All posts by Joe

Big top.

What time is it? Say what? Can’t be that yet, can it? Seems like we just got up… and now it’s night fall. Oh, right. Small planet. Fast rotation. Got it.

Trouble with being on the road is you never know what town you’re waking up in. Or what planet. That’s bad enough when you have a set itinerary, but with Big Green… mother of pearl! Even when you’ve got your wits about you, it’s hard to figure out where the hell you’re playing. Like this little planetoid Urich our pilot drove us into. It’s not on any astronomical charts. It’s as yet undiscovered and unacknowledged by the scientific community. So, when we walk out on stage to do a few numbers, what the hell do we shout out to the crowd of hideously misshapen extraterrestrial concert-goers? “Helllooooooooo……. whatever!” Got any suggestions? Let us know, damn it. It’s disorienting, and I’m about as disorientated as anyone needs to be. (Except maybe the man-sized tuber… only he’s got a terrarium.)

Well, we did manage to find an opportunity to perform here on the mysterious planet Neuton. The inhabitants seem particularly fond of early 20th century calliope music and something they call “juggling”, which is a kind of anti-gravity technique involving multiple objects that don’t ordinarily float in mid-air without encouragement. But that’s just culture shock, I guess. There are more practical concerns. For instance, transportation is a serious issue. About the only way you can get anywhere on this planet is either by cramming into a tiny vehicle with about 20 Neutonians in full traditional garb, or getting on a tiny one-wheeled conveyance and riding to your destination across a stretched cable. (They throw a spotlight on you while you’re doing it. It’s very unnerving.) And since when are there elephants on other planets? I’ve always thought of them as the quintessential Earth animal, but I guess I’m wrong. (Here they do tricks. Curious thing.)

We performed in this large canvas enclosure propped up with enormous poles. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) didn’t like this at all – in fact, he refused to step inside, apparently taken with the impression that it might fall down on his polished brass head. We finally convinced him to join us on stage, though he would only agree if we gave him a barrel to stand on and a small theatrical umbrella to hold absurdly over his head. (Only tubey seemed to enjoy the spotlight.) Later that evening, we were invited to the local magistrate’s home for what was ostensibly a “meet and greet” event, during which an appalling assortment of Neutonians came up to us in their absurdly oversized footwear and performed their traditional greeting ritual, which involves shoving a sacred custard pie in each of our faces, then baptizing us with purified holy water sprayed out of a decorative lapel flower. This gets a little old… especially when the magistrate invites his entire extended family.

Hey – you got to pay to play, right? Just ask Blagojevich. And now that we’ve divested ourselves of all custard, perhaps Urich will be so kind as to GET US THE HELL OUT OF HERE…….!

Punch list (cont.)

Another segment of suggestions for president-elect Obama as he completes what feels like the longest presidential transition ever. Before I get into that, however, I will briefly join the chorus of people sounding off on Illinois governor Blagojevich and his jaw-dropping, bald-faced, kleptocratic frenzy to fill Obama’s senate seat with the ass of the highest bidder. I think of myself as a fairly jaded individual, generally speaking, having trawled through the sludge of American politics most of my life on one level or another (never a very elevated one)… and yet somehow that transcript of Blagojevich saying “this thing is [fucking] golden” struck me as, well, appalling and depressing, even as it made me laugh. Just the sheer mind-numbing greed of it made me think, as Keith Olbermann said the other day, of Zero Mostel in the original movie “The Producers” … “Oh! I want that money!!” Holy shit.

Anyway, back to another Illinois politician of note, a certain Barack Obama. This week, domestic policy. (No, I’m not done with foreign policy…. just need a break.)

Health Care. National Health Care is too expensive – that’s what we’ve heard year after year, my entire life through. And yet when major banks and investment houses start to cave in on their glorified ponzi schemes, it’s declared a national emergency and we somehow put our hands on the hundreds of billions it takes to float their pirate ships again. Why isn’t the collapse of our health care system a national emergency? The 44 million without coverage – not an emergency? The millions more underinsured and one illness away from bankruptcy – not an emergency? The constant upward pressure in costs that is driving even those with decent insurance closer to the brink – not an emergency?

I think Obama recognizes that something needs to be done, but I’m concerned that “something” will be a series of half-measures. We need a national health system, similar to the Canadian / European model. The current highly privatized insurance system is bankrupting workers, strangling employers, and spinning out of control. It will take something far more comprehensive than a few tweaks and some computerized records to make it work the way it needs to. And don’t let them tell you we don’t have the resources, because we do. We spend an enormous amount right now on a system that doesn’t work. We can certainly afford one that does.

Poverty. Poverty is growing in America. People who had relatively secure middle-class lives a few years ago are now wearing cardboard belts and eating out of local food pantries. Unfortunately, the only tall politician with good hair (i.e. not Kucinich) who talked about this has felled himself with a tawdry sex scandal, in effect bringing the entire issue down with him. (Very costly affair, wouldn’t you say?) Obama needs to take up this gauntlet. Poor people may not vote in large enough numbers to constitute a reliable electoral block, but that doesn’t mean they should be ignored. “The poor” is not a static population… people of relative means fall into poverty all the time. We need to press for policies that will bring about full employment, repair the social safety net, and stop punishing people for not having money.

Okay, I’m through with you for this week. You can record your radio address now.

luv u,

jp

Send in the Neutonians.

Good Fahrenheit, everybody! What a beautiful backhoe it turned out to be. I was wondering how Australia the wine barrel might get before the trout found its gerund.

Forgive me, friends. My brain is addled. I’ve asked Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to correct my copy from here on in. It’s been a long week on the road, let me tell you. Typically I make it to the end with all of my faculties intact, but this was the week we ended up on the mysterious (and as yet undiscovered) planet Neuton. It’s a clever little globe, friends. Knows better than most how to conceal its identity. Hides behind red giants and blue dwarfs – quite ecumenical in that regard. We were diverted there by an unexpected event… a bout of binge drinking on the part of our new pilot Urich Von Braun, who took up with that party animal (in a manner of speaking) sFshzenKlyrn to slog their way through a quart and a half of Zenite lager. Not sure if you’ve ever had any of that particular micro-brew – all I can tell you is that, if you have had it, you may not remember.

Ach du lieber, well Urich started seeing double, triple, quintuple. Frenchmen were all around him. He started flailing his arms, let out a loud moan, and to our dismay, directed the nosecone of our second-hand Soyuz spacecraft at what he thought was a small companion star of Betelgeuse, hoping to pierce it. (It was a dagger, he claimed drunkenly, pointed at the heart of the fatherland. Who were we to argue otherwise?) Before any of us were half-aware of the danger we were in, old Urich had driven us clear around the perimeter of that obese, red star and brought us down into what we now know is the mysterious undiscovered planet Neuton. (No, it’s not where they make the fig bars. That’s clear over to the other side of galaxy. Entirely different globe, my friend.) The landing was hard but survivable. Mitch lost a tooth, but it was one he had just invented last Thursday, so he wasn’t too broken up about it.

Now, obviously, we didn’t have any gigs booked on this particular celestial sphere (even Loathsome Prick Records doesn’t work that fast). Still, as long as we were there, we thought it would be appropriate to at least have a look around. What the hell, right? After all, we’ve got a new album to promote. Gotta find listeners somewhere, even if on a dark and forbidding world. The man-sized tuber was the first out the hatch. Yea, it was cold and dank out there. (More dank, really. Good hefty sweatshirt was enough to beat the cold. But that dankness… man!) We followed the tuber onto the surface and surveyed the area – a desolate boulder field, devoid of life, dimly illuminated by a mellow sun. Then on the not-so-distant horizon we spotted the silhouettes of some kind of sentient life forms. They had sensed our presence, apparently, and began moving closer. As they approached, we could begin to make out their hideously misshapen forms. Ghastly! Nauseating! But, I wondered…. do they listen to pop music? And use currency?

One of them came directly up to me and placed some kind of welcoming garland around my head, like a Hawaiian lei, made of strange, black tubers. While it was a gesture of friendship, apparently, it made me mental. So now my stapling machine is feeling a little burgundy. MARVIN! You’re supposed to be correcting this!

Hope.

The president elect is getting an earful from just about everybody these days, not surprisingly. (His impossibly lame successor is now fully occupied with patching his own image. More on this later.) Surely the O-man won’t mind hearing from one more stranger, one more time. Let’s find out. Here are a few more things to bug him about.

Somalia. Our government has been pumping cash into the Ethiopian regime for years, despite (or perhaps because of) their poor record on human rights, and in 2006 we assisted them in the invasion of Somalia, throwing that sorry nation into another tailspin of chaotic bloodletting (more than a decade of which it had only recently extricated itself from). Apparently the Bush administration had a problem with Somalia’s ruling Council of Islamic Courts, claiming it was run by Al Qaida operatives – a claim that had about as much credibility as the White House’s claims about Saddam Hussein’s bin Laden ties. (I’m not talking fancy neckwear, here.) Between the indiscriminate violence of the Ethiopian military, U.S. air strikes, and resurgent warlordism, as many as 10,000 Somalis have died in the last two years as a result of this invasion.

Our strategic interest in the horn of Africa stems from the early days of the Iranian revolution, when the Carter administration was looking for a replacement for Washington’s close ally in the region, the Shah. They found one in Somalia’s dictator at that time, Mohammed Siad Barre, whose corrupt regime received hundreds of millions of dollars in aid from the Reagan/Bush I administrations before collapsing of its own torturous weight in the early 1990s. The Council of Islamic Courts was not a Jeffersonian democracy, but it was better than the chaos that had prevailed in Somalia after our long “assistance”. (Not an unusual result – think Afghanistan; think Haiti…) That is too valuable a piece of real estate, apparently, for us to relinquish, sitting so conveniently just across the Gulf of Aden from the Arabian Peninsula. Our imperial hooks are still in that carcass. Obama needs to pull them out.

Haiti. Speaking of Haiti. This is the coup that was. (Venezuela is the coup that wasn’t.) In 2004, with the support of Bush and the crew, a bunch of thugs drove President Aristide from power and into exile, the U.S. obligingly flying him (unbeknownst to the Haitian leader) to the Central African Republic, an amazingly remote nation that apparently owed us a favor. Four years later, Aristide lives in exile in South Africa as his nation struggles to regain its footing under the nominal leadership of Rene Preval, who presides while Washington holds a gun to his head. Time for this outrage to stop. Haitians want Aristide to return – let it happen.

Tell Obama what you’re thinking at http://change.gov/ – rumor has it they read the posts. We’ll see.

Bushcapades. While his minions work feverishly to wreck everything they didn’t get around to wrecking in the last eight years, Bush has been making the rounds, giving talks (inspired by bacon boy Karl Rove) to patch up his well-deserved bad image. Bush’s vision of the middle east was criticized for being too “idealistic”, per the president. Not the first word that comes to mind.

luv u,

jp

Sirius moonlight.

Electrodes to power. Turbines to speed. Do I have to say that every time before we lift off? Yeah, I do. What of it?

Oh, yeah – hi, everyone. Big Green here, on the as-yet undiscovered companion (or “planet”) circling the star Sirius, once again preparing for lift-off after a relatively successful string of gigs. What do I mean by “relatively successful”? Well, that’s a somewhat qualified term, I will admit. Let me put a finer point on it. In the Big Green performance book, “success” is defined in degrees of survivability. “Relatively successful” means that few of the bottles tossed at us from the first five rows actually connected with their targets. Fortunately, with someone like sFshzenKlyrn in the group, there’s a significantly lower likelihood of being hit by missiles of any kind, since our Zenite friend is himself a celestial object of indeterminate volume and mass, surrounded by complex magnetic fields that act like an invisible shield, like a protective blister of some kind. Beer bottles just bounce off that sucker, and sometimes vaporize like pyrotechnics. It actually adds interest to the show. (Though I think sFshzenKlyrn is going a bit too far by encouraging people to chuck shit up on stage. Not cool, sFshzenKlyrn… not cool.)

How was the ride from Rigel? A little bumpy. Our new pilot, Urich Von Braun, is not as familiar with Soyuz spacecraft technology as he led us to believe when we interviewed him. So yes, there was a learning curve… a curve that covered about 27 light-years worth of extra travel. (Our budget is totally blown – don’t tell our label, for chrissake.) Much as we encouraged him to use the navigational console, Urich prefers flying by the seat of his pants, as it were – a dubious approach to interstellar travel, in my humble opinion. There were a couple of occasions when Marvin (my personal robot assistant) attempted to draw Urich’s attention to one relevant read-out or another, but he was consistently rebuffed. It could be Urich has a problem with mechanical beings… or it could be he can’t see anything through those thick goggles. One way or the other, he’s clearly a pilot who takes no direction from anyone, not even his employers. (You’d think that would lend us some influence, at least. We’re not real good at this “boss” business.)

So, yeah, there were a few zig-zags, but we got here all right. On balance, it was head and shoulders over what we might have expected with Mitch Macaphee at the helm. Poor Mitch has been almost incoherent with obsession over his latest experiment – a new rubber-like substance that downloads and displays video podcasts and the like. So you can shape it like, say, a map of Madagascar, stick it to any wall you like, and watch, I don’t know, The Colbert Report in the shape of Madagascar. (As it happens, I prefer watching Colbert on a screen shaped like Portugal, but it’s your choice, really.) He’ll be working on that until the end of the tour, trust me – Mitch can really bury his nose in a project. Crikey, he spent the better part of a decade developing the technology that brought us Marvin, and Marvin’s I.Q. is more or less on par with that of the man-sized tuber. (You’ve heard of artificial intelligence? Marvin is artificial stupidity. Nearly as complex, but not quite.) So even with all of his quirks, Urich was a good hire.

Okay, well…. time to prepare for lift off. It’s almost nightfall, and this rocky little planet we’re on has a moon that radiates some kind of death ray (at least where humans are concerned). Mach schnell, Urich, mach schnell!

Pagan Pleasures. The good folks at PaganFM! on Portsmouth Community Radio have included cuts from International House and 2000 Years To Christmas on their Nov. 16 podcast – click here to give a listen. Show a little love and vote for their podcast at Podcast Alley. There’s a good chap.

The B list.

This week I’m going to rant about some issues that the new Obama administration should, in my humble opinion, address. However, it would be hard to post this without commenting on the Iraq/U.S. status of forces agreement approved on Thursday by the Iraqi parliament. This is, in essence, a timetable for withdrawal, setting an end date for our occupation of Iraq – something Bush repeatedly refused to do, used time and again to bait war opponents as being surrender monkeys, unsupportive of the troops, etc. (“Waving the white flag of surrender” as Sarah Palin put it.) So all of that…. was a lot of hot air again, right? Did you catch that too? Thought so.

Okay, back to the O-man. As I wrote last week, Gaza and the D.R. of Congo are festering sores that should be attended to with all speed. There are many other foreign policy nightmares to dispel, and again, I don’t think I need to mention Iraq and Afghanistan as part of that “short” list. Let’s make the list a little longer:

Russia. One thing that is creeping up on us gradually is the threat of a renewed cold war with Russia. While a McCain presidency would most certainly have been a disaster on this front, we are certainly not out of the woods. Russia has a massive nuclear arsenal, nearly on par with our own. The rising price of oil has helped that country climb out of the economic hole that we helped put them in after the fall of the Soviet Union. The rising distrust they have for us is largely the product of our support for the application in the early 1990s of economic shock therapy and the resulting demographic disaster that took place, our insistence on expanding NATO (what was a hostile military alliance) deep into eastern Europe and right to their borders, our idiotic deployment of the dysfunctional boondoggle known as “missile defense” in Poland and the Czech Republic, and our enthusiasm and funding for creatures like Saakashvili, who started the conflict in Georgia this past spring. Obama could do worse than to reverse this policy before it gets beyond asinine.

Venezuela. Related to the above in terms of manufactured threats, the Bush Administration and many others in Washington – including Democrats – despise Chavez for the simple reason that he cannot be intimidated by them. They tried to remove him in a coup, supported by the U.S. and Britain, which quickly backfired. Now they treat him like a dictator, though in electoral terms he has far more legitimacy than George W. Bush, having prevailed in contested elections and plebiscites a number of times. Our leaders deplore his tendency towards empowering the poor and chipping away at the privileges the traditionally U.S.-oriented elite sectors of Venezuelan society, but what REALLY irks them is his material support for independent development and greater regional integration in Latin America. My guess is that most of Obama’s advisors will be on the same side as Bush’s Latin America team with regard to Chavez, judging by what the O-man has said himself. And now, in true cold war fashion, they are making hay out of his arms purchase from Russia and the presence of Russian war ships in “our” hemisphere.

More to follow next week, but as I’m sure you’re aware, the institutional tendencies towards confrontation run strong and deep in our foreign policy. There will be plenty of opportunities to speak up in the next four years.

luv you,

jp

Pilot swap.

How the hell do I know how they found you? It was probably a mistake leaving your forwarding address. We were only going to be gone a month or two, damnit. Ah, well.

Oh, hi, friends. No, we’re not being pursued by bill collectors (at least, not out here in the constellation of Orion). I’m just fielding questions from Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who apparently received a piece of financial spam from some company that identifies itself as “Direct Capital”, to wit:

Sent: Tuesday, November 18, 2008 11:21 AM

Subject: Call Me – Line of Credit

Hi Marvin,

I can help you get set up with a Line of Credit (secured or unsecured) for On Time Van Trans In if you have any purchases you need to make.

It’s pretty quick and easy. Give me a call at (877) 322-9235 and I can get you started.

Kenneth

__________________________

Kenneth Karpel

Finance Manager

Yeah, I know. It’s got spam written all over it, right? Well, try telling that to Marvin. He almost never gets any email. So when this sucker came sailing into his inbox, he nearly blew a circuit board. This could be a problem out here in Orion, where electronics stores are few and far between. Why, just last night I saw our mad science advisor, Mitch Macaphee, re-wrapping and soldering a damaged motherboard under the glow of a battery-operated flashlight. (As I mentioned before, our converted Soyuz spacecraft offers few comforts… like intermittent air supply, for instance…)

So anyway…. after our triumphant, enthusiastic reception on Rigel, we decided to point our second-hand vessel towards richer pastures on Sirius, the dog star. Our perennial sit-in guitarist, sFshzenKlyrn, has chosen to go on ahead of us rather than tag alongside the Soyuz, and frankly I can’t blame him. For one thing, he can fly circles around us, and that’s without a space ship. For another thing, with Mitch in the driver’s seat, it’s positively hazardous. (Mitch has gotten kind of erratic as a driver. I think it’s the medications he’s taking. More on that later.) I don’t want you to think that we’re not taking this seriously – god, no! In fact, we have been offered a substitute pilot for the next leg of our International House promotional tour. As it happens, his name is Urich Von Braun, and I have it on the highest authority that he is a CRACK pilot. He’s a member of the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association, for one thing…. and that’s good enough for me. Urich’s got rocketry in his blood, goddamnit. In fact, he’s got a lot of things in his blood… which is why his license got suspended for a brief time. But that was another time and another era. That’s all I’m going to say about it now. If you want to find out more, ask your mother. (Jesus, is that the time?)

So… Sirius ahead, Rigel far behind. Urich Von Braun at the wheel. Sounds like an interstellar tour.

Change this.

There’s been a lot of talk in the pundit universe and surrounding blogosphere about cabinet appointments. I suppose that’s the kind of news I should expect to hear between now and January 20, aside from reports on the continuing economic disaster, now rivaling Iraq as Bush’s biggest fuckup ever (if not in lives, certainly in dollars lost). For my own part, I’ll reserve judgment until more of the Obama administration is in place. I’d like to spend this longish constitutional intermission between election day and inauguration day talking about the issues that I think should be a priority for the new regime. Not that they will listen, but… here it comes, Mr. President-Elect.

This week, foreign policy.

The Congo War. This is the deadliest conflict since World War II (unless, perhaps, you roll all of the Indochina wars together), and it has gotten very little attention in our national media. This is pretty typical treatment for sub-Saharan Africa, but honestly… more than 5 million people have died over the past 10 years, and it’s still going. The war is often portrayed as impossibly complex and abstruse, but at its root are some very comprehensible motivations. The D.R. of Congo is a Western Europe-sized treasure house of mineral wealth, holding most of the world’s cobalt, as well as massive deposits of coltan and other materials necessary for the maintenance of our 21st-Century technology-obsessed consumer lifestyles. Whoever is doing the actually killing and mass rape at any given time – renegade Rwandan generals or Congolese government troops – these minerals continue to flow into our insatiable industrial economies, just as they did during Mobutu’s and King Leopold’s times. Seems to me that Obama’s foreign policy team could do worse than to make this war a priority, even if it isn’t costing U.S. lives. They could start by dropping the idiotic idea of creating an Africa Command for our military and taking a good hard look at U.S. companies – like Freeport McMoran – who do business in the Congo.

Israel – Palestine. The conflict in Israel-Palestine has run through eleven presidencies without resolution. Will Obama’s be the twelfth? I’m not sanguine about the prospects for an equitable resolution with Rahm Emmanuel, Dennis Ross, and Martin Indyk at the O-man’s ear. One can only hope that the President-Elect is smart enough and compassionate enough to recognize that what the Israeli government is doing right now, particularly in Gaza, constitutes a serious crime against humanity. There is only one obvious solution to this conflict and it’s based on the pre-June 1967 borders. Everyone knows this to be true, but we are frozen in the stalemate established by Nixon, Kissinger, and the Israeli government more than three decades ago. At the very least, Obama needs to apply some pressure to Tel Aviv to take the thumb screws off of those many thousands of families struggling to survive in Gaza, the world’s largest open-air prison. Something like this can only happen if people across our nation make their voices heard in support of that imprisoned population.

I’ve got more, but I’ll stop. Obama’s got a lot on his plate right now – don’t want to burn the guy out this early. Tune in next week, Barack-o. I’m just getting warmed up.

luv u,

jp

Belt stars.

What the hell is this, Mitch? How could we be lost again? We’re using the freaking map. We’re following all the dotted lines. Is that not Rigel? It’s not? Mother of pearl….

Oh, yeah… hi, friends. Having another little problem here with the navigation. Nothing new. We were making the passage from Aldebaran to Orion and Mitch is getting a little confused on which star is which. I keep telling him, you need to follow the arrow back from Mintaka, not forward to Sirius! (I’m like, be serious, and he’s like, Sirius? Are you saying I’m a star? And I’m like…) So, of course, we overshoot Orion’s belt by about a light-year, so we have to double back. Then Mitch gets Betelgeuse confused with Rigel, like he’s looking at the whole freaking constellation upside-down. (Actually, the map was upside-down, so it wasn’t entirely his fault.) And we’re hunting in vain for the third companion (Rigel III) when, of course, there weren’t any orbiting Betelgeuse. (I told him the freaking star was too red, but did he believe me? Huh?)

See, the problem is, our first gig was on that third Rigel companion (also known as “planet” in common parlance). We were running late, owing to our antiquated second-hand transportation, and the Betelgeuse diversion (hmmm… sounds like a blockbuster film starring, I don’t know, Doug Woodstock) cost us precious hours of bobbing pointlessly in space, listening to tuneless whistling emanating from Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who has taken to heart the acknowledgement we afforded him in the liner notes of our new album, International House, as recognition for the minor role he played in its creation. (Woof… what a sentence!) It seems Marvin fancies himself a jazz whistler now, on the order of Maine’s legendary Brad Terry, be-bop whistler and clarinetist (not in that order)… except that Marvin’s whistle sounds more like quitting time at the paper mill. (As I heard Taj Mahal say once in response to audience participation, “Strong… but wrong.”)

Okay, so we spent a couple of days cooped up with the interstellar version of Captain “Wrongway” Peachfuzz and a tone-deaf robot with delusions of grandeur. Kind of a morale-killer, frankly. So by the time we spotted the bleak horizon of Rigel III, we weren’t in much of a mood for performing. Still – we’re troopers, okay? Never let it be said that Big Green isn’t professional enough to overcome a little hardship and put on a good show. (Never let it be said… even if it IS true.) Lord, no… we slammed that crowd with rousing versions of cuts from the new album, as well as old favorites from 2000 Years To Christmas, such as Holiday, Pagan Christmas, and Merry Christmas, Tarzan. Damnedest thing – these folks have heard this stuff! They must get PaganFM! out here! Then we played singing saw solo, blew off some M80s, and set the atmosphere on fire. What fun.

Right, well… if we had done that last bit, we certainly wouldn’t be invited back. Even the M80s would get us in trouble on Rigel III. But it hardly matters – so long as Mitch is driving, we’ll never find our way back there anyway.

Over time.

Yes, the Bush Administration is rolling to a close – sprinting to the finish line, as Junior has said – and they seem remarkably unfazed by a record of failure unsurpassed in modern presidential history. Just this past week Bush took the stage at the global economic summit in Washington and defended “free market” capitalism, “free” trade, and related virtues so dramatically discredited of late, warning his fellow national leaders not to depart too drastically from the neoliberal order concocted by Washington and implemented by the I.M.F. and World Bank. I was not in the room, but I imagine there were a few grimaces, maybe a laugh or two, and perhaps a lot of inattention during Bush’s remarks. Honestly, who is going to listen to the captain of the titanic as he lectures everyone on marine safety? How many of those people have one of those “Bush’s Last Day” countdown clocks on their desks? (Or wish they had one?)

Irony department: As Bush argued for hewing to the I.M.F./World Bank line, the I.M.F. released a report that was critical of the United States’ massive trade deficit… criticism which, of course, the U.S. can blithely ignore, in as much as we are an extremely wealthy nation and accept orders from no one. For the poorer nations, well, there are ways of making them cooperate, and any departure from the neoliberal order can bring consequences, often grave ones. This sounds like a double standard, but as Noam Chomsky and others have pointed out many times, it’s actually a very consistent single standard – wealth enjoys privileges. The “Washington Consensus” and the international institutions that enforce it were created by America and its rich international partners expressly to benefit themselves. Who will respect this system now that it has crippled its creators in much the same way as it has its subjects in the developing world?

It does seem as though people are becoming openly contemptuous of the administration’s financial team, in particular, in the closing months. Even ordinarily reserved public broadcasting was giving Treasury Secretary Paulson what passes for a hard time this past week, with somewhat prickly questioning coming from the likes of Robert Siegel and Jim Lehrer, for chrissake. Paulson and his assistant secretary Neel Kashkari have both been grilled by Congress (again, in a somewhat less incisive fashion than in previous decades, but nevertheless). Everybody is taking swings at them because public faith in the administration is so abysmally low… and with good reason. It’s pretty easy to shoot holes in the $700 billion bailout plan(s), which seems to be evolving by the minute. What amazes me is that, with states facing something like $100 billion in red ink, they don’t seem to show any impetus towards sending some of that money back to state legislatures just to shore up essential services. I mean, if we’re spending like sailors to get the economy going again, shouldn’t we at least consider a state government bailout? I’ve yet to hear it suggested by anyone other than economist Robert Pollin. (Would that Obama would make him treasury secretary…)

Oh, well. It’s nearly “over” time for them. Let’s try to make certain they don’t sink the ship before they jump overboard.

luv u,

jp