Poor Tom DeLay

Today’s quote from Tom DeLay, in reference to the publicity surrounding his myriad "alleged" ethics violations:

"It's nothing but a bunch of leftist organizations that have a public strategy to demonize me..."

This, from a leader of the party whose National Committee publicly declared their intent to "Daschle-ize" new Senate minority leader Harry Reid. You remember how the RNC handled Tom Daschle, don’t you? With a series of well-orchestrated attacks and smears, they mercilessly pummeled him into becoming the first Senate leader in 52 years to lose his reelection bid.

I must admit, I’m a little muddled about the ethics violations of which DeLay is accused. Allegations of gift-taking, influence-buying, sharing a bed with big corporate and foreign interests…while these things are illegal, and should be, they smack to me of political business-as-usual. I remember being a young voter in the state of Illinois, where everyone took it for granted that most of the politicians were corrupt, and it didn’t really matter. Under the assumption that corrupt politics were the only way anything ever got done. The behind the scenes machinations of the Chicago Democrats were given blanket pardon under the slogan that Chicago was "The City That Works."

So I think the powers who are out to "get" Tom DeLay are barking up the wrong tree when they start checking off a list of his political no-nos. The American people are just going to yawn and say, "So what?" It doesn’t matter that the things he does are clearly unethical and clearly against the law. They are clearly boring. They are NOT a nice juicy sex scandal that the public can really sink their teeth into. If it doesn’t constitute hiding under beds and exploiting intimate details of private lives with a hypocritical cry of moral indignation, the electorate is not interested. While the democrats were shouting into the wind about Tom DeLay’s political corruption, DeLay was making political hay by jumping into the middle of the Terry Shiavo battle. Which strategy netted more on-camera time for the cause?

More concerning to me is DeLay’s virtual declaration of war on "an arrogant, out-of-control, unaccountable judiciary that thumbed their nose at Congress and the president." What exactly makes them out of control…the fact that they demonstrated they had not yet been stocked with sufficient Bush Administration appointees to come to heel on a "right to life" case with which Congress and the President had absolutely no business, or legal right, to interfere?  Apparently, the GOP wants the courts completely under their control. Democrats approved over 200 of the administration’s first-term nominees, while blocking only ten of the worst. Why has the blocking of ten judicial nominees by the minority party become such an issue that it has caused unprecedented action by the majority party? A vendetta against the Senate Minority Leader that cost him his job; the majority leader of the House making not-so-veiled threats against the judiciary; and Senate Republicans considering the "nuclear option" of taking away the minority party’s right to exert last-ditch control on a runaway senate with the filibuster.

One has to wonder, to what degree is the Republican Party at large invested in targeting the judicial system for a wholesale takeover by conservative interests? And why? Are we expected to believe that the GOP has become so drunk with power that they would fly into such a large-scale rage at such a small-scale defeat? Some of us may swallow that…but the rest of us are left to wonder what is really at stake here. What is so important about these last ten judicial nominations that the party would go to such lengths to assure their confirmation? And why are the American people NOT asking these questions?

If Tom DeLay goes down, it shouldn’t be for some amorphous political double-dealings for which the general population is too apathetic to hold him accountable. It should be for his "arrogant, out-of-control, unaccountable" attitude toward a constitutionally ordained branch of our government, which was created as part of the checks and balances built into our system by our wise founding fathers; not to be at the beck and call of the Executive and Legislative branches, but to serve as a balance against that power, real or assumed. And if DeLay's attitude is shared by the bulk of the Republican party, they should all go down with him.

Bloglines Alert

You may notice that I replaced my coveted journal award graphic with a "subscribe with bloglines" sticker.  It is a hyperlink.  Click on it, and you will be transported to the wonderful world of "Bloglines," where you can create a list of all the blogs you read, and be notified when those blogs are updated.  Rather than relying upon the maddening uncertainty of the AOL Alerts system.  Which, by the way, did not send out an alert for my most recent entry, pulled mere moments ago out of my sleepless brain.  Read the entry, if you've a mind, and then go to "Bloglines."

New Wheels

Good Lord…I’m experiencing one of those times when I’m so tired I can’t sleep. Husband and I decided tonight would be the night to jump back on the water aerobics bandwagon. I haven’t been to the pool in almost a year. I’m here to tell you that, at my age, you don’t just drop an exercise program for eleven months, and try to pick it up again exactly where you left off. I will be lucky if I can hoist myself out of bed at all in the morning. Which I am being called upon to do at 5:00 am tomorrow, as I am slated to drive husband to work, so that I can pick him up from work, so that we can then drive up the gorge and pick up our new (to us) means of transportation.

Oh, boy, a new vehicle! I’d be lying if I said that my dream car is NOT a BMW Z4. Or at the very least, a classic 1955 T-bird…the one with the spare tire stuck on the back of the trunk. The ecology-conscious side of me covets a Toyota Prius. So, what is my "new" ride going to be? A Dodge Ram 3500 dually, with a big, herkin’, noisy diesel engine. Not exactly the car of my dreams…

Before you go getting all green-house gassed at me, let me just remind you that my chosen livelihood demands that I tow a 10,000 lb. trailer up and down the highways and byways of northwest Oregon. Which I have been doing with a one-ton van with a gasoline engine; getting, if I’m lucky, five miles to the gallon. Eleven at the most without the trailer. This sadly plain-looking pick-up truck we are purchasing (it’s white, for God’s sake L ) will get double the gas mileage empty, and at least triple the mileage—18 mpg—towing the trailer. So this is one of those times when the purchase of something that appears to be a gas-guzzling monster, is really the ecologically (and economically, with the price of gas swiftly approaching the per-ounce price of gold) responsible choice.

So, tomorrow evening I will be rumbling home in my new pick-up with the engine that is loud enough….well, I was going to say loud enough to wake the dead, but since my neighbors ARE dead, I won’t go there. No naked lady mud flaps or pissing Calvins for this beast, though. I will make it a point to find two or three examples of vehicular poetry comparable to the "I’m Straight But Not Narrow" and "Regime Change Begins At Home" stickers I have on the van. It amuses me to personalize my ride into cognitive dissonance on wheels. Cruisin’ down the freeway with my liberal bumper stickers and Secret Garden reverberating from my killer sound system… This jalopy just begs to be called "The Hot Flash," doesn’t it?

Hold the Goodbyes

The ranks of old AOL journalers, the ones who have been with it from the early days, are continuing to dwindle. In the last two weeks, two of the very few journals I read were abruptly mothballed by their authors. Many of the most prominent people on the original scene are long gone…moved on…ran out of things to write about…decided they were too invested in journaling and went back to their "real" lives. Played with the toy, tired of it, and tossed it aside.

My own journal experience has been one of ups and downs. The up of realizing that for the first time I was writing stuff that other people were actually going to read. The down of feeling I’d lost my voice in an attempt to lure and/or please those readers. The high of discovering the unimagined benefit of becoming part of a community. The low of realizing that the community was as inconsistent as the ether it was built upon.

But through it all, blogging, journaling, call it what you will, has been a tremendous rebirth for me. It rekindled my ardor for the written word. Though I had never really stopped writing since scribbling my first independent (non-school-assignment) story when I was about thirteen, my writing had degenerated to a form of self-psychiatric-treatment. During the hardest times of my life, writing was simply a form of venting; penning the circular answers to the unanswerable questions with which the act of living had filled my head to the point of bursting. Written by me, for me. Though a spark of desire to once again put the written word back to the work for which it was intended—communication with other human beings outside myself—always remained alive deep inside my soul.

Posting my first several journal entries, the ones that nobody but me ever read, I despaired that I had lost "It." The gift, the zeal, even the language…all buried under decades of selfish, inward prose that did not have meaning to anyone but me. But as I immersed myself in the blogging experience, I swept away those layers of mold, rot, dust, and cobwebs. Reading and thinking about the other voices out there, I rehabilitated my own long-disused tongue. As the weeks and months went by, I polished my skills. Remembered how much I loved to write. Remembered that I actually do have a talent for it. Wondered how I ever could have let myself get so far away from it.

I’m left to believe that we who remain here on the journal scene after the eighteen-month "honeymoon" period, are those of us who, on some level, are serious writers. Some published, some not, some whose writings will never see print beyond the world of the blog. But all of us are people who have something to say and feel most drawn, most fulfilled, putting our thoughts on paper, even if only virtual paper. I don’t see myself giving that up any time soon. And I hope there are at least a few more die-hards out there that are going to stay here with me.

On Pope John Paul II

Last week, a quiet suburban girl, who without her knowledge or consent, had become a flash point for opposing sides in an epic battle of right-to-life vs. right-to-die, passed from this life. Two days later, a very public figure for whom the moral imperative was always crystal clear—that human life is sacred and must be valued, maintained, and encouraged at any cost—also ended his earthly sojourn. It was an interesting twist of history that these two lives ended in such quick succession.

Far along on the journey down his own final road, Pope John Paul II pronounced his condemnation of the progress of the Shiavo case. Sick, failing, too weak to breathe on his own or consume enough nourishment to keep himself alive, did he take to his bed and attend to the business of his own death? No. He knew that, until he drew his last breath, he was charged with interpreting to his followers, and to the world, what he believed to be the mandate of his God. Not with saying what was politically expedient. Not with framing an opinion that would be most acceptable to the increasingly strident progressives of his flock, or the world at large. Among all the accusing, sanctimonious, condescending, screaming, angry, anguished voices swirling around Terri Shiavo’s drama, John Paul’s was the one with the purest moral intent. Agree or disagree with any stance he took. But it was always consistent, never hypocritical, never formed with the intent to curry favor with any person or faction. Always based on what he held to be the value the Lord Himself put on human life, or the code that he believed God had set forth for human beings to follow.

How many prominent figures in the world today, political or spiritual, could approach his purity of motive and singleness of purpose? How many twentieth century leaders have shown the humble devotion to their followers, the overriding concern for all people, the pure love for humanity that drew the poor and the powerful to sit at his feet? A truly holy man died yesterday. The world was greatly blessed by his life, and is severely diminished by his death.

She Has Gone

The first headline to hit my eyes this morning was "Terri Shiavo’s Sad Story Ends." The words "Thank God" involuntarily escaped from my lips. Now that poor girl can stop being yanked back and forth like a broken rag doll between her husband and the courts, and her parents and the politicians. Unfortunately, with Michael Shiavo promising an autopsy on his wife’s long-suffering body, to disprove allegations that he physically abused her into her "persistent vegetative state," I’m afraid this story has not quite come to the end of its fifteen minutes. More’s the pity.

Unlike other political/media circuses of recent years—the Clinton-Monica debacle, the OJ trial, Princess Diana’s death---the Terri Shiavo drama brought some very important issues into the foreground of American consciousness. Issues that will probably touch every family in some way, some day. Unfortunately, our media, our government, the crowds of shrill demonstrators, and even the principles involved, proved that they had no idea how to handle such important issues with the gravity, diplomacy, and thoughfulness they demand. What does this say about us as a society?

Bon voyage, Mrs. Shiavo. I hope that what awaits you on the other side is all the more special for the incredibly long road you traveled to get there.

 

My good friend Jackie, of Pixels, Politics, Posies, and Pussycats, (and my real life)   makes more sense of this than I have in her post today.  It's very much worth reading...

Ten Things...

Lately, some journal writers have been terribly concerned about what their writing has revealed about them.  Whether it has painted a picture of the real person, or only shown one, perhaps not too beautiful, aspect of that person.  I think sometimes my writing paints me as melancholy and "holier than thou."  Though there is a certain amount of truth in this, there is a little more to me than that.  So just to prove that there are aspects of my life with which I am content, I thought I would compose this list of 

Ten Things For Which I Am Eternally Grateful

1. …that cat puke doesn’t share the olfactory characteristics of human puke, or I would be spending a lot of my time with my head in the toilet.
2. …that way back in 1981, husband and I had the incredible wisdom to purchase a brand spanking new SR5 Toyota pick-up, which continues to spring to life the minute (almost) you turn the key in the ignition. It looks like hell, but it will never die. That truck will probably transport us to our fiftieth wedding anniversary party.
3. …that in the fifth house we’ve owned in our married life, I finally struck paydirt, and got my 330-sqare foot master bedroom with a fireplace and a walk-in closet. Notwithstanding the fact that it has become the repository for every piece of furniture that didn’t fit anywhere else in the house, and appears to have been decorated with Antiques Road Show rejects.
4. …for the set of Corning Ware I received as a wedding gift, of which I still have most of the pieces, and which I still use almost daily. It is totally seventies mushroom print, but short of taking it outside and smashing it on the driveway, I haven’t figured out how to kill it so I could buy something more twenty-first century. So the venerable old mushrooms faithfully ferry my eggbeaters into the microwave every morning.
5. …for pellet stove "technology," that gives me a warm, cheery, flickering fire without dirt, spiders, mildew, and the general mess of dealing with wood. Not to mention the early morning calisthenics of hacking into the woodpile to turn huge chunks of tree trunks into something fit to use as firewood. Now, all I have to do is rip open a bag of rabbit pellets, pour them in the hopper, and hit the "on" button. Instant fire. Does it get any better than that?
6. …that I live in the most beautiful state in the country. One hour from the incredible Oregon coast on one side, and the "ring of fire" on the other. Sunsets, pyrotechnics, soaring eagles, snow in summer, paddle-wheel riverboats, dawns, ice cold trout pulled from ice cold water, hermit crabs, dogs on endless beaches, rolling hills upholstered with acres of grapevines, hundred-foot waterfalls, the world’s largest *name the tree*, hummingbirds, rose gardens, sandhill cranes and whistling swans, rain forest and high desert, and on and on and on…
7. …music. Symphonies, "mid-century" oldies, new age classical, big band swing, Broadway or Hollywood musicals, native American flute… I don’t believe the minds and hands of mere humans are responsible for the glory of music. It is the one nearly undeniable proof of a Great Spirit.
8. …that television remote controls include a "mute" button. And an "off" button.
9. …that somewhere, somehow, in some long ago, far away desert dwelling, some human being looked into the beautiful, inscrutable eyes of a cat, and felt compelled to extend that marvelous animal the hospitality of sharing his abode.
10. …that thirty years ago, less a couple of months, a nineteen-year-old mustachioed, mutton-chopped hottie with aviator glasses and long straight brown bangs hanging over one eye, sauntered up to me and handed me those spectacles, saying, "Hold these for me, will ya?" before bravely (drunkenly?) sallying forth onto the volleyball court at a K-Mart company picnic at Fort Sheridan, Illinois… And all that came after.

The Path

I took this picture two weeks ago when we took a long weekend trip to the coast. I was enchanted with the path, and I’ve been particularly fond of the picture. I thought it was just something about the composition, the light and shadow, the lines, that drew me in; things that my artist’s eye finds pleasing, but that I couldn’t explain in technicalities if you paid me. I like the picture so much that I’ve made it my wallpaper on my computer desktop. Giving me the opportunity to look into it every day, many times a day.

On Friday, I posted an entry in my private journal that spoke of my current state of being somehow separated from the rest of the world. As I will often do, I’ve gone back and read that entry several times… And in my mind, a connection began to develop between the words and the picture. And I realized that this is what has drawn me again and again to the photograph. "
The general theme of my life has always been one of separateness. For whatever reason…probably just because I was born that way…I have lived, and have been content to live, 75% of my life inside my own head. People have come into my life, visited for awhile, and gone away. Rarely large groups of people, but ones and twos. And I have been happy to have them, while they stay. I haven’t driven them away…at least not intentionally. Obviously there must be something that I’m doing, or not doing, that makes people lose interest and move on. Probably it’s the very fact that I DO live 75% inside my own head. But I can’t seem to help that…
"
So now I’m mostly alone. As isolated as I’ve ever been. And likely to stay that way, with no school or job or social outlets in which to cultivate new relationships. The husband, of course, is still hanging in there, and thank God for that. But, the funny thing is, while I feel odd spending so much time alone, I’m not nearly as unhappy as I would expect to be. I worry that my life is a little unfocused and a tad superfluous at the moment. I’m not accomplishing anything, or really even staying busy. And I’m mindful that my days are getting shorter, and I hate to think that I’m not living them to the fullest. But, I don’t know…I don’t hate my life. I know I need something, but I’m not desperate for it…at least, not most of the time. I almost feel as if I’m in a lull just before something really big is going to happen. Like I should take advantage of this time of peace and solitude because it’s not going to last too much longer. I’m even starting to lean toward not feeling so guilty about not doing anything. I worked my ass off for a lot of years. Maybe I deserve this time of freedom. I’m not hurting anybody. We’re not going broke…and I don’t feel guilty having the husband work while I do not. He would be lost without a job. He’s doing what he wants, and I’m doing…well, not what I want, necessarily; but maybe what I need."
There is a quality to this "separateness" that does not feel melancholy or forlorn. It feels more like a peaceful, solitary walk, surrounded, sheltered in a lovely tunnel. A tunnel that shows me glimpses of unimaginable beauty to the right and left, but keeps me walking forward to the real prize that awaits. I am completely free to stop and look at the views along the way, but I have the sense that these are only tastes of the reward at the end. If you’ve read my sidebar, you know I’m not speaking of heaven or some glorious eternity. As an agnostic, I have no opinion on these things…I neither believe, nor disbelieve. No…what’s ahead for me is in this life, and it’s good and beautiful. And I will get there if I just keep walking.

As The Circus Drags On....

 

The right wing has adopted a philosophy over the last score of years or so: If something doesn’t go your way, you stand a pretty good chance of changing the outcome if you just keep pounding away at it, bullying and threatening, until the other side either tires of the fight and gives up, or lets down its guard enough for you to ram home the fatal blow. Respect for opposing opinions, the will of the majority, or even the rule of law has no place in their agenda. If an election, a court ruling, or a board decision doesn’t go their way, they believe they have the right, indeed, the duty, to use any means—legal or not—to reverse it. They invoke the law and government when it suits them, and subvert it when it doesn’t.

As the Republican Party has cozied up to the right, it has adopted the same philosophy. And it has served them well. They hounded Bill Clinton’s presidency to death. They changed the outcome of the 2000 presidential election. They nearly ruined John Kerry during the 2004 election with their determination to turn his record of Viet Nam heroism against him. Is it any wonder that they now believe they hold the Godlike powers of life and death in their own hands?

The judicial branch fell into bed with Republican interests once before—in the debacle following the 2000 election. So you can’t really blame right wing Republicans for believing that the courts were now their own personal little lap-dog. Unfortunately for the GOP, it looks like the nation’s courts are working to disabuse them of this notion. Republicans seem to have failed to take into account how jealous each branch of government is of their own set of powers, and woe be to the branch that steps over the line to trample upon the powers of another. The courts, for the most part, understand what their job is, and they don’t take too kindly to the legislative and executive branches trying to exert, shall we say, "undue influence" upon how they do their job. It is to be hoped that they will remain steadfast in their dedication to do their duty as the Constitution of this country has charged them to do it. If they waver, this country is indeed doomed. We should be grateful that there is a body of our government that is charged with protecting our interests without regard to whether they will be re-elected for another term. Leaving politics, to the extent that they can, out of the picture. Yes, there are right-leaning judges, and left-leaning judges, and corrupt judges. But, for the most part, I believe our judicial branch takes its mission very seriously, and strives to make impartial decisions based on the law and the Constitution, and not on current political imperatives.

As such, the courts are remaining consistent in their rulings on the Terri Shiavo case. For the decade that this litigation has been dragging on, the courts have consistently sided with Michael Shiavo. They don’t appear inclined to do otherwise, though Terri Shiavo’s parents are coming up with more and more outrageous points to argue for keeping her alive. Including that allowing her to die would be a mortal sin, and would put her immortal soul in jeopardy. How could they possibly believe that a federal court would touch that issue with a ten-foot pole? I feel sorry for them, I really do. They obviously cannot accept their daughter’s fate and move on. They keep claiming that the doctors are wrong, she’s NOT in a "persistent vegetative state," and that she could "get better" with therapy. They have not accepted, even after fifteen years, that she is what she is, and if they keep her alive, she will be what she is until she dies. If they win, and the feeding tube is reinserted, are they then going to take her home and care for her? Have they got an army of practitioners waiting in the wings to start this miracle therapy that is going to make their daughter better? Are they going to take full responsibility for her? Or are they going to polish up their moral victory and put it in a prominent place on the mantel, while their daughter stays where she is, as she is, on the state’s dime?

And what about the husband? He’s been fighting for her "right to die" for longer than he must have known her as a living, vital, loving partner. At what point do you say, "Honey, I tried my best to do what I thought you would want, but it’s time to let it go. I’m still a young man, and I have to get on with my life." I just can’t help but believe that the fight has become about the fight, and not in any way about what is, was or will be best for Terri Shiavo.

So the struggle rages on, while Ms. Shiavo lingers in a Florida nursing home, her "right to die" being protected, at least temporarily, by our nation’s courts. An advocate for the parents, stationed outside, told reporters, "This is not death with dignity. If Terri were an animal, she would not have to endure this." Very true. If she were an animal, she would have been "put out of her misery" years ago. No, Reverend, do not ask that we treat each other as well as we treat animals, if your stand is that human life must be retained at any cost…

How this must be torturing the right wing faithful! Not Terry Shiavo’s imminent death…but the fact that their tried and true method of politicizing personal tragedy, threatening and beating up politicians, and trampling all over everyone’s rights but their own, has not brought them victory. This will be a new experience for them, to be sure. A lesson maybe they have needed to learn for a long, long time.

My Pearl is Blooming...