanisms are mere appendages of the industries they are charged with overseeing. In many cases – such as with the Minerals Management Service- that was the intention. We’ve also just come off of a long period – eight years – of having former oil industry executives in charge of the government. That greatly enhanced the culture and practice of “hands off” regulation specific to that industry – an approach that was generalized to the rest of the economy. So the first thing that needs to be said about this crisis is that it is in large part another parting gift from George W. Bush and Dick Cheney. Just add that to the pile, right next to the financial crisis, the Citizen’s United Supreme Court decision, the continuing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and so on. What’s next?
Oh, hi. Just caught me in the middle of a little band meeting. (Bret? Here. Jermaine? Here. Murray? Here.) I’m being raked over the coals by my fellow Big Green members and our various hangers on – Mitch Macaphee (our mad science adviser), Lincoln, anti-Lincoln, Marvin (my personal robot assistant), the man-sized tuber… even Big Zamboola has chimed in. What’s the “issue”, as they say? Oh, hell… it’s about our perennial sit-in guitarist from the planet Zenon, 
That was the last dose of goofiness. The most recent one was on Israel’s attack on a Turkish relief ship heading for Gaza, during which the IDF killed 9 people on board. Of course, in Krauthammer’s view, the attack was completely justified, taking up the usual line that the Israeli government has been following – Hamas has fired 6,000 or 7,000 rockets into Israel. Leaving aside the omission of any accounting of Israeli munitions fired at Gazans over a comparable period (with much greater human effect), Krauthammer proceeded to defend not only Israel’s blockade, but its occupation of all of the territories it seized in 1967 (including the Sinai) and its occupation of southern Lebanon for almost twenty years. You see, these were not occupations but forward defensive positions. Even long after anything that might be realistically termed a standoff or state of war existed between Israel and its immediate neighbors Egypt, Jordan, or Lebanon. So that should clear THAT up.
Another hot one here at the Cheney Hammer Mill. Global warming at work, no doubt. Whatever the cause, it’s sweltering in here. I spent the morning hanging my head into the primitive air shaft at the center of this unused pile of industrial masonry – it seemed strangely airless. That’s why I’m asking Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to break out the fans. It’s times like this when any performer turns to his/her biggest fans. (Boom-crash!) How are ya, how are ya, how are ya! Anybody from Detroit in the audience tonight? Anybody? You in the back? There you are. Gotta’ love the motor city!
I have an excuse, though not a very good one. Just the night before, our beloved sit-in guitarist from the planet Zenon 
Such obfuscation is more effective with today’s all-volunteer military, but back when the draft was running at full steam, it was a much harder sell. When you are literally forcing people to go to war, your praise tends to ring a bit hollow. Of course, our volunteer military is forced, technically speaking – they have no choice but to go, even if they merely joined up for the promise of college tuition. But unlike the 60s and prior, this is not a broadly-experienced phenomenon. Back then, masses of young people were threatened with deployment and particularly in the case of Vietnam, many were sent against their will. In that circumstance, there’s a strong incentive to examine the policy very closely. Many did, and didn’t like what they found.
If it sounds like I’ve been reduced in rank to roadie status, that’s because it’s true. Just call me Spike or Lenny – you know, one of those roadie names. I’ve considered investing in a carton of muscle shirts, but I don’t have any muscles, so… what’s the point, right? (How do I lift those heavy bass cabinets? Tendons only, my friend.) There are worse things to do for a living, only up to now I haven’t had to do any of them, so… this is rock bottom. The things we do for friends! And by “friends” I mean robot friends.
Turns out I’m the “how”. Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t be wasting my time on this shit. Only.. he’s the only robot I’ve ever had, and when those brass eyes start to tear up, I relent. Mind you, I’m the only member of Big Green involved in this enterprise. Matt and John both flat-out refused to carry water for a bunch of mindless robots. None of our other household denizens and assorted hangers on at the Cheney Hammer Mill would agree to lug Marvin’s gear around either (I thought I could at least get the Lincolns interested, but they REFUSED, insisting they had something else going – some kind of debating society, I believe.) As for the man-sized tuber, he’s running the sound board, and… well, those little twig-like arms of his are even less suited to a roady’s tasks than mine.
It’s also clear that this spill was the result of negligence in the extreme; of greed carried to a fatal crescendo. BP and its hirelings were in a tremendous hurry and cut corners drastically. Combine that with the obvious fact that these people do not know how to deal with a well blow-out one mile under the surface and you have the makings of an environmental crime of historic magnitude. You also have the crime of manslaughter, at least, with the deaths of 11 workers in that initial explosion (the photographs of which are flabbergastingly reminiscent of World War II naval battle photography). As with the pirates who own Massey Energy, BP execs must be held accountable, as well as the contracting firms that aided them.
Oh, hi. Sorry… I was reading Marvin (my personal robot assistant) the riot act. Not that he needs to be reminded of its contents – It’s been posted on a spike inside his memory banks for a good many years now. Nevertheless, I felt he needed reminding because he’s been unusually disruptive of late. Sure, there have been times when Marvin’s programming has gone south or when he’s unduly under the influence of nefarious telemetry from alien planets (don’t think it doesn’t happen, because it does!). Only recently he’s been trying his hand (or robotic claw, more properly speaking) at a number of different small enterprises, hoping to make a marginal living in these hard times. (What exactly he needs money for, I don’t know. Perhaps some kind of automatonic inebriants.)
Okay, so I’m in the studio, pounding on the keys, trying to make something that sounds vaguely like music. I hit the playback button, and I hear this grinding sound that bears no resemblance to the one emitted by my aging Oberheim rack unit. It was, in fact, motor noises being picked up by an ambient mic. So I go upstairs and see Marvin mustering a small army of robots – I don’t mean five or six normal robots, but about 40 to 50 toy-sized automatons, all with little purring lawn mowers. He apparently crimped the little suckers into being the muscle behind his new landscaping business, and they were practicing on the Hammer Mill courtyard. Which is made of cobblestones. Genius!