There's a little RIFLEMAN in all of us.Saturday, August 30, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
MCCAIN GIVES BIRTHDAY GIFT TO DEMS
Just what do you give an opposing campaign that has everything?
The response from the Obama-Biden camp: "Thank you, Johnny. You shouldn't have."
The response from the Obama-Biden camp: "Thank you, Johnny. You shouldn't have."
TAKING AIM AT THE DNC
They say politics is local. So you’d better believe I was hunkered down in Denver this past week as that great blue tidal wave crashed down upon the mile high city. I was planning on sending a series of dispatches as the Democratic Convention progressed. After my first minute-and-a-half inside the Pepsi Dome[1], I scratched that idea. I make this personal pledge to you, my dear readers, the day you see within these pages my in-depth coverage of a Mark Warner speech is the very day I turn my own rifle on myself.
As a rule, political conventions are dead dull. Especially those held by the Democrats. I hate to say this, but if you’re looking to get down and dirty, you don’t chase the liberal donkey, you follow the path of the raging red elephant. The Republican Party has long been a “do as I say, not as I do” in-crowd. Those in the know call it the GOPoPPP – the Grand Ole Party of Perverts, Pederasts, and Panty-sniffers. Nothing at a Dem Convention can come close to the Gomorrahan depths of depravity that pass for status quo at the Republican bash. Yet on that base level, this Denver convention will always be about that curly haired young lady with a different Holly Golightly dress for every night of the week. If you’re reading this, Shelley, we’ll always have the RFK Memorial.
But I digress. Back to the boredom. The DNC – the convention of Greenpeace, not golden showers. The floor of the Pepsi Center was littered each day with a bunch of young policy wonks, sporting their bad haircuts and ill-fitting suits, talk-talk-talking about everything yet acting upon nothing. They’re tomorrow’s pols in training. It’s hard to fault them. After all, it’s the way of nature. These wonks are not unlike any other ape…obeying the rules of society as defined and directed by the silverbacks that came before them.
Of course, this is a different kind of convention for a different kind of candidate. And as such, there were only two seismic events that registered this as a “change” convention. The first, the speech of Sen. Hillary Clinton. Hillary, a silverback Dem if ever there was one, finally did the right thing. Realizing a Darwinian shift has occurred in her party, she willingly conceded to the next evolution of Democrat. And she did it with aplomb. It was not only the most important speech of her political career, it was her finest.
As expected, the most important event of the convention was the acceptance speech of Sen. Barack Obama. Standing there, at the 30-yard line at Mile High Stadium, I was moved by the furious sense of desperation throughout the house. These people need Obama like the air they breathe, and I’d be willing to wager that sense of necessity resonated throughout the country. Finally, a Democrat stood up against the Rove cabal and held a mirror to the gruesome, disfigured policies and tactics that have torn this country to pieces in the past decade. What’s more, Obama stood strong, proud, and ready to lead. For the first time, I felt his election was inevitable. Old McCain might as well give up the ghost, because change is coming to Washington.
On the way out of Invesco, I bumped into Pat Buchanan, a former Nixon speechwriter and Presidential hopeful who now sells his punditry to MSNBC. He commented that he liked my hat. Thanks Pat, but what do you think about Obama?
“I think the Rove era has finally met its end.”
I agree with Buchanan. It was only a matter of time. Karl Rove is a power broker, not a patriot. And in times like these, it takes a patriot. For more than once, the flame of America’s promise has nearly been extinguished. And in those last flickering moments, when the glow has just about gone gray, a true leader has always risen to the challenge, by luck or by destiny, to breathe oxygen onto the embers and nurse the flame back to life. Abraham Lincoln was one such man. Franklin D. Roosevelt, another. Tonight, Barack Obama didn’t just blow air on the embers, he poured gasoline on the mother fucker! In doing so, he renewed the very definition of patriotism, snatching it back from the withered, dying grasp of the GOP who once wielded the word like a blunt instrument.
It was a night of historic significance. Forty-five years after Dr. King spoke of his dream, an African American man stood on stage to accept his party’s nomination for President of the United States. Obama represents a change that runs far deeper than the reversal of George W. Bush’s failed policies. He represents the first small step toward the colorblind ideal that King died dreaming about. I've said it before and I'll say it again - America needs Barack Obama.
In the coming weeks, I’m sure my enthusiasm will subside as I watch John McCain attack like a stubborn old soldier, performing the same Rove-era divide/conquer strategies to paint Obama as a dangerous threat to the status quo. But in these moments, let’s not forget that it is the status quo itself that threatens. In this moment, to quote the great change candidate of the last century, “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”
Good night, Denver. Good night, America. Tomorrow I ride for Minneapolis/St. Paul.
__________________________________________
[1] A political convention with “brought to you buy” corporate sponsorship…hardly a solid signifier of change we can believe in.
As a rule, political conventions are dead dull. Especially those held by the Democrats. I hate to say this, but if you’re looking to get down and dirty, you don’t chase the liberal donkey, you follow the path of the raging red elephant. The Republican Party has long been a “do as I say, not as I do” in-crowd. Those in the know call it the GOPoPPP – the Grand Ole Party of Perverts, Pederasts, and Panty-sniffers. Nothing at a Dem Convention can come close to the Gomorrahan depths of depravity that pass for status quo at the Republican bash. Yet on that base level, this Denver convention will always be about that curly haired young lady with a different Holly Golightly dress for every night of the week. If you’re reading this, Shelley, we’ll always have the RFK Memorial.
But I digress. Back to the boredom. The DNC – the convention of Greenpeace, not golden showers. The floor of the Pepsi Center was littered each day with a bunch of young policy wonks, sporting their bad haircuts and ill-fitting suits, talk-talk-talking about everything yet acting upon nothing. They’re tomorrow’s pols in training. It’s hard to fault them. After all, it’s the way of nature. These wonks are not unlike any other ape…obeying the rules of society as defined and directed by the silverbacks that came before them.
Of course, this is a different kind of convention for a different kind of candidate. And as such, there were only two seismic events that registered this as a “change” convention. The first, the speech of Sen. Hillary Clinton. Hillary, a silverback Dem if ever there was one, finally did the right thing. Realizing a Darwinian shift has occurred in her party, she willingly conceded to the next evolution of Democrat. And she did it with aplomb. It was not only the most important speech of her political career, it was her finest.
As expected, the most important event of the convention was the acceptance speech of Sen. Barack Obama. Standing there, at the 30-yard line at Mile High Stadium, I was moved by the furious sense of desperation throughout the house. These people need Obama like the air they breathe, and I’d be willing to wager that sense of necessity resonated throughout the country. Finally, a Democrat stood up against the Rove cabal and held a mirror to the gruesome, disfigured policies and tactics that have torn this country to pieces in the past decade. What’s more, Obama stood strong, proud, and ready to lead. For the first time, I felt his election was inevitable. Old McCain might as well give up the ghost, because change is coming to Washington.
On the way out of Invesco, I bumped into Pat Buchanan, a former Nixon speechwriter and Presidential hopeful who now sells his punditry to MSNBC. He commented that he liked my hat. Thanks Pat, but what do you think about Obama?
“I think the Rove era has finally met its end.”
I agree with Buchanan. It was only a matter of time. Karl Rove is a power broker, not a patriot. And in times like these, it takes a patriot. For more than once, the flame of America’s promise has nearly been extinguished. And in those last flickering moments, when the glow has just about gone gray, a true leader has always risen to the challenge, by luck or by destiny, to breathe oxygen onto the embers and nurse the flame back to life. Abraham Lincoln was one such man. Franklin D. Roosevelt, another. Tonight, Barack Obama didn’t just blow air on the embers, he poured gasoline on the mother fucker! In doing so, he renewed the very definition of patriotism, snatching it back from the withered, dying grasp of the GOP who once wielded the word like a blunt instrument.
It was a night of historic significance. Forty-five years after Dr. King spoke of his dream, an African American man stood on stage to accept his party’s nomination for President of the United States. Obama represents a change that runs far deeper than the reversal of George W. Bush’s failed policies. He represents the first small step toward the colorblind ideal that King died dreaming about. I've said it before and I'll say it again - America needs Barack Obama.
In the coming weeks, I’m sure my enthusiasm will subside as I watch John McCain attack like a stubborn old soldier, performing the same Rove-era divide/conquer strategies to paint Obama as a dangerous threat to the status quo. But in these moments, let’s not forget that it is the status quo itself that threatens. In this moment, to quote the great change candidate of the last century, “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”
Good night, Denver. Good night, America. Tomorrow I ride for Minneapolis/St. Paul.
__________________________________________
[1] A political convention with “brought to you buy” corporate sponsorship…hardly a solid signifier of change we can believe in.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
COUP D'ÉTAT?
With Mark Penn's recent praise for McCain's desperate attack-ad campaign, Bill's decision to speak at the DNC, and Hillary's assertion that her delegates should be counted, one can't help but wonder if we're in for a Clintonian coup d'état. I hope all those happy delegates pack their ponchos, because I think they may be in for a bloodbath.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
REAL ESTATES
The US Military's New Strategy for Affordable Housing
US families suffering the gut-twisting blow of foreclosure need worry no longer. The US Military, with the assistance of the Bush Administration, has unveiled a new strategy for affordable housing. Called "segregation boxes," the lightweight, mobile wooden homes are currently all the rage in Iraq. There, hundreds of young men have been able to stretch out and relax in the lushly apointed, personally customized 3x3x6 foot residences.
Based on their success in the Mid-East, demand for segregation boxes is growing here on the home front. Four segreation boxes cost less than an average monthly mortgage payment, meaning an average American family can now live cleanly, humanely, and best of all, cheaply. It's another of the Bush Administration's sweeping initiatives to ease the nation's current economic woes.
Those of you interested in purchasing your own segregation boxes can write to:
W. Enterprises
P.O. Box 666
Washington, DC 20500
US families suffering the gut-twisting blow of foreclosure need worry no longer. The US Military, with the assistance of the Bush Administration, has unveiled a new strategy for affordable housing. Called "segregation boxes," the lightweight, mobile wooden homes are currently all the rage in Iraq. There, hundreds of young men have been able to stretch out and relax in the lushly apointed, personally customized 3x3x6 foot residences.
Based on their success in the Mid-East, demand for segregation boxes is growing here on the home front. Four segreation boxes cost less than an average monthly mortgage payment, meaning an average American family can now live cleanly, humanely, and best of all, cheaply. It's another of the Bush Administration's sweeping initiatives to ease the nation's current economic woes.
Those of you interested in purchasing your own segregation boxes can write to:
W. Enterprises
P.O. Box 666
Washington, DC 20500
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
LETTERS FROM THE RANGE
The Rifleman Opens His MailbagRifleman,
I have a question for you, rather the Obama campaign-- when are they gonna release the hounds?!? john mccain was in the keating 5 for fucks sake!
Respectfully,
T-Bone
Ballard, WA
Dear T-Bone,
Thank you for your letter. That graceful note of collegial esteem in your salutation is something I always appreciate. You're obviously a straight shooter, and your question is a good one, as it begs for a common sense approach to politics. I've got some bad news for you, mi amigo. You can beg all you want, but there is little common sense to be found in politics...especially when your politics are those of the Democratic Party.
Barack Obama has a lot of things going for him. He's young. He's a brilliant speaker. He has a good head on his shoulders. He has plans for the FUTURE of this country. A lot of people have taken him to task recently for jockeying toward the center on a lot of issues. His position shifts should come as no surprise. McCain's gdoing the same damn thing. This is the natural course of a Presidential race. As soon as the candidates are announced, they both pander to score the maximum number of votes. Common sense, right? Can you imagine any Democrat dumb enough to jockey hard left before a general election?* Unfortunately for America, this mad dash to the center is where common sense ends for the Democrats.
As you probably know if you've taken to writing me, I'm no fan of candidate McCain. But the old buzzard is doing it by the GOP book (I believe the title is The Necroneocon). He appears to be getting results. Comparing Barack Obama to Paris Hilton and Britney Spears may seem desperate and out of touch to you, me, and anyone else who's learned to read...but the polls don't lie (any more than they are designed to), and if you believe that hype, Johnny Mac is gaining ground.
Now common sense should dictate the course of action from the Obama camp. They should hit back...HARD. If you're a "long-time" reader of my dispatches, you'll remember that I advocated a take-no-prisoners approach early in the primary season. Same is true today. I think Team Obama should cut together their own advertisement that shows McCain to be the slobbering, doddering, ill-tempered, money-grubbing, war-prolonging, big oil-fucking, graft-abiding, old-crow party-pol that he most certainly is - in every way, shape, and form the WRONG choice for President at this crucial crossroads in our Nation's history. It wouldn't be hard to do. Any 16-year-old with a laptop could find enough Youtube clips to bury the undead Senator a thousand times over.
But is Obama willing to beat the Republicans at their own game? I think HE is. But don't overestimate that stubborn blue ass to which he’s hitched his wagon. The Democratic Party has, of late, bolstered the masochistic "grin and bear it" philosophy to counter the Rove Republican’s "slash and burn" strategy. The result - Dem candidates stand stoic as Michaelangelo's Pieta while Republicans pull a Laszlo Toth trip all over them.
Obama only stands to loose by standing idle. Flip-Flop Kerry stood idle. Nation-Builder Gore stood idle. Willy Horton Dukakis stood idle. My advice to Barack Obama is my advice to you:
Take Aim. Shoot Straight.
The Rifleman
_______________________________
*Remember, Kucinich didn't get the nod.
THE IMPOSTER
I don't know who this Chuck Stevens yahoo is, but word around the campfire is he's been sullying my name all over this wide, open range. If you're out there, Chuck, I'll meet you out front of McCall's Saloon at twelve bells.
And bring yer rifle...
Friday, August 1, 2008
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