What Victory?

Right now, big time media (which is to say, virtually everyone) is touting Barack Obama's asskicking of the supposedly ascendant Republican party. Six short weeks (have we heard this phrase often enough?) after he called his party's defeat in the November elections a "shellacking", here he is, getting all kinds of legislation passed out of a lame duck Congress which is traditionally incapable of accomplishing anything, other than prepping their own way into the lucrative ranks of Washington lobbyists.

Granted, the things they passed are notable, not only because of their formerly controversial nature, but just by the shear volume of bills flogged into law. And the GOP has helpfully called themselves out as losers who somehow couldn't maintain their focus long enough to deny the President any victory at all. After all, that has been their strategy, often stated, since November 2008. Do they really have a reason to be so downhearted?

Sadly, no.

Think about what they have lost; The START Treaty; Don't Ask Don't Tell; Bad Food protection; extension of Unemployment benefits. All worthy bills, and we're all better off for their being signed into law. But are they essential or are they peripheral? Don't Ask Don't Tell is Civil Rights for the 2000's, and way overdue, but is any Republican going to suffer for being in opposition to it? Do they really care that it is now a reality? Would any Republican of the last three quarters of a century really have a problem with START? No, and no.

They defied the Dream Act, and they were successful. That may cone back to haunt them, as the country grows increasingly Hispanic. Yet, that is a comeuppance for another day.

What did they get, as we limped down the stretch of lame duckdom? Why they got their wealthy friends their tax break, further piling on to the national debt that they were so disgusted with during the late campaign. They kept absolutely everything that they really care about, exactly as it was before these non-essential Democratic issues were given their day. And oh yes, they also got the estate tax, which would have continued to aid in reducing the deficit, and which also provided at least some leveling to the catastrophic swing in favor of the well-to do.

Okay, I like that these other things got passed. It's nice to see Barack win a couple. It's nice to see him strut a little, and for our side to flip off the bad guys. But make no mistake; they got the big wins. And they know that they will have the whip hand a just a few days. Then, things will get truly ugly and little mercy will be shown.

It Never Stops

So I was driving today and heard this Republican on the radio decrying the Democrats' attempt to get the estate tax exemption out of the proposed tax bill. What it is, is that the bill as put forth by the Republicans would excuse the richest of the rich from having to pay the estate tax which has been their obligation for many decades. We're talking about one quarter of one percent of the population, about those whose wealth is mind-bogglingly, obscenely huge. They've amassed these staggering piles of loot, but it still isn't enough to pass on to their worthless, spoiled kids, who, even with the present estate tax, are still the equivalent of American royalty.

Anyway, this guy is saying that "studies" show that to apply the tax now would be "devastating" to the economy. Pray, what studies could these be? Who produced them, and who paid to have them produced? Remember, the tax was in place during each and every boom that we have experienced over many years. Why wasn't it devastating before? And why would it be devastating now?

He went on say (as Republicans so often do) that by further coddling the wealthy, we stand a much better chance of producing prosperity in the country. You know, like the way in which they kept so many jobs in the U.S., or how they keep the best interests of the middle class and the poor in mind. Like with this tax exemption. Why, of course they'll begin producing jobs in the millions if we make them even richer than they already are!

Of course, Obama likes this addendum to the bill just fine. Why not - he goes along with just about everything else they want. Only a few dedicated progressives in Congress continue to hold the line. I think principally of Bernie Sanders, who staged a wonderful "Mister Sanders Goes to Washington" revival on Friday, holding the floor for eight and a half hours in a one-man filibuster. Not merely quoting bullshit from the bible or phone book as so many hacks have done in the past, he talked about the bill itself, eloquently explaining how fundamentally wrong it would be.

It will probably be in vain. I suspect that the Republicans will be further emboldened, and press for ever more outrageous changes to the essence of what it once meant to be an American. I have a few modest suggestions which I'm sure they could get behind:

• A Constitutional amendment to ban all manufacturing jobs in the United States
• A "Make-Up" tax, so that the unwealthy pay a larger percentage of income to compensate for all the years that the super rich had to pay an estate tax
• The restoration of prima notte, allowing the new nobility to have first shot at poor and middle class brides, before their wedding night with their commoner husbands
• A law requiring special clothing for the unwashed multitudes: maybe something like short pants for the men and dirndls for women
• A law requiring the poor and middle classes to throw themselves into the mud if they see an noble exiting from their limo, so that they will have a sturdy back to tread upon, rather than soil their brunos

Nobles will be easy to spot, as they will all sport monocles and top hats.

Home Fries

Okay, in a few days you're going to have a lot of turkey hanging around, and the issue of what to have with it is going to come up. Well, here is one idea, and it happens to go well with a lot of things (all right, it goes best with eggs,but that's where turkeys come from).

I learned it at the Turtle Pier in St. Maarten, and it goes a little something like this:

Assume that there are four if you having this. You'll need:

five or six red skinned potatoes

3 Tbs unsalted butter

1 Tbs sweet onion or shallot, chopped

sweet paprika

tamari (or soy sauce)

salt & pepper to taste

Microwave the potatoes until nearly done. You don't want to cook them until completely done, because they will fall apart when you cook them and won't retain their shape in the pan. While you are cutting them into a large dice, get the skillet good and hot. You really want to use a cast iron one here, to get that good brown crust on the potatoes. If you don't have one, I suppose you could use a good quality skillet with a heavy bottom. If all you have is the non-stick kind, don't bother reading this. Go play a video game or something, and eat home fries in a restaurant. You don't deserve homemade home fries.

Put two Tbs butter in the pan and let it almost get brown, then put your potatoes in, making sure to have them in a single layer. Then LEAVE THEM ALONE, at lest for a few minutes, so that they can get brown on one side. While this is going on, chop the shallots. Sprinkle the shallots over the potatoes, then dot the pan with the remaining butter.

Now it's time to turn the home fries over (see what I did there? They're no longer merely potatoes, because they've picked up that crucial color). Once again, make sure that they are in a single layer. This is a good time to salt & pepper them. Remember, all potatoes love salt, so don't be shy. You can lower the eat to medium now.

You'll probably have to turn them at least one more time, and add some butter if necessary, but the entire cooking time in the skillet should be less than fifteen minutes. When there is only a minute or two left to cook them, give them a good dusting with the paprika and toss them about in the pan, allowing the spice to cook as well.

Once you have done that, turn the heat off and immediately splash a Tbs or two of the tamari over the home fries tossing them around so that they all get coated. This is the secret to these amazing little fellers.

enjoy

Are We Babies?

Seriously, are we? If things aren't exactly the way we dreamed them, if they fall short in any way whatsoever, why is it that we throw a fit? Of course, I'm not talking about me, or you, hopefully.

Okay, the Dems got hammered in the mid term, as predicted here a couple of weeks ago. Did cracks actually open in the earth's surface, swallowing us all? Is not the Democratic Party still in control of both houses, and will be until January? Then why the hell don't they make hay while they can, and and pass some truly progressive legislation while they still have the whip hand? There is a lot to be accomplished in the weeks ahead, if only they tap into some courage. Then, for the next two years, they can and should hone their message, and relentlessly point out to the public every time the Republicans abandon the American people in order to further enrich the wealthy. Believe me, you won't have to wait long for examples to present themselves.

Meanwhile, the breast beating over Obama's performance continues to be way over the top. The guy can't win: If he admonishes someone on the Right, he is "punching down" when conventional wisdom says one should never attack someone weaker in politics, but always punch up. If he fails to correct one of his opponents, then he is accused of being weak or indecisive. Also, I'm as progressive as anyone I know, but I also live in a real world with real obstacles, that I recognize as real. With the blue dogs in his own party, and they mad dogs in the opposition, he was never going to get a single payor health plan, let alone a public option, never mind how much obvious sense it makes to thinking people. The fact is that he got Health Care Reform, something no other President has gotten in sight of.

He passed Financial Reform (albeit a gelded version), something unthinkable in business-friendly Washington. The guy has accomplished a lot. I know, we want more. But for Christ's sake, if you look at it objectively, the dude has done a lot. And he is holding firm (at least for now) to a Rich Guys' tax hike.

I would like to see Dennis Kucinich become President, but that's never going to happen. Not in this country. Realistically, the choice will come down to Obama or someone like Romney, Huckabee or Palin. Is there really any debate? In 2000 I voted for Ralph Nader because I was tired of voting for the lesser of two evils. I wasn't wrong, because if Gore had only won his own state, he would have won the election (for that matter, if he had won the President's state, or had kicked Bush's ass any any of the debates, as was so attainable). So, I don't regret my vote in that election.

However, now we know how perverted the Right Wing of the Republican Party can be. We know how far they are willing to go in order to pursue their neofacist agenda. A wasted vote is no longer a viable option. Let the Righties split the vote between a grey face like Romney and a tinfoil hat wearing Tea Partyer. We can't afford to do likewise.

If Obama gets a second term, it will be his opportunity to do some really progressive things as other second termers have done (I know, Clinton blew that premise big time). He's a pragmatic son of a bitch, but he's also a student of history. We can still hope. Think of the scorched earth policies we'd have to endure under a Republican.

For the last few days, we have been overwhelmed with nonstop news reports about the poor, fat Americans stuck on a cruise liner, denied hot showers and possibly forced to eat Spam (later denied - they were forced to eat hot dogs) for less than a week. Yes, this is far worse than living in a tent city in Port-au-Prince, or having to survive a tsunami, or volcano, or drought, or genocide. After all, these were Americans, forced to deny themselves the buffet. So, by all means let's focus on that as the only really important news item.

Meanwhile, we Americans continue to cry over the potential of a tax increase. When will you get it through your brain pan that 95% of you just experienced a tax reduction, and that no one is calling for an increase that would affect over 5% of the population? For that matter, I am OK with a tax increase. Go ahead, whack me, if it means that we get to keep Healthcare Reform and introduce other reforms that help Americans less advantaged than me. Isn't that what being a citizen means? Do we have to reject everything that helps others, if it means that have to sacrifice the least little bit? We never had to surrender anything in pursuit of two wars (other than those who actually served, along with their families). Are we really such big assholes? Thus, my titled question.

Answer: Yes, we are Babies.

What's Next?

The pundits are racing to be (among) the first to predict how the minority (!) Obama administration will perform with the Elephants in charge of legislative initiative. In other words, since the House of Representatives will be Republican, and they are the ones who send new legislation to the Senate for their approval (and from there to Barack's desk for signature), how will he respond? With vetoes? With a lecture?

Some of the more prescient commentators have focussed on the pressure soon to be faced by the GOPs themselves.

Now, we know that they want to begin impeachment proceedings as of Day One. No, they don't have to have a legitimate reason - just something to kick them off, like Whitewater was under Clinton, and then go from there to the next thing, and then the next (like from WW to Troopergate, to Paula Jones, to Monica), until they've got the public focussed on salacious shit that doesn't have a thing to do with the real concerns of the American people. It worked, sort of, with Bill Clinton (although he was still popular despite all of the drama, yet nothing of significance was achieved on behalf of the American people).

Even as I speak, Darrell Issa is poised to become the next (semipermanent) Special Prosecutor, whose reason for existence will be to hound the President until he has been emasculated as a political force. The subtext there is fully intended, as any honest Republican or Tea Bagger would admit.

However, this could be a disastrous strategy for them. This is not 1998. The public has a much smaller appetite for Congressional bullshit than they did back then. They want results, and they better get it, or this group will out on their ass as well. Seeing the Black man on a spit may entertain the mob for a while, but most people will want something in return for our corporations' hard earned millions, spent on poorly qualified candidates.

Which brings me to my penultimate point. The Teabaggers who survive the public's common sense and actually get elected (a small minority, but a loud one), will have to produce for their tinfoil hat wearing fans. Expect them to act as though they have been in Congress for decades, presuming that they should call the tune for the other 95% of their colleagues. Can Boehner (the actual Brown Man in this scenario) herd this crew of crazy cats?

Finally, me & the Ms. spent Saturday on the National Mall, being entertained by John Stewart & 200,000 fans. We loved it, but we missed the biting commentary we have grown to love. Granted, he had made it clear that he was going to avoid overt mention of politics, but come on - you were a hundred yards in front of the Capitol building! And, conflating MSNBC with Fox just didn't work for me. One of these two does not lie. The other almost always does, and presents it as news. And... his name is Yusuf Islam. He has a LAST name too.

Anyway, if you ever do this again, you can sign me up.

Shmidterms

So the midterms are upon us (at last, you might say - let’s get the fucking things over with already), and as most predictions predict, the R’s are going to win, and win big. The reasons for this are several, you’ve heard them all, and they’re all true:

Every mid-term after a big Presidential win goes against him - this is historically inevitable. It doesn’t matter how favorably he was viewed two years before. They’ve decided that they hate him now.

We’re going through the worst financial clusterfuck in eighty years. Do you really think that the party in power, regardless of their role in bringing about the said CF, are going to survive intact?

Media is bigger and more in your face than in all of recorded history. If they are uniformly in line with the kick-the-bastards-out scenario being played out nightly, is there any chance that the Dems could survive the midterms?

Finally, if the biggest dog in the media pound, Fox News (still calling out the so-called mainstream media, when they themselves continue to be the biggest, most-watched outlet, and therefore the pure definition of mainstream) is beating the biggest drum, and the public, stripped of all critical thinking for decades now is listening to them for its daily “news”, is anything other than a Congressional takeover even thinkable?

Okay, I hear you saying that, certainly such a collection of genetically challenged candidates as those pushed forward by the GOP, especially the litmus tested Tea Party folk, cannot win. Surely, they are too batshit crazy for normal people to elect? Maybe. Prizes like Christine O’Donnell seem too far behind in the polls to succeed.

But she and the rest of her ilk (Miller, Angle, Paul, et al) hew to a strategy that seems at least possible to bring them victory. First, they make crazy, unverifiable statements about their opponent, or the President, or the direction of the country that are so insane that you just have to wait for them to say “just kidding”. Only they don’t They never say anything qualifying their lunatic position, and no one from the press ever calls them on it.

After their initial flurry of Just Plain Crazy, they decide to hide from the press entirely, except of course when Fox comes a-callin’. Every other media outlet is accused of trying to play “gotcha”, and is viewed as hostile. Fox, of course, plays along.

They engage in no debates, unless they are so far behind in the polls that they need to get on TV to say how they’re being misrepresented by their satan-worshiping opponent and unfairly beaten up by the mean old media.

Once in the debate, they never answer any real questions, but instead reply with a mini speech, which may (but probably won’t) have anything to do with the original query. Palin perfected this approach in her laughable debate with Joe Biden, even announcing beforehand that she intended to reply with her own answers and “not necessarily what they had asked her about”. Sadly, there are also some Democrats who employ this shameful method.

As long as things look good for them in the polls, you can expect to see no more of your Tea Party favorites than this. Of course, you’ll see plenty of them in ads - far more than you will of their opponents. I don’t need to go into why that is. You’ve read enough to know that their war chests are bloated with corporate (thanks, Supreme Court!) and foreign funds. And that gets me to the last reason why they will win on Nov. 2: Whoever spends the most wins. It’s general but true. The electorate - never really educated on the issues - will vote for whomever they’ve become the most familiar with.

Tale From a Trunk, The Salt Mountain

The good news is that a three part autobiography by Mark Twain will be published after one hundred years of silence, as he requested. The first of three installments comes this November.

It reminds me that I should go back to the trunk and see what else is in there.

This piece looks to be something that didn't make the cut when he submitted the manuscript for Roughing It. Maybe because of the guides.

Mountain of Salt

We had ten days before our carriage was to take us out west, and so some acquaintenances and I decided to visit a local oddity, called by some The Salt Mountain. I had never heard of such a thing. Our land is so vast and strange that its wonders cannot be catalogued, not to say glimpsed, in the lifetime of an ordinary man.

We hired as a guide Scripture Johnson, and his common-law wife, Patience. They were a ruffianly looking pair, and practically indistinguishable from one another, excepting that she had a shorter beard. Their filthy appearance was insult enough to decent society, but in addition they sought each other’s affections at regular intervals, and without the benefit of the saving cloak of night, or of a closed door. When this would happen (often while astride their mules), we set to with a groan of distaste which was matched by the braying protests of their beasts. “For pity’s sake”, they seemed to be saying, “Ride us into dust if you will, but spare us the sight of your unnatural coupling!”

They looked to all the world as a pair of twin brothers, slobbering over each other - the stuff of nightmares.

We found it necessary to ride upwind of them, which did not benefit the cause of their guiding, but we thought it better to take our chances than to endure their scent. Their beasts were denied this option, and so suffered greatly.

The object of our journey was supposed to be not more than forty miles south of St. Louis, but after three days we had not raised sight of its snowy prominence. Each morning we tested the air with our noses, hoping for a sea-tinged breeze signifying that the great salt promontory was within reach. For three mornings we were disappointed. By the fourth morning I was determined that our guide knew nothing of the famous mountain, and had taken us for fools. Scripture was satisfied that all would come out as foretold, but I grew increasingly annoyed by his incompetence. Perhaps I lacked patience.

That was what we call a groaner. The joke, if I may call it that, is a little frayed around the edges and will not stand on its own without visible support. The existence of such support only serves to identify the pun as weak and unable to remain fresh and upright on its own merit, and therefore ought to be retired or at least sent for a long vacation, where it may rest and gather its strength, until the public has forgotten its existence, and may be persuaded to enjoy it again many years in the future.

By the morning of the fourth day we were full of grumblings and of a mood to return to St. Louis, but Johnson assured us that we would raise the mountain early that day. We decided to give it another try.

The sky was gray and threatening. Dense flocks of black birds wound above us, crying in alarm. We were a mile or more from a river, traveling along its old course. Meandering ravines pulled one way and another. Thick cane breaks and old, vine-laden trees stretched over head and seemed to be following our slow progress. We talked little, then not at all. I imagine we each harbored dark thoughts as our mules carefully picked their way through the tangled growth all about us.

For an hour and a half we rode thus, until Scripture Johnson called a halt and pointed ahead, saying: “That way lies the mountain.” We leaned forward and strained our eyes seeking the snowy pinnacle, but all that greeted our gaze was more thicket. He happily explained that some quarter mile ahead the land rose steadily, culminating eventually in the looked-for salt mountain. ‘It’s wore down some,” he explained as we rode. “First Injuns, then regular folks, have been whittling at it for many a year. Deer too, they like to get their salt lick. Then again, the rains and the snows have had their go. It must have been something in its day, when you could see it from clear in St. Lou.”

We began to feel restive, and shifted in our saddles uncomfortably.

“But,” I ventured, “it’s still a mountain, isn’t it? All made of white salt?”

“Why, I guess some people still call it a mountain, so it don’t matter what some other people might say. It’s what the thing itself has come to be known as, what counts. Isn’t that right? Why, you were known by your name from the day of your birth, wasn’t you? But here you are, no longer a babe in arms, tall and strapping, full of whiskers, but still known by the same name. Isn’t that right?”

“Now see, I’m not much for philosophy. Can’t you tell me straight out - is it or is it not a mountain of salt, still?” He felt at his chin and shared a glance with Patience. I shuddered as she returned his look with a wink.

“It’s what’s left of a mountain. And there it is!” He gestured theatrically at the dense growth before us.

It looked no different than what we had been clawing through for the entirety of the morning, except that it was of a slightly higher elevation. As we approached the most impenetrable part of the thicket however, we saw that beyond the dry dead timber the ground was cleared. Finding that we could go no further while mounted we left our mules and picked our way through the bracken.

What we had thought was an impassable forest was in reality the ring of old rotten growth which surrounded the salt mountain like a protective wall. Nothing will grow on salt, but the force of nature crowded it closely, and sent exploratory vines, as thick as my wrist and as old as myself, across its surface like so many cracks in the surface of a frozen pond in March.

It was less a mountain, much less, than a dome. The open space created by the mound of hardened salt was little more than the amount of land required for a village green. And a small village, at that. It rose, and tapered from the ground where we stood to a promontory perhaps eight feet into the air. It was uniformly rounded, of rough texture, and gray or brown in color. Some of the vines had worn grooves into its surface. Dead leaves had also collected amid the arteries, which we brushed aside to better view this wonder. We chipped at it with our knives and put it on our tongues.

It was salt, but had an unpleasant taste of metal. “White folks stopped coming here a couple generations ago,” Johnson explained. “They found better salt somewheres else. Plus, some said it made your teeth blue.”

I imagined the place as it had once been, deep beneath the waters of the ocean. For uncounted eons it had lain there, quietly accumulating its layers of salt. Its only visitors then had been fish, or leviathan. There in the vast cold it had rested, surrounded by the dark and quiet. Then, some cataclysm had occurred, thrusting the sea bottom upward to the surface. Rivers and rains had cleansed the white peak, swelling rivers had cut remorselessly into its flanks. Its caustic matter repelled attempts by green growing things to inhabit its surface.

More eons passed, and finally men came. Savage Indians, they used the salt to cure their meat and to give it savor. A hundred generations of these men carved its sides, making it smaller. Each winter exacted a further price, melting it by degrees. When finally the White Man arrived, it was a mere suggestion of its former majesty. They too took its bounty, but soon found better sources for their salt. It was abandoned and forgotten, except by those few who rarely visited the lost mound, bringing with them a train of the curious.

We removed some large chips and placed them in our saddle bags, as souvenirs to enthrall our children. I had lost my piece before we began our journey west.