Red meat.

Looks like Admiral Rove is settling into his new post (job description: save Republican Congress at all costs). You can see the big juicy cultural issues being tossed out in time for November, as fat boy scrutinizes each race, each district, each county for that crucial wedge. Bush’s loopy plan to station National Guard troops at the Mexican border — in conjunction with fences, barriers, high-tech sensors, and unmanned drone aircraft — is a clear gambit to mobilize the “minuteman” vote in these crucial border districts. Congressional races are all about getting the base (and I do mean base) constituencies in action — that’s why we’ll see various draconian proposals aimed at immigration, gays, abortion, and other brain-stem targeted issues. Even with Bush’s ratings in the low to mid 30s, they can still carry the day if they capture the top-of-mind issues in enough districts and get the American Taliban to march zombie-like to the polling stations. Overall turnout in mid-term elections is usually way below even the poor numbers we see during presidential races, so the X-treme voters are far more influential. 

I can tell you, in my hometown Congressional district (the 24th in upstate New York), we are going to witness the most monumental political clash in living memory. Our 12-term Congressman is retiring this year — he’s a “moderate” Republican, though with an increasingly reactionary voting record as his party has swerved drunkenly to the right. The Democrats have an opportunity to pick up this seat for the first time in decades (the last time Utica, NY, was represented in Congress by a Democrat was 1948), and the GOP is desperate to hang onto it… so both parties will be spending like sailors this fall, bringing in the heavyweight political consultants. It’s going to get ugly, my friends, very ugly, and I can already smell the pungent aroma of the porcine Mr. Rove wafting up from the sewers. For a few brief moments, this backwater district will seem like the most important place on the planet… then, after the November vote, it will recede back into total obscurity, all promises forgotten once the hacks have packed up their tents and beat it. 

How do we stay important? Move the whole bloody district down to the Mexican border. There just aren’t enough economically desperate people of color streaming across the Canadian border for the national focus to remain fixed upon us. Not that all that attention is a positive thing — I for one would not want to live near what is increasingly becoming a militarized zone; a kind of Maginot line against immigration (it’s likely to be every bit as effective as the original, too). And another thing (ahem), how are they going to deal with ordering the National Guard to the southwest when so many of them have served multiple tours in Iraq? How are these guards people going to react to the situation at the border after having been shot at for months on end? Is there anything else we can ask of these citizen-soldiers? I mean, for chrissake, we’re giving them yet another mission? Meanwhile, Bush and company are awarding their rich constituents massive tax cuts — that’s their sacrifice. Some give up their lives, while others give up their tax burdens. They also serve who line their pockets. 

Next: the National Guard will be deployed as hood ornaments for the rich. Expect an address to the nation sometime soon.  

What the… ? (Fill in the blank.)

Fill in the blank. (My preference is “fuck”, but don’t let that influence you.) Always the “f” word in this group, eh? Not so unusual. A million and one uses for that storied old English term, and most of them apply to the music business. Nouns and modifiers… sometimes proper names. (Sometimes improper names.)

Anyway, greetings from the streets of Colombo, Sri Lanka — Big Green‘s new “virtual squat house”, now that we’ve been tossed out of the Cheney Hammer Mill. As always, morning finds us scrambling for shelter amongst the curbside artifacts and trash bins. Expect to see us huddled together? Not a chance – it’s every slug for himself in this band. At least that’s the way I felt about it while there was still a relatively congenial spot available to me beneath the flapjack vendor’s stand. Alas, I have been expelled from that sanctuary, as well. Bloody merchants! Now I’m trying to worm my way into my colleagues’ temporary digs. So that thing I said earlier about every man for himself? Not so. Not so.

Now, I don’t want to leave you with the impression that there has been no movement on our efforts towards reparations. As I mentioned last week, our (former) neighbor Gung-Ho may prove to be our ace in the hole, so to speak. So far we’ve had no luck trying to reach him at whatever remote location he’s been hired to invade, but we’ve got our best minds working on it. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has graciously allowed his solar batteries and internal cosmium oscillator to be linked into a makeshift transmitter. (Matt’s on the key now, tapping out “C-Q, C-Q”, just like pops used to. Sometimes Marvin throws in “S.O.S.” for good measure.) Trevor James Constable is using his patented orgone generating device to send distress signals out into the ethers, even though the chances of their attracting Gung-Ho’s attention are next to nil (especially if he has his helmet on). John? I don’t know… I think he and anti-Lincoln are resorting to smoke signals. Either that, or they’re burning an awful lot of Zenite snuff.

It may seem ignoble of us to be calling in for close air support. Why, you may ask, don’t we use the legal process? Why the early resort to violent methods? Well, I’m going to tell you. We Big Green ers are simple folk. We don’t go in for all that fancy legal-schmeegal mumbo-jumbo. Most of us, at least, prefer a more direct message… like blow a big hole in their land office headquarters. (My brother is a bit more attached to the intimidation method – have some goon lean on them, know what I mean? Only goon we’ve got is Big Zamboola, and his intimidating days are definitely over.) Not that we can count on Gung-Ho to do anything particularly rash, but hey… we can ask, right? Doesn’t hurt to ask.

There’s a time limit on this street lifestyle – I’m sure some of you know what I’m talking about. As my photos indicate, I’m getting a little scruffier every day. (You should see the man-sized tuber. Couple of days out in the rain and he starts taking root… and even the pillbox-dwellers can’t take the sight of him.) Come on, Gung Ho!

Connecting the dots.

Well, well. Looks like the NSA has been checking into our phone records and keeping a big fat Orwellian eye on whom we’ve been calling, when, and for how long. Oh, damn! I shouldn’t be writing about this — the mere discussion of any topic detrimental to the Republicans gives aid and comfort to our enemies. So get that straight, people — talk = treason, okay? With the cooperation of their good friends and campaign contributors at Verizon et al, the government is opening your mail and checking out your phone bill… and it’s none of your goddamn business. They just want to know if you’ve been talking to any hardcore terrorists, like — say — the folks at the Thomas Merton Center. It’s a matter of national security, so don’t talk about it or you’ll make Senator Jeff Sessions very very angry. Don’t even think about it — the terrorists will read your mind and take comfort in our lack of discipline. There’s nothing they can’t do, nothing!   

Are you afraid yet? Good. So am I. 

God this is idiotic. I mean, does anyone seriously believe that al Qaeda operatives would never suspect their phone records are being scrutinized unless they read about it in USA Today? In this age of disposable cell phones and calling cards you can buy at your supermarket checkout counter, who the hell would plan terrorist attacks using their household phone? The Democrats are treating this like a privacy issue, but it’s more serious than that. Sure, the notion of the government checking my phone bill is annoying and invasive, but the larger question is what exactly are they looking for? When they vacuum up large volumes of calling data, what makes the NSA connect-the-dot-o-tron go ka-ching!? A call to Yemen? No… ’cause these are domestic calls. Once again, the administration is saying “trust us”, but after all we’ve seen in the last few years, that only recalls to mind the line from Animal House: “Hey… you fucked up. You trusted us.”

We know that they’ve been targeting lawful, peaceful organizing and activism. We know that they’ve been painting animal rights activists as “eco-terrorists” and the like. We know that they routinely engage in “pig-fucking” their political adversaries. What is the big picture here… the elephant in the room? Domestic spying is like a narcotic to the executive branch. Once they start using it, it’s hard to stop. Cointelpro is probably the most glaring example, but it’s not the only one. What we’re seeing may be the outlines of another massive abuse of power by an administration that’s politically on the skids, paranoid, and willing to do just about anything to advance its highly unpopular agenda. That’s not conspiracy mongering — I’m just observing that there is reason for concern. It’s similar to the detainee abuse scandal; the many disparate pieces strongly suggest a unifying policy at its base, one that reflects well established patterns of executive behavior stretching back decades. We were expected to believe that the abuses at Abu Ghraib — taken straight from the CIA torture manuals — were the work of rogue subalterns. Now we’re supposed to believe that opening our mail, listening to our phone conversations, and infiltrating our bridge clubs will make us safer, when all the while they’re failing to meet even the minimum standards for preparedness and prevention identified by the 9-11 Commission and dictated by common sense. 

I confess to being a wee bit skeptical. 

Weird ass music since 1986