Tannishblog

I feel a storm brewing. Like a silent building of the tsunami undercurrent in our society. Disparate energies of outrage and disbelief are pushing the currents to violent expression. Too often a complacent, distracted and comfortable populous remain willfully ignorant of illegal, and outrageous efforts to keep them so. Yet eventually, even the soundest of disbelievers and sleepwalkers must awaken.

So it begins. Everyday more evidence energizes the undercurrents:

The Whole 9/11 Discontinuity and the lingering concern that it was orchestrated from within; The death of Industrial Fishing; Lying us into War with no plans to win. The REAL reason Iran is so dangerous to the US; President Bush’s Attempt at Pardoning HIMSELF!!!; and Cheney Wanted Climate Report Edited

Snooping, Spying, Eavesdropping upon us by our trusted institutions. Bailing out predatory lenders and shifting the burden on the middle class.

Outsourcing Military functions to Private and Mercenary Corporations via no-bid and cost plus contracts. And the inevitable waste of tax payer dollars this creates. There are no cries of outrage when the American Vice President leverages his position to further the gains of the Corporation he left behind, and will surely return to.

A Supreme Court that favorers corporate interests over the people it is supposed to represent. Un-elected government officials Ignoring a government subpoena to testify before congress.

And Now, Wall Street Socialism.

I’ve had enough bad news, have you?

Thanks to Brasscheck TV:

Congressman Wexler interviews the “Attorney General” puppet of this Administration. You owe it to your family to see this, late though it may be.

President Bush vetoed the military appropriations bill. The Democrats gave him every penny of the money he asked for, but dared to stipulate a withdrawal timetable and assurances that the Iraqi government become effective as a government. In typical stiff-necked style, the axe fell.

Four years after "Mission Accomplished." Over $8,800,000,000,000 spent at the rate of $1,560,000,000 per day. A casualty ratio of more than 30 Iraqis for every 1 US soldier. Still - WE CAN"T WIN THIS THING!!!!!

Another $124 billion is needed? Where did all the money go? That seems a reasonable question to ask, isn’t it?

Now, though, the money is not the issue. It was so badly needed a few weeks ago, but thanks to the (only) second veto Mr. Bush invoked, the needy military can scratch their bums while the process starts again. No doubt the Republican talking point memos are already circling the "It’s all the Dem’s fault" wagon. But it was the President that nixed the whole thing, so he’s culpable, too.

Nancy Pelosi notes the President "wants a blank check." As if a price point with 13 digits is insufficient. If $8 trillion dollars couldn’t get the job done, another few billion will make no difference. More soldiers will die with or without the money. Mr. Bush says:

"Setting a deadline for withdrawal would demoralize the Iraqi people, would encourage killers across the broader Middle East and send a signal that America will not keep its commitments…. Setting a deadline for withdrawal is setting a date for failure."

Let me break is to you slowly, man. The date with failure was May, 1, 2003. You took her to the movies to see "Top Gun Meets Mission Accomplished." If I remember right, all the Iraqis in the audience cried.

Leadership on any level is a function of a person’s charisma. Charisma determines levels of trust and respect in relationships. Because we develop lasting impressions within the first few seconds of meeting someone, on a subconscious level, charisma plays a vital role in human discourse.

Since politics is, in essence, a manifestation of human psychology, charisma also plays a large, understated role. Perhaps in this arena more than others, a person’s impressions upon others is paramount to the functions of politics. As such, it is more important how you make others feel than how you think, believe or act - to the degree that actions do not break the emotional illusion invoke through a combination of charisma and careful manipulations.

What invokes such thoughts is the announcement by Barack Obama of his Presidential Exploratory Committee. View the video here. No one in recent years has caught the interest of Americans as he has done. Few since John and Robert Kennedy have had the charisma to reach the hearts of jaded, disenfranchised voters as had this young Senator. Notwithstanding the sporadic media attention, Barack’s message resonates. In his carefree delivery, his innate attraction shines.

Somehow, I get premonitions of doom as I watch him. Both men whom I and others associate with Barack met untimely ends. As I watch the unnerving political machinations of late, I cannot suspend disbelief enough to think we’ve learned any great lessons from the near-martyrization of John F. and Robert Kennedy. To think a man who might make a run at being the first black president, as a Democrat in such hostile times, might sail through unscathed is to ignore the lessons of history.

But, as the man said, there’s always room for the Audacity of Hope. Maybe that could be his campaign slogan…

Written May 1, 2005 for my deceased blog IdiotSyncharcies. Resurrected here because I just read it again as copied on my daughter's blog , and I was (pardon me for saying so) impressed with my own writing. Somehow, it never got transfered here. Makes me wonder how much other stuff got lost in the move…

My mental tides are ebbing, and I’m feeling wonky about this blogging stuff - again. I wonder if Andrew Sullivan and his ilk ever had doubts.

This thought sets off my inner dialogue. One voice says “Of course they do. They’re just as human as you are.” The other voice just snickers. Damn him. The snickers are getting louder in my mind today. My Inner Brat is on the ascendancy:

“Here you go again,” he sneers, “parading your ignorance for the masses. Or should I say for the four people a day who stumble on your weblog. Nobody is so masochistic as to read your drivel more than once. Anyone with any sense would sprain their carpels trying to click back as fast as possible.”

“Of course,” he adds, “sensible people would not waste their time reading blogs.”

I haven’t introduced my voices yet. Inner Brat speaks my fears and insecurities, as is obvious, what isn’t apparent is he like to use the tone and the cadence of my father’s voice. My other inner voice, whom I’ve never bothered to name, is fairly young. He likes to emulate the calm reasoning tone of the Buddhist books I like to read. His voice is soft, flowing like a breeze, and is all-too-easily overcome by the Brat’s brash delivery of scorn.

The young voice speaks: “One cannot speak for the value others will find in the most mundane things…”

“Yeah, and your voice is the most mundane…”

“…like the cherry blossoms you saw today on your walk. Although it was hailing, the trees were ripe with countless perfect blossoms.”

“Oh, shut up!” Brat starts to squirm; He hates stupid trees. And flowers…sheesh!

Continuing unperturbed, Voice holds my gaze. “You felt the beauty of the blossoms to be more striking because of the hail and the dark clouds, didn’t you? It was the juxtaposition of springtime elements - the blooms and the storms - that spoke to you.”

Brat mutters something about “talking trees,” which I try to ignore. “Yeah,” I say, “I wished I had a camera.”

Voice smiles his older-than-all-of-us smile. “The value of the moment is intrinsic in the knowledge that it cannot be captured. What worth has a flower if it remains always in bloom?”

Brat, having heard enough, shouts. “We were talking about Tannish’s crappy blogging, about his pathetic attempt at journalism.” Fists on hips, he strikes a defiant stance, awaiting my response.

“Your right,” I relent. “I’m fooling myself.” Already I begin to rehearse my official exit from the blogging world. Should I write an entry for each of my two blogs, or should I just write one and a quick link from the other? 

“Make it short, nobody loves long, pitiful good-byes,” Brat snarled as if he can read my mind - which, as a figment of my imagination, he can. Then, so can Voice. 

“Every single artist is just as human as you,” Voice gently states. “Humans doubt themselves from time to time. This is natural. Every artist has a side of them that needs to be appreciated. Your work has merit.” 

“So does toilet paper…” 

“Stick with it and you will make new friends,” Voice finishes. My scepticism showed, while Voice smiles his warmest smile and pats my hand. 

As Brat storms off, muttering in the distance, Voice fades like a Cheshire cat, and I’m left to the ebb and flow of my mental tides alone. “Patience,” I can hear as I attempt to row my metaphorical self to the safety of self-assuredness, bolstered for another week of blogging.

It's snowing hard today. My usual early morning routine was altered by my shoveling my neighbors walkway at 6AM. She's over 80 and has a doctors appointment later. Then I dutifully drove the thirteen miles to work.

There's something calming about driving in relatively light traffic in the snow. One must concentrate, sure, but when there's no sense to hurrying, the mind can relax and focus on the task at hand, namely getting myself and my vehicle across town in one piece. All distraction fades. It's almost like meditation.

It's the focusing that the mind likes. Scientists have measured endorphin levels in the brain during certain activities and found that moments of concentration will produce pleasure-related compounds. That would explain my preferences for activities like writing, playing music - even playing computer games - that force the mind to a singular activity or to a series of decisions. Then the brain relaxes into a state similar to meditative absorption.

I have time to blog while at work today because no one else made it in. Our office only has four people, anyway. Being a roofing company, we're virtually at a stand-still this time of year regardless of weather. I'm sure my roofer friends are snuggled nicely this morning as the storm front that crippled Washington State last weekend is blowing through the Windy City today.

Query to self: Why am I still here?

Yesterday’s CNN headline proclaimed the confirmed killing of "a Most Wanted Terrorist," Mushin Musa Matwali Atwah, who made the top ten in connection with the 1988 US Embassy bombing. And we didn’t get him, the Pakistan military did. Eight years and untold casualties later, this guy was "gotten" by happenstance. I’m waiting for the first wingnut to proclaim this a Bush victory…

[…]

Remember America’s War on Drugs? This was our first shot at pre-emptive warfare, and it resulted in a tighter, leaner black market and higher profits for those willing to thumb their capitalistic thumbs at Uncle Sam. But the war rages on in Mexico where, the NY Times reports, 1700 have been killed this year. Perhaps if we make the stuff legal and regulate it to the hilt and tax the bejeezus out of it, life would be saves. But, as they are brown people, our compassionate conservatives are conserving their compassion on the issue.

[…]

Meanwhile, Danny Harold Rolling, the Gainesville, Florida serial killer who killed five students, sang a hymn after being injected on Death Row. Witnesses said he penned the words himself. That should clear his way to the Pearly Gates….

[…]

Every tropical storm is getting star treatment this year as we await the nest "big one." It’s nice that they are given their fifteen minutes of fame, even though "climate change" is a myth.

[…]

And in the Land of Nod, astride the Potomac River somewhere, the Grand Poobah of Mass Destruction talks out of both sides of his mouth near simultaneously:

"I know many Americans are not satisfied with the situation in Iraq," he said in a lengthy statement before taking questions. "I’m not satisfied either." October has been the deadliest month this year for American forces, and the war soon will have lasted longer than U.S. involvement in World War II.

"The events of the past month have been a serious concern to me and a serious concern to the American people," the president said.

Bush said the United States was changing tactics to deal with circumstances in Iraq but shouldn’t change the overall direction of the war.

"Absolutely we’re winning," the president asserted.

If this is what winning looks like, I’m disappointed, too. But all that needs to taken with a pillar of salt, as it is October Surprise time, and the Ministry of Propaganda is in full swing, trying for a three-peat. While we’re asking for the improbable, lets create arbitrary "benchmarks for progress" for the Iraqi puppet government to fail. Looks like our embattled administration is taking a long, banking curve into a reversal of all the spin we’ve been force fed over the past four years. Or they might just be hedging their bets in case the Dems actually pull of their planned coup.

According to a British organization, the Institute of Public Policy Research, media outlets there are engaging in "Climate Porn" by discussing climate change in a sensationalist manner, by "offering a thrilling spectacle but ultimately distancing the public from the problem."

The report identifies ten different ways of talking about climate change, of which the first two are dominant:

• Alarmism (‘we’re all going to die’): this pessimistic approach refers to climate change as awesome, terrible, immense and beyond human control. It excludes the possibility of real action - ‘The problem is just too big for us to take on’. Alarmism might even become secretly thrilling – effectively a form of ‘climate porn’. It is seen in almost every form of discussion on the issue.

‘A world of climate chaos spiralling out of control’

• Small actions (‘I’m doing my bit for the planet – and maybe my pocket’): the ‘small actions’ approach is the dominant one in campaign communications from government and green groups. It asks a large number of people to do a few small things to counter climate change. The language is one of ease and domesticity with references to kettles and cars, ovens and light switches. It is often placed alongside alarmism. It is likely to beg the question: how can this really make a difference?

‘20 things you can do to save the planet from destruction’

It them commences to suggest a marketing approach to discussing climate change, but it is a public relations group….

I find the term interesting. Just as open expressions of human sexuality are still dogged by vestiges of eighteenth-century Puritanism, (you remember them; they burned witches for entertainment. A fun group.) so too is open expression of anxiety toward the runaway train of consequences of unhindered capitalism and its inherent excesses. What’s a soul to do: rephrase all conversation in a politically-correct manner that downplays our collective shortsightedness toward our actions? Manufacturers would like this very much, thank you. Governments would thank us as well for passing the buck onto yet another generation without taking the difficult steps toward reversal. If it is not indeed too late.

James Lovelock, who discovered depletion of ozone and controversial author of the Gaia theory, thinks it is too late. Washington Post reports on the End of Eden (redux) that we might be experiencing. Reading the article, I’m put to mind other radical thinkers whom were unafraid of announcing controversial beliefs: Socrates and Galileo come readily to mind. Dare I mention Charles Darwin? His ideas are still controversial. So, too, Mr. Lovelock, whom I predict we will treat the same as Galileo in the future.

As to the pornography charge: what’s wrong with a little alarmism? It worked so well preceding the Iraqi nightmare. It motivates people, overcomes the couch-potato inertia and gets through to otherwise thick skulls. No one knows how long humanity has before change is irreversible - we may even have passed that point - so action is needed now. Re-framing the argument will only diffuse the urgency needed. It’s just more status quo.

And that’s the last thing we need.

Saturday found us driving to Wabasha, MN to the Anderson Hotel, currently a B&B with the distinction of enabling guests to room with one of the six cats in residence. The oldest hotel in Minnesota, it's celebrating 150 years. Part of this celebration are painted cat statues scattered about town.

The Hotel:              

The Cats:       

Wabasha, a river town on the Mississippi bout 80 miles SE of the Twin Cities, is named after Chief Wa-Pa-Sha and is home to the American Eagle sanctuary. A peaceful old railroad town, it provides a bridge into Wisconsin at a narrowing of the river. My guess is the town grew up around a ferry crossing and the rail stop.

The Town:    

From here, we drove back to Chicago and normalcy. Today we chill out and phyche ourselves to resume the usual grind. School's starting soon, I'ts still the busy season at work, and it'll take most of the year to recover from our spending bltz. Driving the rental car back to the store acted as the proverbial nail on our mini vacation. I guess we should be lucky we could do this much. Next year, who knows?