Miller’s heroes.

We seem to be headed, once again, down that treacherous path that leads to unprovoked war. Would such a course be possible were it not for the willing participation of the major national news media? Indeed, some of the mighty organs of the American press that felt compelled to apologize when the Iraq war rationales they so enthusiastically peddled fell apart are now engaging in the very same sort of behavior that brought on the mea culpas. Like the many politicians who supported this seemingly endless war at the outset, the press is only sorry that Bush/Cheney’s Iraq adventure wasn’t a swift success. The thing they’re decidedly not sorry for is the fact that they helped send thousands to their deaths needlessly. For this, they couldn’t care less. And you can bet politicians, pundits, and Pulitzer-prizewinning scribblers will raise a collective cheer for war with Iran if they see short-term benefit in it.

Still, this time around, the dossier against our potential enemy is pretty weak stuff, even for the New York Times. I mean, background-only briefings on weapons they can only provide photos of? Give me a break. Even the bogus claims about Iraqi WMDs held up for a week or two. This shit didn’t even last a day. Andrew Cockburn had an excellent article about how these “sophisticated” weapons can be built in a machine shop with about $20 – 30 worth of materials, according to Cockburn’s source at the Pentagon. Iraq is flush with the kind of high-explosives that might be used in these improvised devices, versions of which have been employed by the French resistance in WWII, by the IRA, and by Hezbollah during Israel’s 19-year occupation of southern Lebanon. Even NPR pointed out that the claim about Iran supplying these weapons was nothing new and had, in fact, been floated by the administration since early last year.

So… why does this shit make the front page of the Times? Because the prevailing model in mainstream journalism is to take the word of government spokespersons and “senior administration officials” at face value. Often it seems that reporters rely upon these highly placed sources even when it conflicts with the evidence of their own senses. In Iraq, they rely upon official information for just about everything that occurs beyond the boundaries of the Green Zone. So Judy Miller may be gone, but the Miller brigade marches on — next stop, Teheran! And if Cheney is to be believed (as he most assuredly will be in the corporate newsrooms), it will be another cakewalk. Hell, look what a difference the British have made in Basra, eh?

Then again, don’t look. Just take Cheney’s word for it — you’ll find it on the front page.

One Framistat Short

Flashlight. Anti-static wrist band. Screwdriver. Vise-grips. Oscillator. Got everything… except the part we’re installing. Mitch!

Oh, hello. I do apologize. Seems like every time you drop by, I’m hollering something at someone in our motley entourage, and typically that someone is Mitch Macaphee, our resident mad scientist. Sad that Big Green has fallen to such a base level of discourse. I remember the days when… when… excuse me… What the fuck is that noise? Can’t you fucking morons keep quiet for five seconds? Jesus jumping Christ on a bike!! Ahem. Yes… where was I? Ah, yeah. I’ve tried to keep us on a civil track here at the Cheney Hammer Mill, honestly I have. But it’s almost as though an evil spirit has taken hold — the spirit of Cheneys past. It’s nearly… just a minute… I’m telling our valued readers about how much we regret our recent resort to harsh words, you ass-munching dick-head!

All right. What is the bone of contention this week? Well, we’re back to maintenance on Marvin (my personal robot assistant). Mitch Macaphee, Marvin’s inventor, is still nominally on strike over our failure to, well, pay him for his efforts on our behalf. Ergo, we are forced to perform routine and extraordinary repairs on our automatonic cohort without adequate counsel from Marvin’s designer. Well, the shit has definitely hit the fan on this little dispute — Marvin is having serious issues (i.e. problems). I mentioned the thing about watering our mixing desk. Just lately, he’s taken to repointing the bricks on the north side of the mill. This wouldn’t be a problem, except that he thinks “repointing” means ripping the bricks out and filing them into spike-like objects with his atomic hand. Clearly, it was time to operate.

Left to our own devices, Matt, John, and I resorted to what we know best — stealth. We waited until nightfall yesterday, then broke into Mitch’s laboratory and turned up what appeared to be his notebook on the construction of Marvin. It was a little yellowed and dog-eared, but still readable. We paged through the sucker by candlelight, making rough sketches of his diagrams, then studying them at our leisure between mixing sessions. Even a blind man could see that Marvin was suffering from a dysfunctional framastatic conversion unit — it was right there in front of us! So we booked the conference room upstairs (no reservations necessary, since it’s abandoned like the rest of this dump) and prepared to open Marvin up like a pull-tab can of pacific salmon. (Actually, that’s sort of what he looks like inside. Strange. Very strange…)

Of course, now that we have our robot friend sedated, broken open, and laid out on a table, we are confronting our somewhat shameful failure to procure the replacement part necessary to perform this procedure successfully. You see… this is why we need scientists! We know no method! We have no skills! Mitch — get your sorry ass down here, you bugger!

Springtime for Dubya

I guess I’m just supposed to get annoyed at the president — Rove and the boys just love getting a rise out of people like me. Though I hate to encourage them, it is irritating as hell to watch or hear Dubya at one of his press conferences. I mean, there’s something about an obvious idiot talking down to you that is just innately insulting. Then, of course, there’s the scummy substance of what he has to say… like suggesting that he’s only “protecting the troops” when he openly attempts to provoke Iran, thereby pissing off about half of the Shi’a Muslims in Iraq (in other words, 30% of the population). In a country where a majority already supports armed attacks against U.S. troops, how is this a good idea? Then there’s Bush’s speculation about how history will judge us if we “fail” in Iraq — let that happen and future generations will ask, “Where were they?” (Huh?) That’s the boy in the bubble talking… and he’s talking out his ass. We’re the people of the future with respect to his decision to start this disastrous war four years ago. What the hell are we saying right now?

It’s hard to say if Dubya is aware of it or not (there may be no institutional reason why he should be), but there is one narrow sense in which what he says is true. Future “deciders” — those who will inherit the dilapidated machinery of empire that Bush is now driving into the ground — might well deplore the failure of his Iraq project. It has, after all, been a central pillar of U.S. foreign policy planning to exert strong influence over the energy-rich Middle East, going back to at least World War II. So long as the region’s oil remains one of the world’s greatest strategic assets, our commissars will want to exercise control over it if only to maintain the option of denying those resources to our principal economic competitors. Defeat in Iraq — i.e. the U.S. abandoning its plans for a permanent presence and a congenial client state there — would mean a significant loss of influence in that part of the world. High stakes indeed for the imperial mandarin class.

Assuming for a moment that Bush knows this to be true, why would he risk this invasion and how could he have been so blind to the obvious dangers? Well… I think of it as somewhat like the plot of The Producers. I mean, you got Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom just so damn certain that “Springtime for Hitler” was going to be an immediate flop, they essentially bet the store on it. Bush and company had that kind of confidence in the success of their Iraq adventure. Remember, they were coming off of the invasion of Afghanistan (real easy to beat, because it had been blown up numerous times already), and they had the same visions of an easy victory chief executives have dreamed of since Desert Storm… even back to the Six-Day War. A few encouraging words from a drunk named “curve ball” and it’s Fuck, we can’t lose! So now what? Blow up the theater? Starting to look like it.

I know some watery liberals are almost afraid that the “surge” will succeed. They might remind themselves what success looks like. It looks like Fallujah. It looks like Guatemala. It looks like Afghanistan. That kind of success is truly something to fear.

Weird ass music since 1986