Demos: The Hand That Feeds

I know using a Nine Inch Nails song is passe on the internet, but I'm listening to a stripped down remix of the song, in which there is a light, ambient noise and piano as Mr. Reznor's only accompaniment. (Plus, With_Teeth wasn't good anyway.) There's also a bit of overlap. This one is about John McCain and who was feeding him when and with what.

I respect the man's service in uniform. I just hope he stops keeping the Republican party line, the one that ruined and tarred him with divisive and insulting race-baiting politics not to mention tying Sarah Palin to his ticket and political fortune. Like most other soldiers that Bush commanded, he also was used and led to ruin. It's just more clearly visible here.

If this inspires you to do anything, I hope it inspires you to look up more information on PTSD treatment for Iraq War veterans, because when they get home, they're going to find a host of problems (mental and emotional) waiting for them on this shore.

And that's assuming they can get a job.



There's something that rubbed me very wrong about Senator John McCain's comment about the $800 billion taxpayer bailout, which he called generational theft.

It's a poor choice of words. Admittedly, it's politics as usual—using overly emotional language to discuss something that is as serious as a heart attack and requires careful attention, which a shot to the gut (of which that imagery strikes) doesn't help.

Personally, I'm of the opinion that the Republican plan of 60% tax cuts versus 40% spending is the wrong way to go. Over the last eight years, we've had quite a few tax cuts and they haven't gotten us very far. I'm in favor of spending a lot of money, but it has to be directed not to one and done jobs (à la construction, see Japan in the 90s) but to industries that have a clear, long term sustainable trajectory.

What McCain means, I believe, is that the money was borrowed from future generations, for us and others to pay back. Which, while accurate, is incredibly callous. It's callous because the resources of my generation have already been plundered, and will never be repaid. That was when all those brave senators stood up and voted to authorize war in Iraq. McCain didn't seem to mind "generational theft" when it was his hand in the cookie jar of my youth.

McCain voted to send people my age out to fight a war when he didn't even bother to read the full 90 page NIE report about Iraq. He voted to spend our resources to fight a war over weapons of mass destruction, a particular point where the U.S.A. hadn't had human intelligence sources for five years. He voted to spend our resources to fight a war when the evidence presented to the Armed Services Committee were blurry pictures of trailers in the desert.

In 2007, when McCain was in Iraq, he said that (based on a visit to the Shorja Market in Baghdad) Baghdad was very safe. And he was right.

Shorja Market was safe because there were 100 troops on the ground and on rooftops in that market. Shorja Market was safe because three Blackhawk and two Apache attack helicopters were circling overhead. He was safe because he didn't remove his bulletproof vest. Traffic was redirected and restricted for that hour-long visit. He went out to visit the production he voted in favor of and found an orchestrated calm.

McCain may want to think more carefully about what he is implying.

When Bush and his water carriers in the Senate and House authorized a war on the other side of the world under false pretenses, it was vital to American national security that it shouldn't be questioned. McCain saw no generation theft there. But when it's an $800 billion spending bill proposed by a Democrat, that's when he draws the line.

We know where McCain stands now that he's away from President Bush. Even though Bush is out of office, it's still too close for my comfort ideologically. I've always felt Senator McCain's political career in this decade has had a tragic quality, and it's no more apparent than here. Quite a few people, myself included, respected him before 2004 because of his ability to speak to more than a traditional base. (Dare I say maverick?) But with the phrase generational theft, McCain continues his slide into a familiar, anonymous role: Republican senator keeping the party line.

And these statements sound as though he's listening to the same people who had a cruel hand in his losing presidential run. The great tragedies end when the protagonists are ruined. After the fiasco that was the post-Palin campaign, McCain isn't looking too good, but I don't want to see his curtain close yet.

The Floor

Hope. The hope in everyone's heart recently has been palpable. Not the wish-kind of hope evoked by dreamers (I hope I win the lottery), or the sappy-kind of hope (hope will carry us through) but rather a third kind of hope: the sickly kind of hope that counts on hitting the floor. How far can we fall?

I am sure you all remember the graphs that started around six months ago, the ones that occupied the front pages of - hmmm - every newspaper nation wide. Those graphs sported captions that read something like: 'Don't count on a job, the future is scary, and nobody likes living anymore.' In case you were wondering, that was not the floor.

Roller coasters are used for many metaphors and similes to describe uncertain and tumultuous times. In many ways, this comparison is cliched, but it is also so fitting in this situation that it transcends a silly cultural construction and actually becomes a viable means of expression. So, bear with me as I explain what a roller coaster does. First, a roller coaster takes a car uphill at a nearly impossible angle for a long period of time. Everyone on board the roller coaster is well aware, what with the passing trees, then clouds, that they are clearly gaining a great deal of altitude, and, seeing how the cars are unable to fly, should be concerned about this course of action. Still, up is up, and flying never hurt anyone. So everyone on board surrenders their destiny to the tracks and enjoys this improbable accent. Then, at some point the tracks level off. On a really long roller coaster, being in the front is a very interesting experience, because you get to see the impending drop, but because the bulk of the coaster is still topping the hill, you might not get going fast until you are already part of the way down the hill. But even for those who do not get to see the drop before they feel it, they should know it was coming because of both the impossible angle of accent and the screaming of those in front of them. Roller coasters thrill, but should never surprise.

So we go through an election. I am excited. Like a kid in line for a roller coaster. Maybe change will happen. I like change. Do you know what else I like? Debt - not up to my ears, but 20 or 30 feet past my ears. Do you know who hates Republicans? Maybe me. I hate corporations and people that have too much money. I hate bail-outs. I hate waste. I hate war. I hate death. I hate incompetence. I hate lies. I REALLY hate bail-outs. So, when I find out that our very own change loving President is not only backing but PUSHING 'Bailout: the Second Coming,' I start to wonder if it really is Republicans I hate. Suddenly I realize how little effect what the people want has on the government, and I am reminded of what it feels like to be disenfranchised again.

Hope. The hope of a floor is keeping our hearts still as our bodies fall. Those graphs are not going away. They are thrilling, but they are not surprising. Screaming, the passengers reach the bottom of the hill. In the future, they see something brilliant and shining: a great angled incline: Progress: Change: Humanity: Hope. As their stomachs sink farther than the floor, pushed down inside them, they gasp, not out of despair, but for ecstasy. A hill is on the horizon. The track is laid. Salvation will come from above. All plans are good plans. All directions lead up. We will not lose, because we cannot lose.

We have not lost. Hope: the tracks are now good, because the conductor has changed. This conductor will drive our train safely. This conductor will bring our troops home: he will not stay the course. This conductor will keep the lobbyists and crooks out of Washington and the Whitehouse. This conductor drives a train. Trains don't go too fast, or down hills, or crash, or disappoint. Trains are safe for America. Roller coasters are a Republican thing. I am glad we are safe.

I am glad we have not lost. Hope is the floor when we have no floor. I do not trust myself - that is why governments and corporations should run the engine. How about we vote and feel proud once every four years. Why in that one shining moment of freedom do we not vote for who we really want? It is certainly not McCain, but truthfully, for all of the hope he inspires, it is not Obama either. The people want someone else. They don't want President Politician. They don't want President Oil. They want President Me. They want the thing they fear the most: to loose the tracks and finally be responsible for something. They want to destroy the destiny complex of America. They want to vote every Friday, and they want it to matter. They don't want to vote for flesh, they want to vote for ideas, like hope and change. They want to kick the shit out of legislation that pisses them off. They don't want pay raises for politicians when the people are unemployed. They don't want stimulus that will bankrupt their children. They want something else. The floor fell once.

Hope is the second floor. Hope might just be an unwillingness to fear. What will happen when the second floor falls? Will we still hope for an infinite incline to heaven, or will we decide to act here in the mud. I guess there is a chance everything will be better. Maybe a cure will arrive. Maybe we will all be saved from responsibility by destiny and government.

Or, maybe we will lose. Hope.