I promised Huple that I would be more concientious in blogging more than once every year. But, like buying cat food on a regular basis, I have been remiss. I will try to do better. My involvement in "Facebook" has shown me that they cut me off after so many letters; so if I want to go on and on about my bitch de jour I have to retreat to my blog. My last line of defense. The Alamo.
With my children starting a new semester of college, I recall that many hours in lecture halls were wasted moments better spent drinking coffee, feeling self-important, or getting high. However, occasionally a lecture was memorable. Above all the lectures I sat or dozed through, Dr. Vierney's final lecture in Western Civilization, (M-W-F, 9:30 am-10:20 am, University of Arizona, 1973-4), has stuck with me over the las 25 years. At the end a two semester survey of western history, the old professor put his notes aside to issue a warning to his students. He devoted the last ten minutes of his class to a brief summary of the Cold War fear of communism; a destructive paronia destroying thought and freedom in our country. He argued that the threat is not from the left-but the right. He suggested that the great menace to our country would come from flag-drapped patriots, aided by poorly educated and bitter lower-class whites, flying the false flag of nationalism; ill equipt to comprehend complex issues.
Dr. Vierney warned us that America has facist tendencies. I have been on the watch ever since that lecture in May, 1974. The old guy called it right.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Friday, June 15, 2007
Meanwhile...
It seems like months ago rather than yesterday that I last worked here. Frankly, Huple and I have had a long standing dispute over the venetian blinds in the bedroom. It has led to a frostiness in our reltationship which precludes political discussion. However, during a recent truce we had the opportunity to conclude our discussion of Iran's desire for WMD. Huple maintains your average cat is a peaceful beast, but warns of turning a back on a Persian. Siamese can be two faced, but Persians are in your face. My cat fears their emotion.
Although it is a photo-finish as to which country has the goofiest president, both the US and Iran are ruled from forces behind the scenes. In Iran a rather scary fellowship of Islamic elders really call the shots. But we know who they are. Here we don't know who really runs the railroad. I am confident, though, that a board of directors is less likely to lead us into an a apocalypse than a group of medieval church types. This, then, is my argument for preventing Iran WMDs... anyone who believes in the apocalypse is capable of creating it.
Rather a venal military dictator counting on offshore accounts with numerous mistresses and uncalcuable human rights excesses than a handfull of zealots banking on the hereafter for their numerous mistresses. Only people rooted in todays' pleasures will preserve the status quo, i.e. not blowing up the world on a centuries old promise. This is what is most worrisome about George Bush-when he became born again he lost all temporal pleasure save riding around in big, shinny airplanes. Rather a drunk than a true believer, I say.
Although it is a photo-finish as to which country has the goofiest president, both the US and Iran are ruled from forces behind the scenes. In Iran a rather scary fellowship of Islamic elders really call the shots. But we know who they are. Here we don't know who really runs the railroad. I am confident, though, that a board of directors is less likely to lead us into an a apocalypse than a group of medieval church types. This, then, is my argument for preventing Iran WMDs... anyone who believes in the apocalypse is capable of creating it.
Rather a venal military dictator counting on offshore accounts with numerous mistresses and uncalcuable human rights excesses than a handfull of zealots banking on the hereafter for their numerous mistresses. Only people rooted in todays' pleasures will preserve the status quo, i.e. not blowing up the world on a centuries old promise. This is what is most worrisome about George Bush-when he became born again he lost all temporal pleasure save riding around in big, shinny airplanes. Rather a drunk than a true believer, I say.
Friday, January 26, 2007
What a Question!
Last night during our wee-hours pillow talk, Huple the Cat posed a serious question. Instead of the usual inquiries ("Have your seen my mouse thingy? Are my claws too dull?,") Huple asked, "What's up with Iran?" I admit I was not prepared for a 2am geopolitcal investigation instigated by an animal with a brain the size of a testical. On the other hand, if the C.I.A. and N.C.S. can do it, so can I.
"Well, little fella', " I began, "It's like this..."
The Argument for Iran.
As American gun owners and every Frenchman understands, nobody can tell you what to do. This is particularly true when a person perceives an imaginary or real threat. Currently Iran is bracketed east and west by an American presence in Afghanistan and Iraq. Had Iran overthrown the governments of Mexico and Canada and deployed hundreds of thousands of troops to establish an Islamic theocracy, would anyone blame the United States if it "nuked-up?" I doubt it. Considering recent shared history between the U.S. (The Great Satan) and Iran (Axis of Evil) it should not surprise that Iran would be looking in the bed stand drawer for a weapon. And why shouldn't they? Bellicose statements by the administration have pointed a finger at Iran claiming it the single greatest threat to peace. Having previously used the same finger on Afghanistan and Iraq, with dramatic results for the local population, it is no wonder that the government in Tehran is seeking any deterrent necessary to curb the rhetoric and to dissuade preemptive adventures. To the honest American, if your neighbors on both sides suffered a home invasion, would you be condemned if you purchased a piece? No, you have a responsibility to your family to protect them. The same can be said of the government of Iran.
I will offer an opposing view tomorrow.
Go to sleep, Huple.
"Well, little fella', " I began, "It's like this..."
The Argument for Iran.
As American gun owners and every Frenchman understands, nobody can tell you what to do. This is particularly true when a person perceives an imaginary or real threat. Currently Iran is bracketed east and west by an American presence in Afghanistan and Iraq. Had Iran overthrown the governments of Mexico and Canada and deployed hundreds of thousands of troops to establish an Islamic theocracy, would anyone blame the United States if it "nuked-up?" I doubt it. Considering recent shared history between the U.S. (The Great Satan) and Iran (Axis of Evil) it should not surprise that Iran would be looking in the bed stand drawer for a weapon. And why shouldn't they? Bellicose statements by the administration have pointed a finger at Iran claiming it the single greatest threat to peace. Having previously used the same finger on Afghanistan and Iraq, with dramatic results for the local population, it is no wonder that the government in Tehran is seeking any deterrent necessary to curb the rhetoric and to dissuade preemptive adventures. To the honest American, if your neighbors on both sides suffered a home invasion, would you be condemned if you purchased a piece? No, you have a responsibility to your family to protect them. The same can be said of the government of Iran.
I will offer an opposing view tomorrow.
Go to sleep, Huple.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Initial Offering
Greetings!
This space is devoted to items that smother me in the small hours of the morning. Actually, it is my new kitten loafing on my face at 3:30am which goads me to introspection. Nothing spurs speculative insomnia better than a mouth full of fur and years of guilt. I blame the kitten. And the animal pays. I drew a bulls-eye on the wall, and no matter the volume of purr or width of eyes, attempt to place the beast withing five feet of the target. Since my apartment is made of dry-wall the results are not as spectacular as I intend. However, frequently I miss wide and strike door-jam. Before you condemn me remember- I'm cat-putting in the dark.
This space is devoted to items that smother me in the small hours of the morning. Actually, it is my new kitten loafing on my face at 3:30am which goads me to introspection. Nothing spurs speculative insomnia better than a mouth full of fur and years of guilt. I blame the kitten. And the animal pays. I drew a bulls-eye on the wall, and no matter the volume of purr or width of eyes, attempt to place the beast withing five feet of the target. Since my apartment is made of dry-wall the results are not as spectacular as I intend. However, frequently I miss wide and strike door-jam. Before you condemn me remember- I'm cat-putting in the dark.
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