Clarence Thomas is A Whore

Yeah. The black guy on the supreme court is nothing more than a shithead little black kid who's ready to runs errands for the rich white man and feel important because he does it. And golly, now the white folks has given him his own blonde whore to fuck. And she's been made an important rightwing whore, helping Clarence to feel like he hasn't just completely screwed his entire race for his own selfish motives.

Really, this guy is an embarrassment. Thurgood Marshall has been utterly dishonored by the Republican right wingers. I don't blame the first Bush, per se. He was just doing what his rich guy handlers told him to do. But I think if he understood what a tool Clarence Thomas was he would never have put that name in nomination.

In any case, it turns out that Thomas is the bought property, the slave boy, to a genial southern millionaire user named Harlan Crow. Mistah Crow is taking care of his boy, Clarence. You can count on that. And Mistah Crow knows Clarence is gonna do what a good boy does for his massah.

And when Clarence Thomas dies and crosses over, the cadre of his ancestors are gonna be there for the reading of his lies, the lies to the rest of us, and the worst lies, the ones he told himself for reasons of ego, power, and money. What a sad, pathetic man he has turned out to be.

But, we really, always knew this. Anita Hill told no lies. And we just didn't listen because it was "partisan". This is what partisan brings us: Shit, masquerading as an important black man. No need to use the n word here; this asshole would be pathetic no matter what culture or race he grew up in.

Thanks to the Lady for Her mercy. May this man find his truth before he dies and has to face the terror that is being confronted by your own lies.

refugees on the unarmed road of flight

Maybe a new post, or maybe just another memory, masquerading as an idea of salvation. Yeah, being saved. That was a long distorted ambition of mine, hooked up, as it were, to sex and sexuality. Now I just long for being truly desired. And this does happen, occasionally.

But what is really in my shadowed consciousness this hour are my friends, my cousins, my lost memories from the sixties. In 1971 my twin cousins, Larry and Leslie Owens, had their existences taken by a weaselly guy who went to prison, but who is out now, having his jolly life at their expense. What happened between them all I don't know, but the fact of the incident is that he drove them to the country, just before they were to leave Texas, and he shot them both in the head, like a cowardly little reptile.

Motive? I don't have a clue. Perhaps he was in love with them. Perhaps he wanted to be them. They were certainly his superiors in every way. My aunt told me to take a record album from their collection, as a momento. And she gave me Larry's boots, which I have to this day. I wore them on stage once, during a performance of Annie Get Your Gun in which I played the minor role, Pawnee Bill. I ended up picking out three records, each with a specific reason: One of them was a country joe MacDonald album that had a song on it about picking up a hitchhiker who turns out to be Jesus. Good mystical stuff. We bought into that in them days. Then there was a Incredible String Band album, Wee Tam and Big Huge, which I also still have. It had this lovely song on it, "Maya", with the enduring lyric, "All the world is but a stage/be thou the joyful player!"

The third record was Bob Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited. When I first acquired this I had bought it at my uncle Laurence's record store in Enid. I took it to the Owen's house and played it on the wonderful Fisher console they had at the time. I could hardly believe there was a song on it that was ten minutes long, and it wasn't even an instrumental ("Desolation Row"). We, the four of us, Larry, Leslie, my brother Greg, and my self, marveled at the impossibly surreal lyrics and then we played the rockin' stuff again, "Like A Rolling Stone." I actually remember the first time I heard Rolling Stone on the radio and kept expecting it to get over and it didn't. I was very familiar with Dylan even then, but being on the AM radio and having it go the full six minutes was a revelation in those days.

I still have this album too, I mean I still have the Twins' copy of it. I also have a dutch copy of it that belonged to my first wife, Becky McGovern who had gone to high school in Brussels, Belgium. I haven't played the vinyl in perhaps twenty years. My daughter Paige burned me an illicit cd of Highway 61 Revisited last year. But I have bought the album at least four times myself. I was about two years older than the Twins. And my bro Greg was just about their age. They all went to college the same year, the Twins to Rice in Houston, and my bro Greg to Washington University in St. Louis.

Greg doesn't talk to me anymore. I have only seen him twice in the last 35 years, both times associated with my parents dying in the mid 1990s, and both times in Wichita. I lived briefly in Los Angeles in the fall of 1982, and I called Greg, but he refused to talk to me. Did we have a falling out? I don't know. Nobody actually told me about it. I remember arguing with him about Noam Chomsky, the weekend my sister Kathy got her Phd at St. Louis University, in perhaps 1974. But I don't remember that as being at all bitter or recriminative. By then I had been married, had a son, and gotten divorced and was trying to go back to college. Greg was already in law school in St. Louis. That's what he does now. He's a lawyer in Los Angeles. But he is as gone from my life as the Twins are. When Herman the Vermin shot my friends, my cousins, that November night in 1971, he managed to cut out a big piece of my life, maybe really most of my early life.

There is always pain associated with those memories now. I can't really let myself return to the family trips to Enid and to those times when they visited us in Wichita. You know what, that completely sucks, and there isn't any wisdom in this recounting. I am unlikely to ever forgive the "boy genius" who chose to end the lives of humans who were clearly more valuable than he would ever be. In a way he just reminds me of Hinckley the sad little boy who tried to kill Reagan. He was trying to make himself important. That's what that kind of murder is really all about. I know he probably felt betrayed and righteous about what he imagined his relationship with Larry and Leslie was, or was supposed to be. A part of me wonders if he was gay and had that hopeless crush on them that gay men would get in those days. My best friend from high school, Tom Bezzi, had that crush on his roommate at Notre Dame, and very nearly killed himself because of it. I wish Herman had had the grace to sink his own boat. But, he so very clearly was and is a loser. When he dies they will be there, waiting for him. Waiting for his explanation. And he will have to feel that shame and sadness. It is there, even now.

Finally, I found the grave of my best friend from grade school, Pat Hotze, on find a grave recently. I knew that he had died. First my little brother, David, the one who still talks to me occasionally, told me he'd seen his tombstone on a walk through Calvary Cemetery in Wichita, where my folks are buried. Then I started emailing with my old friend, Jamey Nyberg, who still lives in Wichita and who, it turns out, was Pat's cousin and had been to the funeral. Coronary Artery Disease. Pat would've been just past 50 at the time. The date on the stone was the end of September, 2001. We all remember what a crappy time that was. The vastness of our fear. The irony here is that the last time I saw Jamey Nyberg in person was the evening in Wichita after having been to Enid to bid my twin cousins adieu, Thanksgiving weekend, 1971.

I give my thanks to the Lady for Her mercy in this dark, uncertain time. I miss you Larry and Leslie. I miss you Brother Greg. I miss Pat Hotze. All important people in my life.

The Mormons are Coming! The Mormons are Coming!

The snarks of current utopian dweebs; that is to say, the first Republican debate of this season. It took place in New Hampshire last night, and despite the large group of people willing to say anything at all to get a chunk of the power cheese, it turns out that Republicans are gooey soft in the center after all. Mitt Romney won the debate, going away, though Michelle Bachman pulled out of the pack as far as the crazy wing of the party goes.

It was always likely that Mitt would be the one seen by the elite as having the best chance to chase the Obama Man from the top of the heap. I truly wonder why that is, but I do think the zeitgeist was promoted Joseph Smith-wise by the crashing success of The Book of Mormon at the Tonys night before last.

Gosh, those darn Mormons! They even let black people in (after 1978, when God rearranged his list of appropriate latter day saints). In any case, it's a Romney romp for the moment. And with Michelle turning out to be good at the debate thing, does this mean that the Queen in waiting, Sarah the P., is done for this round?

It will be interesting to see what Sarah does to try and wrest the diva crown back from Michelle. There's already been a small bit of sniping between the two camps. It is said that Michelle has Iowa already wrapped up. We reserve judgement on that, but nobody around here would be surprised to see Michelle Bachman pull Iowa out of her, well, let's call it a hat.

And so Mitt (how I love that name, so baseball, so foodie, so my name backward!) is taking a big pass on the Iowans. He depends upon those live free or diers in New Hampshire to prove his bona fides. Of course, last time they went for John McCain. Now I have lived in NH and I can tell you that the reason McCain won in 08 is because the independents who can swing either way assumed the Obama had already wrapped up the dem nod and so they voted republican to try and swing the repubs back to the center of things. At that time McCain was viewed as a moderate, even a liberal republican.

Of course, as we all know, after a few months on the campaign trail John McCain devolved into the guy who picked Sarah Palin to take over after his heart attack. That one thing, alone, lost him the election. No matter what the Palinites say, the image of Tina Fey invoking her Queenship's vision of Russia from the front porch wrote cancelled on McCain's final big check. Yada yada, as they say.

So, if it is the Mittster, amid the newly mormoning of america, what does that mean for Barack and the dems? I have to say I would really enjoy that debate, between the cool black dude and the plastic boy from old money. I think Mitt would probably be able to tack to the center gracefully and keep his very Mittness as an asset. Can he win? Too many variables to know.

As a hardcore dem and an early supporter of Obama, I wish the repubs would nominate Sarah Palin, because I think Barack could handle the woman well and would win by a margin, coattails even. But as an american who actually cares about the future (I have two granddaughters and expect I'll have some more down the way), I think I'd prefer a more sober contest. And I do think Mitt actually offers that to the country.

As for poor old Tim Pawlenty. Dude, it was always just a dream. Give it up and keep on moving.

And Newt? What a weiner (yes even more of a weiner than the weiner man himself). Self deluded pretty much to the max. Give it a rest man. Close the pie hole. Go on a diet. Self your wife's jewels and fund an end hunger program in the third world. Be useful. You claim to be a catholic, well, get right with the church's teachings. You are way off base with this pro-rich guy stuff.

I did read somebody this a.m. who suggested that the Donald will run as an independent on his own money. I counter that by saying in reality Donald Trump doesn't have that much money and wouldn't waste it on a run he probably wouldn't win. Once again though, as an Obama supporter and someone who hopes the country has an actual future, I urge the Donald to take the independent plunge. I believe it would guarantee the re-election.

Finally, I'd really hoped that there would be a great deal more range to the republicans this year. But if they are all going to just shuffle and bow to who they think the tea partiers are, then I'm not watching anymore of this show. And then it will truly be over by xmas (yes, even before the actual voting and caucusing). Just keep your eye on the fundraising. Where the money goes, so goes the party. That's republicanism.

Thanks to the Lady for the mercy of a sense of humor in this crazy weird time.

Queen Sarah

Strange mutations of nature: Sarah Palin supposedly asked Donald Trump to run for President. That's according to Trump, of course. Meanwhile Sara's on her vacation around the holy patriotic sites. She rolls up in her bus and stays long enough for pictures. She trots out the kids and makes them pose and when they say can we please leave she ignores them completely.

Sarah Palin is clearly one of the worst mothers as public figure we have ever seen. Contrast Bill and Hilary's daughter with Palin's Bristol.

Also I think Palin isn't exactly running for president. I think she is running for Queen. And why everyone doesn't see this, I'm not totally sure. Her idea of an important person used to be Ivana Trump. That is really who she sees herself as.

But seriously folks, anybody who is or votes republican these days is just not paying attention. Note, I am not saying democrats have it together. I'm saying that they are less damaging then the grand old party. Seriously, two more years of this governance, and then combine it with a Palin presidency and we are in the toilet for sure.

Well, America. What's it gonna be, or you gonna vote to end the American century? Or are we going to decide to make the hard choices and get somewhere.

First the rich have to pay their fair share. And their fair share should be at least three times what it is now. All that money that they have and are hanging on to came from us working people putting in time on the job. It was our money and they took it from us, whether at the gas pump or at the big box store. It doesn't matter. We made that money and they took it from us.

And yes we got something for it. But the only reason they could run their companies in the first place is because we give money to have the union, to have the armed forces, to police the marketplace. And they are not paying the tithe to those entities that is needed to keep the ship afloat.

So if we do keep electing Republicans, in a nostalgic haze, we will have signed the death warrant for our civilization. Of course, that is what the Queen, Queen Sarah, Queen Esther, truly wants. She thinks the Rapture and the Second Coming of JC are right around the corner and it is her duty to do what it takes to bring it on.

Palin believes she is the bearer of God's good news, the end of the world. That she doesn't see her own sins and has no humility simply proves that she can have nothing really to do with Yeshua. At least the Yeshua in the new testament.

If she is really god's instrument, then I am on the other side, no matter what.

Luckily, I know better. I know for one thing that the Goddess isn't coming back to earth. She is already here, right now. And I know that apocalyptic visions are the greedy daydreams of the people who cannot face a world in which they are forced to live in justice with their fellow humans.

Fuck them, I gotta say.

Regards to the Lady Arianrhod for giving us the mercy of a sense of humor.