The Scallion

Disclaimer: this online political & social satire webzine is not suitable for the decerebrate (translation: our illustrious bonehead, his benighted administration, neo-ultraconservative Republicans, rabid Catholics, sheep, or their sympathizers) or for readers under age 18. As satirists, we take no responsibility if what we say is dangerously close to the truth. If you're under 18, stop reading this NOW & go turn yourself in to your Mommy for a well-deserved spanking, you no-good little whelp.

Tuesday, June 17, 2003

Prisoners (oops!) Guests of Friendly Uncle Sam Living the High Life in Guantanamo Bay

June 17, 2003. At Uncle Sam's Guantanamo Bay Pleasure Spa and Resort, prisoners—oops, we meant “guests”—bask in the spacious ambiance of their elegantly appointed 6-1/2' x 8' wire mesh cages. Boasting luxurious wooden roofs, the cages—oops, we meant “Uncle Sam Pleasure Condos”—are charmingly open to the tender attentions of Mother Nature on all other sides. The condos are nestled in blocks of ten to twenty for the comfort and convenience of each and every valued guest. Guests are invited to adventure forth from their snug little homes once a week for just long enough to luxuriate in a refreshing, one-minute shower. Each valued guest receives two complimentary blankets and one complimentary prayer mat; because the resort's location makes it difficult to stock a plurality of all those cute little soaps and bottles of shampoo, concierges do not currently offer any additional complimentary amenities. Guests enjoy conducting every waking and sleeping activity, including eating and praying, on the floors of their “private” condos. It has been reported over the past year that, under these extravagant conditions of luxury and wealth, a majority of guests somehow became so despondent that many went on hunger strikes and tried to commit suicide in their happy little homes-away-from-home. Even the decadent upgrade of the shower to five minutes and the sinful addition of once-a-week exercise—far more than even the most affluent Americans ever receive—failed to appease generous Uncle Sam's greedy, ungrateful guests. The scandalous outcry of complaints, attempted suicides, and even more refusals to dine upon the resort's sumptuous fare led to a further relaxing of the resort's policies: now, guests routinely waste precious natural resources and energy with wasteful ten-minute showers once a week. Guests' weekly exercise sessions, complete with an individual trainer, comprise a cheery romp—known in middle-America as a “power walk”—in a specially-designed, otherwise unfurnished, thirty-foot-long, wire-mesh gym.

“That better be good enough for 'em,” growled an angry John Ashcroft. “That rowdy mob of towelhead terrorist bastards is lucky to be alive. By my standards, they were living it up the minute they got here. Before that, even—heaven only knows how many stewardesses they pinched on the flight over.”

Pruning Bush: Rand Beers's Perspective

June 17, 2003. Rand Beers, who was once Resident Bush's top counter-terrorism adviser, has not only denounced his former boss but has joined John Kerry's presidential campaign in an effort to evict the Resident. The Washington Post (http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn/A62941-2003Jun15?language=printer) quotes Rand as saying that the Bush administration is guilty of “underestimating the enemy.” He goes on to say that "difficult, long-term issues both at home and abroad have been avoided, neglected, or shortchanged and generally underfunded." Rand further claims that, by emphasizing war over domestic security, the White House has left Americans “more vulnerable than ever.”

We of The Scallion applaud and thank Mr. Beers. We couldn't agree with him more.

Courtship's Over: Corporate Special Interests Now Irretrievably Wed for Life to the Republican Party

June 17, 2003. After a passionate, whirlwind courtship, American corporate special interests eloped today with the panting Republican party, as evidenced by Bush's appointment of Ed Gillespie, an avid lobbyist and proponent of American corporate special interest, as the head of the Republican National Committee (just in case anyone doubted where Bush's priorities are).

A quiet little affair, the wedding was kept quiet from the press, along with the dubious affiliations and checkered pasts of the happy couple. Although corporate special interests wore white to the wedding in an attempt to forget, ignore, or, at least, hide its past from curious onlookers, the bride offered this grinning, giggling response to a question from a Scallion reporter: “Tee hee! No, silly, of course I'm not a virgin. The list of those I've happily, wantonly screwed is too long to count. 'Anything that hasn't been cremated yet' is my motto—always has been, always will be. Even after the wedding, I'll be porking anyone I can get my greedy hands on. The Republican party will be, too. So I can't see why I should try to be good when the groom has already told me he plans on misbehaving his jocks off. But, heck, every girl wants to look her best on her wedding day.”

No comment was available from the groom, who stood there panting and grinning lasciviously with his hands conspicuously folded over himself, failing miserably to conceal his state of arousal.

Despite the inevitable ill effects for the country of this ill-advised marriage, it is expected to blossom into hitherto unseen and unimaginable wedded bliss for the happy newlyweds.

Lipitor? Fuggedabout It!

June 16, 2003. By now, most Americans are familiar with cholesterol’s supposed role as a health villain and alleged contributor to atherosclerosis, or hardening of the arteries. Interestingly, most Americans are not aware that the jury is still out regarding whether cholesterol is actually a contributor or, perhaps, a coincidental indicator of potential heart disease that only shows up in later stages of the disease process.

More frightening is the fact that most Americans—including the vast majority of doctors—remain dangerously unaware of some terrifying side effects of a popular, widely-prescribed drug that purports to help control blood cholesterol levels: Lipitor.

Imagine that you had been taking the standard 10 milligram dose of Lipitor—and no other medications or diet or lifestyle changes—for five weeks with no ill effects. Suddenly, during your sixth week of treatment, you experience a terrifying episode in which you no longer know who you are, where you are, or what you are doing. You continually ask the same questions of those around you because you cannot process the information to form new memories. Your doctor puts you through every physical and neurological test in the book and, upon finding nothing obviously wrong, tells you your six-hour ordeal is merely a “senior moment,” and you should just quietly learn to accept these occurrences. With the strong conviction that the episode must be due to the Lipitor, you discontinue taking the medication.

Then, suppose that, one year later, you are advised to resume taking Lipitor, but you agree to take only 5 milligrams—half the recommended dosage. Then, exactly six weeks later, you experience a twelve-hour episode in which you not only forget who and where you are but also everything you experienced since high school. And you are again told that it’s “impossible” that Lipitor is the culprit—you are just getting old.

This anecdote was a scary reality for one hapless, health-conscious individual. Needless to say, he hasn’t touched Lipitor since.

Luckily for him, his two nightmarish episodes were temporary—they resolved on their own with no intervention from the medical community. Luckily for the rest of us, these terrifying ordeals of Lipitor’s cognitive side effects didn’t happen to just anybody: they happened to a medical doctor—a NASA flight surgeon. And he wasn’t willing to leave good enough alone. He called other physicians all over the country only to be told by the vast majority of them that Lipitor could not be causing the problem. Frustrated, he finally reached the People’s Pharmacy, which referred him to a doctor in San Diego who confirmed three cases just like his own. Together, they published his account of Lipitor’s cognitive side effects—the two doctors received thousands of responses from frightened patients who had experienced the gamut of cognitive side effects from anterograde and/or retrograde amnesia to disorientation and confusion. They contacted the FDA, which has yet to make a ruling on Lipitor.

Since these cognitive side effects only strike roughly one in one thousand patients on Lipitor and seem to resolve on their own, they are still considered to be relatively rare. But … do you really want to take this risk for yourself? Or your loved ones?

Forewarned is forearmed.

A Remark from The Scallion's Editor-in-Chief to our Dear Readers: America seems determined to repeat history rather than learn from it. This wonderful—if sobering—article by Thom Hartmann prophecies in spades what Planet Earth is dealing with when it comes to George W. Bush. The parallels are so exact, it's downright terrifying. Perhaps the only hopeful news is that Germany and the world ultimately survived and triumphed over Hitler and the Nazi movement, but at what cost ...

When Democracy Failed: the Warnings of History

by Thom Hartmann
Published 16 March 2003 on the Common Dreams website: http://www.commondreams.org/views03/0316-08.htm

The 70th anniversary wasn't noticed in the United States and was barely reported in the corporate media. But the Germans remembered well that fateful day seventy years ago -- February 27, 1933. They commemorated the anniversary by joining in demonstrations for peace that mobilized citizens all across the world.

It started when the government, in the midst of a worldwide economic crisis, received reports of an imminent terrorist attack. A foreign ideologue had launched feeble attacks on a few famous buildings, but the media largely ignored his relatively small efforts. The intelligence services knew, however, that the odds were he would eventually succeed. (Historians are still arguing whether or not rogue elements in the intelligence service helped the terrorist; the most recent research implies they did not.)

But the warnings of investigators were ignored at the highest levels, in part because the government was distracted; the man who claimed to be the nation's leader had not been elected by a majority vote and the majority of citizens claimed he had no right to the powers he coveted. He was a simpleton, some said, a cartoon character of a man who saw things in black-and-white terms and didn't have the intellect to understand the subtleties of running a nation in a complex and internationalist world. His coarse use of language -- reflecting his political roots in a southernmost state -- and his simplistic and often-inflammatory nationalistic rhetoric offended the aristocrats, foreign leaders, and the well-educated elite in the government and media. And, as a young man, he'd joined a secret society with an occult-sounding name and bizarre initiation rituals that involved skulls and human bones [Note from The Scallion's editor: Hartmann is referring to Skull & Bones, the pejorative name for the Yale University secret society in which gran-pappy Prescott, pappy George H.W., and fortunate son Duhbya are all members—see http://www.jeremiahproject.com/prophecy/nworder03.html for general information and http://www.wealth4freedom.com/truth/3/skullroster.htm for a very partial membership roster].

Nonetheless, he knew the terrorist was going to strike (although he didn't know where or when), and he had already considered his response. When an aide brought him word that the nation's most prestigious building was ablaze, he verified it was the terrorist who had struck and then rushed to the scene and called a press conference.

"You are now witnessing the beginning of a great epoch in history," he proclaimed, standing in front of the burned-out building, surrounded by national media. "This fire," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, "is the beginning." He used the occasion -- "a sign from God," he called it -- to declare an all-out war on terrorism and its ideological sponsors, a people, he said, who traced their origins to the Middle East and found motivation for their evil deeds in their religion.

Two weeks later, the first detention center for terrorists was built in Oranianberg to hold the first suspected allies of the infamous terrorist. In a national outburst of patriotism, the leader's flag was everywhere, even printed large in newspapers suitable for window display.

Within four weeks of the terrorist attack, the nation's now-popular leader had pushed through legislation -- in the name of combating terrorism and fighting the philosophy he said spawned it -- that suspended constitutional guarantees of free speech, privacy, and habeas corpus. Police could now intercept mail and wiretap phones; suspected terrorists could be imprisoned without specific charges and without access to their lawyers; police could sneak into people's homes without warrants if the cases involved terrorism.

To get his patriotic "Decree on the Protection of People and State" passed over the objections of concerned legislators and civil libertarians, he agreed to put a 4-year sunset provision on it: if the national emergency provoked by the terrorist attack was over by then, the freedoms and rights would be returned to the people, and the police agencies would be re-restrained. Legislators would later say they hadn't had time to read the bill before voting on it.

Immediately after passage of the anti-terrorism act, his federal police agencies stepped up their program of arresting suspicious persons and holding them without access to lawyers or courts. In the first year only a few hundred were interred, and those who objected were largely ignored by the mainstream press, which was afraid to offend and thus lose access to a leader with such high popularity ratings. Citizens who protested the leader in public -- and there were many -- quickly found themselves confronting the newly empowered police's batons, gas, and jail cells, or fenced off in protest zones safely out of earshot of the leader's public speeches. (In the meantime, he was taking almost daily lessons in public speaking, learning to control his tonality, gestures, and facial expressions. He became a very competent orator. [Note from The Scallion's editor: too bad Bush still sucks at this. At least, he'd be easier to watch, if perhaps less entertaining.])

Within the first months after that terrorist attack, at the suggestion of a political advisor, he brought a formerly obscure word into common usage. He wanted to stir a "racial pride" among his countrymen, so, instead of referring to the nation by its name, he began to refer to it as "The Homeland," a phrase publicly promoted in the introduction to a 1934 speech recorded in Leni Riefenstahl's famous propaganda movie "Triumph Of The Will." As hoped, people's hearts swelled with pride, and the beginning of an us-versus-them mentality was sewn. Our land was "the" homeland, citizens thought: all others were simply foreign lands. We are the "true people," he suggested, the only ones worthy of our nation's concern; if bombs fall on others, or human rights are violated in other nations and it makes our lives better, it's of little concern to us.

Playing on this new nationalism, and exploiting a disagreement with the French over his increasing militarism, he argued that any international body that didn't act first and foremost in the best interest of his own nation was neither relevant nor useful. He thus withdrew his country from the League Of Nations in October, 1933, and then negotiated a separate naval armaments agreement with Anthony Eden of The United Kingdom to create a worldwide military ruling elite.

His propaganda minister orchestrated a campaign to ensure the people that he was a deeply religious man and that his motivations were rooted in Christianity. He even proclaimed the need for a revival of the Christian faith across his nation, what he called a "New Christianity." Every man in his rapidly growing army wore a belt buckle that declared "Gott Mit Uns" -- God Is With Us -- and most of them fervently believed it was true.

Within a year of the terrorist attack, the nation's leader determined that the various local police and federal agencies around the nation were lacking the clear communication and overall coordinated administration necessary to deal with the terrorist threat facing the nation, particularly those citizens who were of Middle Eastern ancestry and thus probably terrorist and communist sympathizers, and various troublesome "intellectuals" and "liberals." He proposed a single new national agency to protect the security of the homeland, consolidating the actions of dozens of previously independent police, border, and investigative agencies under a single leader.

He appointed one of his most trusted associates to be leader of this new agency, the Central Security Office for the homeland, and gave it a role in the government equal to the other major departments.

His assistant who dealt with the press noted that, since the terrorist attack, "Radio and press are at our disposal." Those voices questioning the legitimacy of their nation's leader, or raising questions about his checkered past, had by now faded from the public's recollection as his central security office began advertising a program encouraging people to phone in tips about suspicious neighbors. This program was so successful that the names of some of the people "denounced" were soon being broadcast on radio stations. Those denounced often included opposition politicians and celebrities who dared speak out -- a favorite target of his regime and the media he now controlled through intimidation and ownership by corporate allies.

To consolidate his power, he concluded that government alone wasn't enough. He reached out to industry and forged an alliance, bringing former executives of the nation's largest corporations into high government positions. A flood of government money poured into corporate coffers to fight the war against the Middle Eastern ancestry terrorists lurking within the homeland, and to prepare for wars overseas. He encouraged large corporations friendly to him to acquire media outlets and other industrial concerns across the nation, particularly those previously owned by suspicious people of Middle Eastern ancestry. He built powerful alliances with industry; one corporate ally got the lucrative contract worth millions to build the first large-scale detention center for enemies of the state. Soon more would follow. Industry flourished.

But after an interval of peace following the terrorist attack, voices of dissent again arose within and without the government. Students had started an active program opposing him (later known as the White Rose Society), and leaders of nearby nations were speaking out against his bellicose rhetoric. He needed a diversion, something to direct people away from the corporate cronyism being exposed in his own government, questions of his possibly illegitimate rise to power, and the oft-voiced concerns of civil libertarians about the people being held in detention without due process or access to attorneys or family.

With his number two man -- a master at manipulating the media -- he began a campaign to convince the people of the nation that a small, limited war was necessary. Another nation was harboring many of the suspicious Middle Eastern people, and even though its connection with the terrorist who had set afire the nation's most important building was tenuous at best, it held resources their nation badly needed if they were to have room to live and maintain their prosperity. He called a press conference and publicly delivered an ultimatum to the leader of the other nation, provoking an international uproar. He claimed the right to strike preemptively in self-defense, and nations across Europe -- at first -- denounced him for it, pointing out that it was a doctrine only claimed in the past by nations seeking worldwide empire, like Caesar's Rome or Alexander's Greece.

It took a few months, and intense international debate and lobbying with European nations, but, after he personally met with the leader of the United Kingdom, finally a deal was struck. After the military action began, Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain told the nervous British people that giving in to this leader's new first-strike doctrine would bring "peace for our time." Thus Hitler annexed Austria in a lightning move, riding a wave of popular support as leaders so often do in times of war. The Austrian government was unseated and replaced by a new leadership friendly to Germany, and German corporations began to take over Austrian resources.

In a speech responding to critics of the invasion, Hitler said, "Certain foreign newspapers have said that we fell on Austria with brutal methods. I can only say; even in death they cannot stop lying. I have in the course of my political struggle won much love from my people, but when I crossed the former frontier [into Austria] there met me such a stream of love as I have never experienced. Not as tyrants have we come, but as liberators."

To deal with those who dissented from his policies, at the advice of his politically savvy advisors, he and his handmaidens in the press began a campaign to equate him and his policies with patriotism and the nation itself. National unity was essential, they said, to ensure that the terrorists or their sponsors didn't think they'd succeeded in splitting the nation or weakening its will. In times of war, they said, there could be only "one people, one nation, and one commander-in-chief" ("Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Fuhrer"), and so his advocates in the media began a nationwide campaign charging that critics of his policies were attacking the nation itself. Those questioning him were labeled "anti-German" or "not good Germans," and it was suggested they were aiding the enemies of the state by failing in the patriotic necessity of supporting the nation's valiant men in uniform. It was one of his most effective ways to stifle dissent and pit wage-earning people (from whom most of the army came) against the "intellectuals and liberals" who were critical of his policies.

Nonetheless, once the "small war" annexation of Austria was successfully and quickly completed, and peace returned, voices of opposition were again raised in the Homeland. The almost-daily release of news bulletins about the dangers of terrorist communist cells wasn't enough to rouse the populace and totally suppress dissent. A full-out war was necessary to divert public attention from the growing rumbles within the country about disappearing dissidents; violence against liberals, Jews, and union leaders; and the epidemic of crony capitalism that was producing empires of wealth in the corporate sector but threatening the middle class's way of life.

A year later, to the week, Hitler invaded Czechoslovakia; the nation was now fully at war, and all internal dissent was suppressed in the name of national security. It was the end of Germany's first experiment with democracy.

As we conclude this review of history, there are a few milestones worth remembering.

February 27, 2003, was the 70th anniversary of Dutch terrorist Marinus van der Lubbe's successful firebombing of the German Parliament (Reichstag) building, the terrorist act that catapulted Hitler to legitimacy and reshaped the German constitution. By the time of his successful and brief action to seize Austria, in which almost no German blood was shed, Hitler was the most beloved and popular leader in the history of his nation. Hailed around the world, he was later Time magazine's "Man Of The Year."

Most Americans remember his office for the security of the homeland, known as the Reichssicherheitshauptamt and its SchutzStaffel, simply by its most famous agency's initials: the SS.

We also remember that the Germans developed a new form of highly violent warfare they named "lightning war" or blitzkrieg, which, while generating devastating civilian losses, also produced a highly desirable "shock and awe" among the nation's leadership according to the authors of the 1996 book Shock And Awe published by the National Defense University Press.

Reflecting on that time, The American Heritage Dictionary (Houghton Mifflin Company, 1983) left us this definition of the form of government the German democracy had become through Hitler's close alliance with the largest German corporations and his policy of using war as a tool to keep power:

fas-cism (fash'iz-m) n. A system of government that exercises a dictatorship of the extreme right, typically through the merging of state and business leadership, together with belligerent nationalism.

Today, as we face financial and political crises, it's useful to remember that the ravages of the Great Depression hit Germany and the United States alike. Through the 1930s, however, Hitler and Roosevelt chose very different courses to bring their nations back to power and prosperity.

Germany's response was to use government to empower corporations and reward the society's richest individuals, privatize much of the commons, stifle dissent, strip people of constitutional rights, and create an illusion of prosperity through continual and ever-expanding war. America passed minimum wage laws to raise the middle class, enforced anti-trust laws to diminish the power of corporations, increased taxes on corporations and the wealthiest individuals, created Social Security, and became the employer of last resort through programs to build national infrastructure, promote the arts, and replant forests.

To the extent that our Constitution is still intact, the choice is again ours.

Thom Hartmann is the author of over a dozen books, including Unequal Protection and The Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight. This article is copyright by Thom Hartmann, but permission is granted for reprint in print, email, blog, or web media so long as this credit is attached.
Copyright © 2003 Thom Hartmann
Reprinted for Fair Use Only.

Impeachable Bush

June 15, 2003. Blithely accepting and condoning the lies that allowed federally-funded—that's American taxpayer dollars to you and me—homeland security forces and resources to be used to hunt down the private plane Texas Democrats used to flee to Oklahoma to quash the vote on radical, Republican-favoring redistricting in Texas. The fiscal irresponsibility of squandering a nation's budget surplus and, by implementing repeated tax cuts for the rich, plunging the nation's budget into the kind of deficit that Ronald Reagan had wet dreams about. The eventual divestment from federal funding and oversight—and eventual privatization—of every American social service that will result from the fiscal train-wreck effected by the tax cuts: privatization that will price America out of reach for its less-than-affluent working class and poor citizens (how will the survivors cope? Will they learn to lie, cheat, and steal like Bush and his cronies, or will they emigrate to more promising political climes?). Conducting an undeclared war on Afghanistan when most al Qaeda operatives are, in fact, Saudis. Lying to the American and world public about Iraq's weapons of mass destruction to justify an illegal hostile corporate take-over of that sovereign nation. The disenfranchisement and voter fraud that allowed George W. Bush and his radical, extremist junta to assume power in the first place, promoting “democracy” only for the rich white male ... and slavery, gilded at best, for the rest of the world.

Each of these offenses is impeachable. (Unfortunately, the offense of “seeking” peace between Israel and Palestine without forging an alliance with Israel's growing peace movement is not.) Yet, fortunately for the Bush junta, each house of the American government is well and truly held tightly in the clutches of the Republicans—who may not agree 100% with the fascist neocon agenda but who are more than happy to go along for the ride. Thus, for as richly as Bush and his cronies may deserve impeachment, there isn't a snowball's chance in hell that it will actually happen. Sadly, with his fat bankroll and his pinstripe suit of perpetual political teflon, the fortunate son dodges accountability and wins yet again. How much more damage will he be allowed to wreak on America's citizens at home and credibility abroad?

Fox News Welcomes NPR to the Neocon Corporate Media Fold

June 13, 2003. National “Public” Radio, or NPR, recently aired a series on mega-retailer Wal-Mart. While pointing out a minor flaw hither and thither to add a subtle touch of realism, balance, and credibility, the series on a whole painted a resoundingly positive portrait of Wal-Mart as a responsible contributor to the world community despite its obvious tendency to eliminate the diversity offered not only by small, local Mom-and-Pop retailers but, indeed, by any other retailers. The loss of marketplace diversity was masked with a show of “progressive” retail practices as the playing field of manufacturers and suppliers learned, out of desperation and survival, to become far more responsive to Wal-Mart—and therefore, it is hoped, the average consumer—than was ever possible while a plurality of retailers shared the marketplace. Other ugly truths—consistent, recurrent enforcement of unpaid overtime that has resulted in class action lawsuits against Wal-Mart, the company's perpetual failure to pay its employees a living wage, and the reality of uninterested, unresponsive, and ineffective store personnel that “greet” (or is that “avoid”?) all shoppers desperate enough to resort to the low-rent Wal-Mart shopping experience—were all conspicuously absent from the reports.

NPR's newly found motivation to portray mega-corporations in a favorable light has been enthusiastically welcomed not only by NPR's mega-corporate sponsors, like Lockheed-Martin and Microsoft, but also by conservative media outlets like Fox News. To curry favor with its wealthy corporate sponsors—especially the large, well-to-do defense contractors—NPR joined the ranks of the rest of mainstream corporate American media by providing its listeners with the same one-sided, diversity-free, pro-Bush, pro-war coverage as its competitors-come-colleagues. Rather than exploring rational arguments against the invasion, the inconsistencies of the Bush administration's justifications for the invasion, or even the anti-war viewpoints being presented in worldwide non-American media, NPR carefully toed the administration's neo-ultraconservative party line—right down to interviewing the same active duty and retired military officials as the Washington Times, Fox News, and their ilk.

Roger Ailes, acting as spokesman for Rupert Murdoch, offered his remarks on NPR's new status as a conservative, corporate media outlet. “So. NPR had its price—and a bargain-basement deal it was to buy them, too. No more namby-pamby 'Hi, we're NPR. We're independent media.' Now, that's what I call 'happy' news. Another one bites the dust, heh! Not too many independent voices left out there, and a good thing, too. Much easier for our mega-corporate overlords and masters to rule over and control the peasants when every word, every syllable the peasants hear hearkens from a single, unified, undissenting source. Yup, not too many dissenting media outlets left out there. Who's next on His Holiness Murdoch's hit list, you ask? Well, a firm decision hasn't been made yet, but I'm thinking that Pacifica radio, which became an ill-founded thorn in our side as KPFA-FM in Berkley in 1949, is looking mighty ripe for the plucking. Ya hear us, you Pacifica peacenik chickens? We can't wait to PLUCK YOU!”

Like Father, Like Son

June 12, 2003. As a timely reminder of the history America enjoys repeating, Pacifica radio's “Democracy Now!” aired excepts this week of the award-winning documentary, “Panama Deception,” describing America's involvement with the once-sovereign nation of Panama up through (the one and only) President Bush's invasion of that nation, along with its aftermath.

At the earliest stages of American involvement in Panama—when the canal was initially built—the influence was deleterious to the local population. America imported cheap labor from Africa and China to complete the dirty, dangerous work that the French had abandoned. Intermixing of the imported laborers with the native people created a racially-divided underclass that persists today.

America owned and operated the canal in perpetuity until President Jimmy Carter signed a treaty with General Torrijos, giving the canal back to Panama—with the caveat that Panama must maintain the means to protect the canal. In good faith, the General instituted the Panamanian Defense Forces. This historical event set the stage for decades of political intrigue that ultimately lead to the American invasion of Panama on December 20, 1989.

The General was an interesting leader. While he rose to power by the use of repression and force, he instituted real social reforms and became extremely popular with the people before he was killed in a plane crash in 1981. While American media at the time claimed that the plane crashed into the side of a mountain (what, did the pilot somehow fail to see an entire mountain?), observers on the ground reported that the plane exploded in mid-air. Some theorize that the CIA sabotaged the plane to engineer the crash.

Enter Manuel Noriega. His friendship with the American government began in the mid-1960s with a handsomely paid position as a spy and observer on the CIA's payroll. Officials in the Carter administration attempted to remove him from the payroll, but, long before the presidency was a twinkle in his eye, George Herbert Walker Bush not only reinstated Noriega's cushy job at American taxpayer expense, but he gave him a fat raise, resulting in a $100,000 salary in U.S. dollars—worth orders of magnitude more in poverty-stricken Panama. The Reagan and Bush presidencies assiduously overlooked Noriega's increasingly blatant, rampant drug dealings in order to retain access to his information and networks.

The death of General Torrijos paved the way for Noriega, with his fat bankroll, eventually to assume power. Relations with the U.S. remained friendly until Bush decided it was time to take back the canal—apparently, Noriega failed to roll over and play dead. Interestingly, though, the “liberal” media—a collectively obliging Pentagon mouthpiece—breathed not a peep of this: rather, their bleatings soon stuck on the johnny-one-note tune of Noriega's unsavory drug dealings.

These drug dealings became one of the most prominent “official” reasons that the U.S. invaded Iraq—oops, we meant “Panama.” The American military swooped in at midnight on the 20th of December as the people of Panama were preparing for Christmas. American troops bombed, blasted, and obliterated more poor, civilian houses and villages and deployed larger, more powerful weapons—including lasers that could cut people or cars in half, according to eye witnesses—than could be reasonably (or even unreasonably) justified by any stretch of the human imagination ... shock and awe by any other name. And, once Noriega was removed from power, the American government and its military left the injured, homeless peasants to rot—to bury their own, to attempt to rebuild their shattered lives by, it must be imagined, spinning straw into gold ... a real problem when there is no straw to be had. This invasion resulted in a new treaty between the U.S. and Panama—since Panama was also coerced into signing a new treaty stating that it would never again have its own military, gosh golly gee whiz, the U.S. would just have to step in to oversee the canal and “protect” it with its own military.

Ironically, the office, desk, red pajamas, porn, and cocaine that were purported to be Noriega's—and which were thus broadcasted all over the American media upon the man's capture—were reprising their performance from 1973, when the CIA ousted the popular, fairly-elected, socially-minded, leftist Allende. Clearly, the U.S. government preferred the social “reforms” of its own hand-picked clean-cut boy, the rightist dictator Pinochet (refer to http://www.adbusters.org/magazine/39/interventions.html for a list of U.S. “interventions” abroad and, for a discussion of Chile, http://www.thirdworldtraveler.com/Human_Rights/Pinochet.html).

With the sole exception that Saddam Hussein really was a murderous thug, Panama is to Poppy what Iraq is to America's favorite favored son, the Bushbaby.

Like father, like son.

What Will I Dress Up as Today?
By Gee Duhbya Boosh

Well, I guess I was tagging along with Dickie-boy and Rummy too much this week, ‘cause Dickie-boy sent me out of the room to go write this essay on what I want to dress up like today. I tried to tell him the answer was so easy I had it on the tip of my tongue without needing to write no essay: I had so dang much fun playing dress up to be Top Gun that I wanna do that again. But Dickie-boy wouldn’t hear of it—he shooed me out of the room just the same. Maybe him and Rummy will let me wear my Top Gun costume again for the next war. That would really be neat-o cool-o.

But I’m still stuck having to write this blame essay, and now I’m so all-fired hot to play Top Gun again that I can’t concentrate on this assignment. Phooey and double phooey. Mean ol’ Dickie. Dumb ol’ Rummy. Bleah!

Dang it, though, if I don’t get started, I’ll never get finished. Then, I’ll never get outta here, at least not in time for graham crackers and milk and naptime. I especially like naptime. I better get out of here before naptime, or Dickie’s gonna get it—I’ll tell pappy on him, and then he’ll be sorry. Man, I hate essays. Essays suck. I’d write “Dickie-boy sucks” except I’m afraid he’ll actually read this dumb essay, him being so c-a-t smart and all. How many words is this so far? Where at’s that aide with the calcu-mulator? She says it’s 267 words, but that’s only ‘cause I made her include “What Will I Dress Up as Today?” and “By Gee Duhbya Boosh,” Gee Duhbya Boosh being me, of course. I sure hope I spelled my own name right. Maybe Dickie won’t notice. Hey, now I got more words! I could probably write a whole essay just by talking about how many words are in it and how there are more and more words each time you write something. Something. See? There’s another word. This is making me think too blame hard. Now my head hurts!

I better get serious and get started, or else I won’t get credit for this assignment.

OK, let me think.

What will I dress up as today?
By Gee Duhbya Boosh (oops, already said that part)

Well, I guess I could dress up like an astronaut. That would be fun, and maybe they’d let me bounce around in the moon bubble—especially if I don’t barf like I did last time. Boy, Asscroft sure was pissed when I nailed his shirtfront, pants, and wing tips. The expression on his face made it almost worth it but not quite ‘cause I sure felt awful, at least until I threw up. I don’t think Boy-Genius-Turd-Blossom Rove will let me play “astronaut” ‘cause he says that’s not the kind of media focus we’re prioritized on right now, whatever that means. OK, he didn’t say the “whatever that means” part; that’s mine. But still, I don’t think they’ll let me dress up like an astronaut.

I could dress up like a doctor, but then doofy ol' Bill Frist would get pissed. He knows it takes a lot of money (which I have) and talent and hard work (which I don’t have) to become a doctor. Doctors have to go to school for a long time and pass all sorts of tests and know the difference between a brain and a kidney and whatnot. I could never be a doctor, even though it would be really cool. Then again, though, maybe I could be a doctor. I’m sure I could pick a school and get pappy to pay ‘em to make me a doctor. Then, it wouldn’t be like I was pretending to be something I’m not—like P-O-T-U-S President of the United States, but I’m not supposed to mention that part except to say that I AM the FAIRLY and UNANIMOUSLY elected POTUS. So there, you whining liberal pukes.

I could dress up like a cowboy, but that wouldn’t be any fun ‘cause that’s who I am and how I dress every day. Who wants to dress up like what you are? It’s so much more fun to pretend you’re something you’re not! But I wouldn’t want to dress up like an Indian ‘cause then they’d stick me on a reservation, and I’d hafta be poor. I wouldn’t want to dress up like a Black because then I’d hafta have that funny curly hair and be poor. It would almost be cool to dress up like an Oriental ‘cause then I could be smart, but so many of them are commies that I as the POTUS wouldn’t want to be mistaken for one and get strung up for espio … espio … espio … spying. And I sure as heck wouldn’t want to dress up like a woman—do I really need to say why? If I did, this essay could get really really long. But, then, maybe Dickie-boy’d give me extra credit. I’ll hafta ask him about that. But, until he says to do it, I ain’t. I wanna get out of doing as much as I can for this essay. Kinda like being POTUS.

But I digress.

You know what I really oughta dress up like? I oughta put on a diaper and a white bathrobe. Then, I could say I’m a peacemaker, like that Mohawk Gandy fella. Then, I could march into Israel and Palestine and make peace with a wave of my hand. Abra cadabra! Heck, that’d be almost as easy as nuking Palestine outright, which I have almost half a mind to do. Yup, me dressing up like a peacemaker sure would make Turd-Blossom-Boy-Genius Rove happy. But I ain’t doin’ it if it means I hafta go on a hunger strike, I tell you what. No way!

I think the biggest challenge would be for me to play dress up and act like an intelligent, compassionate, charismatic, sophisticated, well-traveled, good-looking person what isn’t perfect but what tries to be fair-minded and moderate. Someone who may have a selfish streak but doesn’t go around trying to rape every less fortunate person—y’know, someone who isn’t a total asshole. But I can’t for the life of me figure out what that would look like.

Hang on, my aide is giving me a hint. Who? Bill Clinton? Even Hillary Clinton?!

AUGHHH!!!

That aide is SOOO fired! But that’s only if I’m in a nice mood. If I’m in an ornery mood, I’ll throw her to Johnny-boy Asscroft.

I’m not in a nice mood any more.

So, where was I? What do I really want to dress up as today? Well, my pappy always told me I could pretend to be anything I wanted to be. And I can’t think of too many things more fun to pretend to be than POTUS, especially Top Gun POTUS.

Geez, I’m getting bored. How many words is this now? Yeah, aide, you can tell me on your way out to get your ass chewed off by Ass Crack. Ooh, 1196 (that’s before the “Ooh, 1196” part. And it still includes the “What Will I Dress Up as Today?” and the “By Gee Duhbya Boosh”). So, what’s the point of this stoopid little exercise?

I guess, if I could dress up to be anything I wanted—aside from Top Gun, darn it—I guess I’d want to dress up as “happy.” Right now, I don’t have the time to be happy ‘cause I’m too busy hating women and Black people and Hispanic people and poor people and gay people and French people and German people and Iraqi people and all sorts of Muslim towelhead people and more than a few Catholic people and snooty European bastard people and most Asian people ‘cause they’re either our enemies or they’re our economic competitors and especially those whining fair-minded liberal puke people … and … and … and ... well, maybe that’s it after all—maybe I’m just too busy hating people and being angry at them and trying to swipe all their lunch money and stuff to have time to be happy. Maybe that’s it. Then again, I don’t hate everybody. I mean, Laura and the ditzes are OK for dumb cunts. They’ll never be great ‘cause they don’t have penises, but at least they’re white. And I outright like pappy and all our rich white male friends. And the guys pappy hired to take care of me in the White House are kinda OK. They at least attack all the Demi-crats and keep ‘em too scared to get into my face, and they do let me play with my toy guns and tanks and my coloring books sometimes. But while all them other non-rich, non-white male people live on the same great green flat Earth as me, I guess I’ll never be truly happy. But that’s gonna take a while for the Project for a New American Century Club to pull off. So, I guess it’s no use to try to dress up as “happy” today. That’ll just hafta wait ‘til the world wears a more homogenous face created in my own image and likeness.

Sorry, Dickie-boy. I didn’t mean to lie when I said I didn’t need an essay to know that I wanted to dress up like Top Gun again today—I mean, not like all those other times that I meant full well to lie my ass off, like “No, officer, I wasn’t drinking before you pulled me over” and “Yes, Mr. and Mrs. America, the entire nation of Iraq IS paved with duhbya-oh-em-dee weapons aimed right at you and yours and itching to be fired up your trembling naked butts.” I think you can tell that I tried really really hard to do a good job writing this essay. Honest (for once). That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

1669 words. OK, now that’s 1671 words, not counting the part about “OK, now that’s 1671 words” or, in fact, this part, either. And it STILL includes the “What Will I Dress Up as Today?” and the “By Gee Duhbya Boosh.” The point is that I’M DONE—and just in time for graham crackers and milk and my wonderful afternoon nap.

The end.
(1732 words. Except for those two, which brings it up to—OH, SCREW IT!)