Fighting ground.

Okay, let’s get one thing out of the way at the start: very few people enjoy paying taxes. To that I can only add my own personal observation that the people who seem to complain the loudest about taxes are the ones who can most afford to pay them. They have an excellent means of making their complaints heard, too – it’s called the Republican Party. In fact, in service to those who would pay not a single dime more than the historic low rates they’re paying today, the G.O.P. is creating a default crisis out of whole cloth by linking the authorization of additional borrowing to the conclusion of a draconian budget agreement that will gut the essential social programs they have always sought to defund, privatize, etc.

The two things, of course, have nothing to do with one another in the real world. Raising the debt ceiling is merely addressing financial commitments that have already been agreed upon. It is something the Republicans have gladly passed many times before under their own presidents, as well as under Democrats. They have seized upon it because it offers an opportunity to, in effect, put the entire nation up against a wall until we give up on the idea of not spending our elderly years in penury. (That’s sooooo 1960’s of us.) The Republicans see an opportunity here to realize what they could never accomplish during George W. Bush’s tenure – privatization of Medicare, pirating Social Security, and locking in massive tax cuts from now until perdition. And they sense, perhaps correctly, that the Democrats don’t have enough fight in them to stop it.

I will gladly crib Bernie Sanders, Keith Ellison, and Dean Baker on this – Social Security is not – repeat, not – part of any budgetary problem. It is fully self-funding for the next 25 years with no changes whatsoever. How many programs can make that claim? The G.O.P. and spineless Democrats merely want to pirate the fund to pay for extending Bush tax cuts for the richest people in the country. Regarding Medicare and Medicaid, they are single-payer systems dedicated to the elderly, poor, disabled, and stricken amongst us. The rest of us – those who are relatively young, fit, and almost never need a doctor – are reserved for the profit of private insurers. Single payers systems only pay for themselves when everyone – sick and well, old and young, rich and poor – participates in them. If we want to solve the funding problem, we need to decide whether we can continue to afford contriving a profitable market for companies like BlueCross.

In short, the deficit hawks in the Republican caucuses are blackmailing us into funding tax breaks for wealthy people – including the fuckers who caused the financial crisis – by crippling our already inadequate social safety net.  I say, call their bluff. This is ground worth fighting for.

luv u,

jp

Planageddon.

I’m not sure about that, Matt. I don’t know if I want to play that song. How about “Dinos”? No? Are you sure? Okay… you suggest one. “World of Satisfaction”? Naaaah.

Oh, hello. Didn’t notice you peering through that LCD screen. As you can see, we’re working on a set list for our first engagement on Big Green’s [INSERT NAME HERE] Interstellar Tour 2011. No, that’s not a place keeper – that’s the name Tiny Montgomery suggested last week, and none of us has come up with anything better (let alone tried to, you know, insert the name). It’s always kind of a back and forth on the set lists – that’s only natural when you have hundreds of songs. Yes, literally hundreds… all wrapped up in a little box. We take turns, reaching a hand into the box. I’ll read one song title and Matt will knock it down. Then he grabs one and reads it. I’ll say he’s an asshole. Then he throws the box at me. And I’ll yell, “MOM! HE’S DOIN’ IT AGAIN!” And then we’re BOTH in trouble.

Okay, so that’s freaking childish, I know. But not to worry – we always come up with set lists in the end. Then we freaking ignore then, nine times out of ten. No, we’re not affecting an artistic temperament. It’s just that, frankly, it gets kind of dark on the stages we play on, and those lists are just plain hard to read. So we start calling tunes. If we call the same tune twice in a single night, Marvin (my personal robot assistant) issues a loud beeping sound. Chances are we will remember what that’s supposed to mean and withdraw the selection. Hey…. everybody has their process. Ours is surely no less sound than the one used by, say, My Morning Jacket.  (I can’t say, because I don’t know what they do. I’m just picking examples at random – don’t listen to me.)

I’m just noticing how often I use the epithet “freaking”. You all know what I mean. In any case, preparing for an arduous interstellar tour is no picnic, as many of you know. There are songs to rehearse, air tanks to compress, space suits to air out, missiles to hire, maps to download – no end to the punch list. (It’s actually more like a punch and kick list.) Not getting a lot of help, either. Both Lincolns are dead to the world after a night of carousing. The mansized tuber is out in the garden, communing with his little herb-garden cousins. Mitch Macaphee has taken the next two weeks off to attend a mad science conference in Brazil. I feel like the prisoner of freaking Zenda. (There’s that epithet again!)

Not to worry. We’ve been down this bumpy road before, and it’s always come out…. well … bumpy. So be it.

So long, proconsul.

Gates is leaving, but his wars will remain with us, it appears. He didn’t start them, of course, but he was brought in to manage them after they went seriously off the rails. In what I will always consider to be among the clearest evidence of the existence of a permanent institutional foreign policy consensus, Gates was hired to replace Rumsfeld in 2006 when it was obvious that the Bush team’s invasion of Iraq was shaking the American empire to its very foundations. I imagine there was resistance from Bush himself, from Rumsfeld, of course, and from Cheney – they had problems with the Iraq Study Group’s findings and doubled down on their Iraq disaster, but they had lost the confidence of that institutional elite by that time, and the loss of Congress to the Democrats nudged Rumsfeld over the edge. Cheney was effectively sidelined for the remainder of Bush’s second term.

So it goes with empires, I guess. Ours rolled along swimmingly for the last century, gathering steam after World War II, flattening its dissidents, outlasting its main rivals … until we managed to elect a man so incompetent he could, to borrow a phrase, destroy the empire merely by strolling through it. I’m sure to the nation’s imperial board of trustees, George W. seemed a relatively safe bet, particularly with such seemingly reliable minders as Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld keeping an eye on the store. That miscalculation is proving very costly. Just as our attack on Vietnam bled us dry (to say nothing of what it did to the Vietnamese, Cambodians, and Laotians), this past decade of war – coupled with an amazingly irresponsible policy of deep war-time tax cuts – has helped to hobble our economy, perhaps beyond recovery.

Obama should well be celebrated by the ownership class in America. What the hell, he has salvaged the empire, shored up the banking system, shielded the financial managers from accountability. Beats the hell out of me why they would want rid of him, except that they may want an even better deal. He is trying to return us to that proven imperial model of having others fight our wars for us while resorting to a Murder, Inc. strategy for what is now called “high value” targets. Obama may not succeed in that effort, but he’s trying. So Gates will leave, satisfied, I’m sure, that the republic… I mean, the empire is in good hands, his charge fulfilled.

So, farewell, Proconsul Gates. Off to Capri with you, then.

luv u,

jp

Weird ass music since 1986