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Rove Biggest Threat To American Security In War On Terror

MichaelKwiatkowski — Fri, 15 Jul 2005 00:38:07 GMT

I decided I'd do a copy/paste job from Keith Olbermann's blog over at MSNBC.com: • July 11, 2005 | 11:39 a.m. ET Karl Rove: Soft on terror (Keith Olbermann) SECURED UNDISCLOSED LOCATION -- Karl Rove is a liability in the war on terror. Rove -- Newsweek’s new article quotes the very emails -- told a Time reporter that Ambassador Joe Wilson’s trip to investigate of the Niger uranium claim was at the behest of Wilson’s CIA wife. To paraphrase Mr. Rove, liberals saw the savagery of the 9/11 attacks and wanted to prepare indictments and offer therapy and understanding for our attackers; conservatives saw the savagery of 9/11 and the attacks and prepared to ruin the career of one of the country’s spies tracking terrorist efforts to gain weapons of mass destruction -- for political gain. Politics first, counter-terrorism second -- it’s as simple as that. In his ‘story guidance’ to Matthew Cooper of Time, Rove did more damage to your safety than the most thumb-sucking liberal or guard at Abu Ghraib. He destroyed an intelligence asset like Valerie Plame merely to deflect criticism of a politician. We have all the damned politicians, of every stripe, that we need. The best of them isn’t worth half a Valerie Plame. And if the particular politician for whom Rove was deflecting, President Bush, is more than just all hat and no cattle on terrorism, he needs to banish Rove -- and loudly. Because it’s starting again. I was in the checkout line in a supermarket last night when one of New York’s countless little old ladies barked out something at the cashier: “Miss? Who does this bag belong to?” Uncomprehending, the checkout woman blinked at her. The older woman pointed at a gym bag that had been left near the store’s entrance, on a ledge below the delicatessen cabinet. Gefilta fish is an unlikely terrorist target to say the least, but the woman was absolutely right. “We’re supposed to report unattended bags. There could be a bomb in there.” Silly, right? As silly as it would’ve been before last Thursday in London if somebody on the Underground had said to a fellow passenger, “There’s a bag of something here that doesn’t seem to belong to anybody.” You may not have lived through a Time of the Bags in your hometown, but I did, and I don’t want to go through it again. In the jittery New York of October, 2001, I once came within seconds of getting Yankee Stadium evacuated, because there it was, resting against the railing of the visitors’ dugout: a small backpack surrounded by hundreds of reporters who were all carrying their own backpacks. I asked several of my colleagues about it - none saw it placed there nor knew to whom it belonged. I called out loudly; nobody responded. The two or three other reporters with whom I’d been chatting suddenly announced I was in charge. Gee, thanks. I did the calculations: the Stadium was filling up. There were hundreds on the field, thousands already in the stands. The bag had a Super Bowl logo on the side - if designed to fit in with the environment, it was ideal. As my colleagues’ faces got whiter and whiter, I said I’d give it 30 seconds and one more shout. I saw a policeman about 20 feet to my left. The process wouldn’t take long. I gave one final shout seeking the identity of the owner. A goateed ESPN guy ambled over. “I’m pretty sure that’s, what’s his name, he’s down the other side of the dugout.” We didn’t call the cop. We called What’s His Name. He was from the Bay Area and though an otherwise intelligent man, he simply hadn’t yet had to consider exactly what was meant by the phrase “unattended bag.” He sheepishly reclaimed it. Not an hour later, I was finishing up dinner with one of my colleagues who had shared my Near Bag Experience. He had a press seat way out in leftfield and didn’t want to take his bag with him. So he promptly stuffed it under a desk in the Yankee Stadium press room. He’s a friend, and I swore at him as you can only swear at a friend. He took the bag with him. We’re back in those times, thanks to the London attacks. Needless to say, the 2001 bag at Yankee Stadium was no more threatening than the 2005 bag at the Associated Supermarket. But if we’re going to have to live our lives looking for them, I damn well don’t want political morons in positions where they can deliberately screw up counter-terrorism measures. I know we already have to live with the idea that they’ll do it accidentally. Any time I’ve criticized the current administration here or on the air, I’ve gotten the same idiotic emails from the same idiotic people who’ve never been touched by terrorism. They brand me a liberal who doesn’t understand that terrorists want the next unattended bag to be filled with WMD. Their position is incredible on its face; in the light of the confirmation of the Karl Rove revelation it would assume the quality of farce, were it not so deadly serious. And the bottom line is this: in the metaphoric department of the war on terror, Karl Rove not only leaves bags unattended - he does it intentionally. ---------------------------------------------------------------- And you know what? He's right. When it comes to matters of national security, Rove and all the other criminals in the Bush regime--including the Shrub himself--will always put politics over the safety of our intel operatives and the American people. That has to be hands down the largest threat to America, even bigger than al-Qaeda. Because if our own government will do this treasonous act against its own people, then we are all in a load of Trouble.

Happy 4th of July!

MichaelKwiatkowski — Mon, 04 Jul 2005 01:45:23 GMT

Okay, so there's not much to be celebrating as our nation turns 229 tomorrow. But rather than get into all the reasons why that is, I have decided that what is needed is a little something light-hearted. I give you, therefore, the lyrics to Iron Maiden's "The Wicker Man." Enjoy. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Hand of fate is moving and the finger points to you He knocks you to your feet and so what are you gonna do Your tongue has frozen now you’ve got something to say The piper at the gates of dawn is calling you his way You watch the world exploding every single night Dancing in the sun a newborn in the light Say goodbye to gravity and say goodbye to death Hello to eternity and live for every breath Your time will come, your time will come Your time will come, your time will come The ferryman wants his money you ain’t going to give it back He can push his own boat as you set up off the track Nothing you can contemplate will ever be the same Every second is a new spark, sets the universe aflame You watch the world exploding every single night Dancing in the sun a newborn in the light Brothers and their fathers joining hands and make a chain The shadow of the wicker man is rising up again Your time will come, your time will come Your time will come, your time will come Your time will come, your time will come Your time will come, your time will come Your time will come, your time will come Your time will come, your time will come

Some Rude Words Regarding Terri Schiavo

MichaelKwiatkowski — Sun, 19 Jun 2005 12:07:55 GMT

http://rudepundit.blogspot.com ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- 6/18/2005 Going All In and Losing Large On Schiavo: There's a lot of motherfuckers who staked their political capital and professional credibility on the idea that Terri Schiavo was not a vegetable, that she could be healed, that Jesus loved her that much. Well, tough shit. They went all in on that bet, and now it's time to make these sons and daughters of bitches pay. Turns out that science was right and faith was wrong. It turns out that Terri Schiavo's brainpan was just a vessel for holding a bunch of goo, not a brain. It turns out she didn't follow any fuckin' balloon or look at anyone at any time because she was blind. Oh, and she wasn't beaten, yo, although Jeb Bush will resuscitate Schiavo's corpse in order to get all C.S.I. on her ashes in order to salvage any shred of credibility he has left. (More precisely, Michael Schiavo will be forced to suffer ever more for the crime of wanting his rutabaga of a wife to be allowed to die.) Now, Mel Martinez, the Florida Senator that led the charge for Congress to intervene in the Schiavo case, is trying to save his ass by saying that he was wrong. Bill Frist, who spoke in the Senate about how Schivao "responded" to stimulus, is now saying he never said she "responded." The Rude Pundit wouldn't trust Frist to look at a boil on someone's ass, let alone their EKG. Terri Schiavo needs to become the Willie Horton around the necks of Republicans in 2006. And what will our fair right wing commentators, so many of whom were soooo sure back in the dark days of March that Schiavo might be able to be rehabilitated, say as we extend the "we-told-you-so" mantra? Like Charlie "I Be a Doctor" Krauthammer, who wrote, "I have tried to find out what her neurological condition actually is. But the evidence is sketchy, old and conflicting. The Florida court found that most of her cerebral cortex is gone. But 'most' does not mean all. There might be some cortex functioning. The very severely retarded or brain-damaged can have some consciousness. And we do not go around euthanizing the minimally conscious in the back wards of the mental hospitals on the grounds that their lives are not worth living." Or David Limbaugh, who wrote, "From what I've read, while Terri is severely disabled, she's not in a so-called vegetative state, she's not in a coma, and she's not medically terminal," and later belched up more: "I detect more than a bit of intellectual dishonesty among many favoring Terri's death. They are claiming they merely want to honor Terri's wishes, yet they rely on her tainted husband, callously discount the testimony of her loving parents, blindly accept the disinformation that Terri is in a purely vegetative state, and ignore multiple firsthand accounts, including from examining physicians and nurses, that Terri is responsive, sometimes animated, and definitely wants to go on living." Or Maggie Gallagher, who, when not selling out cheap to support marriage, wrote, "a neurologist who was nominated for the Nobel Prize in 1999 (and who examined Terri Schiavo several years ago) [said] that Terri is not in a vegetative state. She sometimes responds. Terri (he says) has been able to swallow pudding in the past, and can swallow her own saliva right now. With therapy, she might not even need the feeding tube. 'They are truly withholding food from a person who is awake, alert, and can eat and swallow.'" Damn, Nobel Prizes are cheap trinkets these days. Or the mad Michelle Malkin, who wrote, "If given proper rehabilitation, Terri could learn to chew and swallow on her own as well. She is disabled, not dead." Now Malkin desperately clings to the shadows of doubt that are built into any rational scientific document. And the good lawyer Hindrocket, the queerly-named conservative blogger on the queerly-named blog Powerline, said in March, "I think pretty much anyone who sees it thinks--she's not dead. Severely disabled, yes. Dead, no. Deliberately starving her would be a terrible thing. That's how I reacted to it, anyway...And I believe it is undisputed that Terri Schiavo has never been given the tests normally used to diagnose a persistent vegetative state, apparently because her husband refuses to allow them." While the calls for Frist and DeLay and Bushes Jeb [and] George to apologize are loud and resounding, there's been little furor over the destruction of the credibility of all of our sanctimonious right wing wads of fuck. Yes, it's more important to wreck the political "leaders" of the opposition, but it'd be the cherry on the fuckin' sundae to punish their media enablers. Meanwhile, one must feel at least some pity for the poor, deluded parents of Terri Schiavo. They have to cling to the insane hope that their daughter could have gotten better. Otherwise, to accept the coroner's report, they would have to face the horror that they artificially kept their blind, brain-melted daughter alive for years. And perhaps one needs to die with illusions than to deal with that nightmare. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- I thought this might be worth posting. All those assholes and deluded but decent folks who clung desperately to the notion that Terri Schiavo *wasn't* just a brain-dead vegetable have now been proven wrong, finally and completely. The ruling by the Florida courts was sound, based on the conclusions of doctors who have examined the late Mrs. Schiavo over and over. The woman whose body sat it a chair and did nothing but drool for fifteen years, while her family members waved a balloon in front of her dead eyes and imagined they saw them following it, was never going to recover, because there was nothing *to* recover. I can only hope that eventually, Terri's family is able to accept the truth and let go of their daughter. I know a lot of people who lose their children have a rough time accepting it, but to drag it out like this in the face of overwhelming evidence that their child is gone and isn't coming back seems to me to be more painful and more devoid of actual hope than the alternative--which is acceptance, a period of grief, and then moving on. As for the neocons and the pseudo-religious fundamentalists who cynically used Terri Schiavo's case as just one more in a long line of issues to be used and abused for political gain, I say FUCK YOU. You never cared one damned bit about Terri Schiavo, or her family, or the right to life. No, you fucking hypocrites don't care about anything except acquiring and retaining power at any cost--as long as it's someone else who pays the price. You make me sick, and that's why I say that you people (and you know who you are, just as the sane people to whom this rant does not apply know who they are) are the lowest form of life I can imagine. There is no tragedy you aren't willing to exploit for your own ends and your own gain. That's fucking disgusting. And you know it. I hope you all suffer the exact same fate as those you have exploited, as those whose lives you've destroyed in your mad, obsessive grab for absolute political power. If any justice truly exists in this tired old world, that is exactly what will happen. And when the rest of the world is finally, permanently relieved of the burden of your presence, we will pick up the pieces as we have always done, and go on to try and make the world better than it was when we came into it.

Alcoholscopes

MichaelKwiatkowski — Fri, 03 Jun 2005 01:17:10 GMT

ARIES Drinking style: Impulsive Aries people like to party and sometimes don't know when to call it a night. Their competitive streak makes them prone to closing time shot contests. They're sloppy, fun drunks, and they get mighty flirty after a couple tipples. Getting Aries people drunk is a good way to get what you want out of them, should other methods fail. Aries can become bellicose when blotto, but they will assume that whatever happened should be forgiven (if not forgotten) by sunrise. They can be counted on to do the same for you -- so long as you haven't gone and done anything really horrible to them last night, you sneaky Gemini. TAURUS (me) Drinking style: Taurus prefers to drink at a leisurely pace, aiming for a mellow glow rather than a full on zonk. Since a truly intoxicated Taurus is a one-person stampede, the kind of bull-in-a-china-shop inebriate who spills red wine on white carpets and tells fart jokes to employers, the preference for wining and dining (or Bud and buddies) to body shots and barfing is quite fortunate for the rest of us. This is not to say that the Bull is by any means a teetotaler -- god, no. A squiffy Taurus will get, er, gregarious (full of loudmouth soup, some would say) and is extremely amusing to drag to a karaoke bar when intoxicated. GEMINI Drinking style: Gemini's can drink without changing their behavior much -- they're so naturally chatty and short-attention-spanned that it's just hard to tell sometimes. They can amaze you by conversing with finesse and allusions, then doing something to belie an extremely advanced state of intoxication, like puking in your shoe. Gemini's possess the magic ability to flirt successfully (and uninfuriatingly, which is very tricky) with several people at once. They like to order different cocktails every round -- repetition is boring -- and may create a theme (like yellow drinks: beer, sauvignon blanc and limoncello) for their own amusement. CANCER Drinking style: Cancer is a comfort drinker -- and an extra wine with dinner or an after-work beer or six can be extra comforting, can't it, Cancer darling? Like fellow water signs Scorpio and Pisces, Crabs must guard against lushery. Cancers are brilliant at ferreting out secret parties and insinuating themselves on VIP lists -- and, in true Hollywood style, Cancers are never really drunk; instead, they get "tired and emotional" (read: weepy when lubricated). But there's nothing better than swapping stories (and spit) over a few bottles of inky red wine with your favorite Cancer. Even your second-favorite Cancer will do. The sign also rules the flavor vanilla, and you'd be adored if you served up vanilla vodka and soda. LEO Drinking style: Leo likes to drink and dance -- they're often fabulous dancers, and usually pretty good drinkers as well, losing their commanding dignity and turning kittenish. Of course, they're quite aware they're darling -- Leos will be Leos, after all. They generally know their limit, probably because they loathe losing self-control. When they get over-refreshed, expect flirting to ensue -- and perhaps not with the one what brung them. But Leo's not the type to break rules even when drunk, so just try to ignore it (try harder, Cancer) and expect a sheepish (and hung over) Lion to make it up to you the next day. VIRGO Drinking style: Cerebral Virgos are compelled to impose order onto their bender. Their famously fussy quest for purity could lead to drinking less than other signs, sure -- but it could also lead to drinking booze neat, to sucking down organic wine or just to brand loyalty. They rarely get fully shellacked -- but, oh, when they do! Virgo's controlled by the intellect, but there's an unbridled beast lurking within, and they let it loose when walloped. It's dead sexy (and surprisingly unsloppy). As one Virgo friend used to declare, "I'm going to drink myself into a low level of intelligence tonight." A toast to the subgenius IQ! LIBRA Drinking style: "I'm jusht a social drinker," slurs Libra, "it's jusht that I'm so damn social?" Libra loves nothing more than to party, mingle and relate to everyone. Whether dipped in favor of Good Libra (with Insta-Friend device set to "on") or heavier on the Evil Libra side (they are little instigators when bored), the Scales can really work a room. Charming as they are, Libras are notoriously lacking in self-control, however, which can get them into all sorts of trouble -- including wearing their wobbly boots waaaay too early in the evening, flirting with their best friend's beau or even blacking out the night's events entirely. Oops! SCORPIO Drinking style: Don't ever tell Scorpios they've had enough, for they'll smirk at you and quietly but intentionally keep tippling till they're hog whimpering drunk, out of 100-proof spite. Scorpios like to drink, and screw you if you have a problem with that. Most of them see the sauce as something to savor in itself, and not as a personality-altering tool -- though if depressed, self-loathing Scorps seek total obliteration. But generally, they're fascinating drinking pals, brilliant conversationalists and dizzying flirts. They also remember everything -- especially what you did when you were blitzed. Only drink with a Scorpio who likes you. SAGITTARIUS Drinking style: In vino veritas -- and, for Sagittarius, in booze blurtiness: When buttered, they'll spill all your secrets and many of their own. Tactlessness aside, Sagittarius is just plain fun to drink with. This is a sign of serious partying (what else would you expect from the sign of Sinatra, Keith Richards, the Bush twins and Anna Nicole Smith?). They're the people who chat up everyone in the room, then persuade the entire crowd to travel somewhere else -- like a nightclub, or a playground, or Cancun. Good-natured hijinks are sure to ensue (including a high possibility of loopy groping; spontaneous Sag is a brilliant booty call). CAPRICORN Drinking style: Capricorn is usually described as practical, steadfast, money-hungry and status-thirsty -- no wonder they get left off the astrological cocktail-party list. But this is the sign of David Bowie, Annie Lennox and Ricky Martin, not to mention Elvis. Capricorn is the true rock star: independent, powerful and seriously charismatic, not too eager to please. And if they rock stars, they're either totally on or totally off, and they generally need a little social lubricant to loosen up and enjoy the after party, especially if they can hook up with a cute groupie. AQUARIUS Drinking style: Aquarius and drinking don't go together that well (except for water, that is). They have an innate tendency toward know-it-allism, and if they get an idea while sizzled, they're more stubborn than a stain or a stone. If they're throwing a party or organizing an outing, however, they're too preoccupied with their duties to get combative -- and they make perfectly charming drunks in that case. Fortunately, they're usually capital drink-nursers. They also make the best-designated drivers (if you can get them before they start raising their wrist): Aquarius is fascinated by drunken people and capable of holding interesting conversations with soused strangers while sober. PISCES Drinking style: If you're a Pisces, you've probably already heard that you share a sign -- and an addictive personality -- with Liz Taylor, Liza Minelli and Kurt Cobain. Not only do Pisces like to lose themselves in the dreamy, out-there feeling that only hooch can give, but they build up a mighty tolerance fast. Who needs an expensive date like that? On the other hand, they're fabulously enchanting partners, whether in conversation or in crime. With the right Pisces, you can start out sharing a pitcher of margaritas and wind up in bed together for days. The phrase "addictive personality" can be read two ways, you know.

Happy Birthday To Me!

MichaelKwiatkowski — Wed, 18 May 2005 13:00:18 GMT

I turn 31 today. Eh.

A Damning Memo Gets Little Press In U.S.

MichaelKwiatkowski — Wed, 11 May 2005 19:55:28 GMT

http://www.freepress.org/columns/display/1/2005/1124 Meanwhile, back in Iraq Molly Ivins May 10, 2005 AUSTIN, Texas -- Meanwhile, back in Iraq. I was going to leave out of this column everything about how we got into Iraq, or whether it was wise, and or whether the infamous "they" knowingly lied to us. (Although I did plan to point out I would be nobly refraining from poking at that pus-riddled question.) Since I believe one of our greatest strengths as Americans is shrewd practicality, I thought it was time we moved past the now unhelpful, "How did we get into his mess?" to the more utilitarian, "What the hell do we do now?" However, I cannot let this astounding Downing Street memo go unmentioned. On May 1, the Sunday Times of London printed a secret memo that went to the defense secretary, foreign secretary, attorney general and other high officials. It is the minutes of their meeting on Iraq with Tony Blair. The memo was written by Matthew Rycroft, a Downing Street foreign policy aide. It has been confirmed as legitimate and is dated July 23, 2002. I suppose the correct cliche is "smoking gun." "C reported on his recent talks in Washington. There was a perceptible shift in attitude. Military action was now seen as inevitable. Bush wanted to remove Saddam, through military action, justified by the conjunction of terrorism and WMD. But the intelligence and facts were being fixed around the policy. (There it is.) The NSC (National Security Council) had no patience with the U.N. route, and no enthusiasm for publishing material on the Iraqi regime's record. There was little discussion in Washington of the aftermath after military action." After some paragraphs on tactical considerations, Rycroft reports, "No decisions had been taken, but he (British defense secretary) thought the most likely timing in U.S. minds for military action to begin was January, with the timeline beginning 30 days before the U.S. congressional elections. "The foreign secretary said he would discuss this with Colin Powell this week. It seemed clear that Bush had made up his mind to take military action, even if the timing was not yet decided. But the case was thin. Saddam was not threatening his neighbors, and his WMD capability was less than that of Libya, North Korea or Iran. We should work up a plan for an ultimatum to Saddam to allow back in the U.N. weapons inspectors. This would also help with the legal justification for the use of force. "The attorney general said that the desire for regime change was not a legal base for military action. There were three possible legal bases: self-defense, humanitarian intervention or UNSC authorization. The first and second could not be the base in this case." There is much more in the memo, which can be found easily online. What's difficult now is placing the memo in the timeframe. Can you remember how little you knew about a war with Iraq in July 2002? Most of us who opposed the war concluded some time ago this was the way it went down. There was plenty of evidence, though nothing this direct and cold. Think of the difference it would have made if we had known all this three years ago. Now? The memo was a huge story in Britain but is almost unreported here. The memo does get us some forwarder. At least it finally settles this ridiculous debate about how Dear Leader Bush just wanted to bring democracy all along and we did it all for George Washington. Enough said. What to do? Now that we're there, at least we're on the right side, not even withstanding the disgusting Ahmed Chalabi as oil minister. Unfortunately, our very support for the good guys is making it much harder for them. A tactical Catch-22. I was impressed by the premise of Reza Aslan's new book, "No God but God," which is that all of Islam is undergoing a struggle between the modernists and the traditionalists, between reformers and reactionaries. But in Iraq, which already had a secular state, we have the additional complication of sectarian/ethnic divisions -- your Sunnis, your Shiites, your Kurds -- not to mention, the tribalism within those divisions. (Am I bitter enough to point out once again that Paul Wolfowitz said under oath, "There is no history ethnic strife in Iraq"? You bet your ass I am.) Our most basic problem in-country is that having the U.S. of A. on your side automatically makes you about as popular as a socialist in the Texas Legislature: We are working against the guys we want to win by supporting them. This requires some serious skulling but is not, in politics, all that unusual a pickle. There is a political solution. Like all politics, it requires a deal. What about letting the interim government make a deal with the Sunnis for us to withdraw -- as in, "You cooperate with us, and we'll get the Americans out of here for you." We can't make that deal, but the Iraqis can. ***To find out more about Molly Ivins and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate web page at www.creators.com. COPYRIGHT 2005 CREATORS SYNDICATE INC.***

The Return of Cabin Fever

MichaelKwiatkowski — Mon, 25 Apr 2005 00:00:44 GMT

I'm sitting in my room, typing away on my computer while heavy, damp snow falls upon the Spring leaves as they struggle to open up. I like Winter, but it has worn out its welcome. I am long past ready for the not-too-cool, not-too-warm Spring temperatures. Early last week we had temperatures near 80. Spring is not supposed to swing from Summrer to Winter. It's abnormal. I want to defenestrate something. I'm currently watching some History Channel special about the "End Times." Why an otherwise intelligent cable channel wastes time devoting airspace to fantasies is beyond me. Every culture has its own stories about the end of the world. And every era thinks it is the last one. Civilizations rise, live and fall all the time. If our current, more or less global, society is nearing its end and we end up having to go back to the Stone Age, it'll happen because people are generally stupid and incapable of learning from the mistakes that led to previous civilizations' downfalls and not because of some book written in some religious text in the days when people still believed that carrying posies around in their pockets would ward off the Plague. "Ring around the rosey, A pocket full of posey, Atchoo! Atchoo! All fall down!" Funny how you learn things just by reading a book. I learned that original version of the rhyme by reading a medieval mystery novel by a writer who researches with the same attention to detail and historical accuracy as James Michener. At least the History Channel special is going into actual, scientific effects of global warming and arctic conditions arising from the use of fossil fuels as the likely means of Earth's devastation. My mind reels with the marvelous excuberance that comes from having successfully outbid some asshole on eBay on a vinyl Godzilla collectible. Not the one in the picture accompanying this blog, although with any luck I'll have that one as well. It's only got something like an hour and a half before the bidding ends, and so far no one else has bid on it. I think I'm finally beginning to grasp the ins and outs of bidding on eBay; wait until the last minute and then make your bid, so no one else has time to outbid you. I feel cooped in. No money until next pay day, snowing outside and no reason to go out in the cold, damp weather that should be flowering, Spring post-rain weather in the 50-degree-range. I had corned beef and boiled cabbage for dinner, along with a baked potato. Supposedly an Irish-style meal, but the Irish didn't bake their potatoes they boiled them. For seventeen and a half hours straight. For dessert, once dinner settles, I'm having apple crumb cobbler. Yum! Cabin fever sucks huge portions of ass.

Orange Marmalaide & Nutella Sandwich

MichaelKwiatkowski — Sun, 24 Apr 2005 18:00:10 GMT

Title of the blog entry pretty much says it all. Had one for breakfast this morning. There is no bad in chocolate and orange.

Texas Backs Off Bill to Ban Gay Foster Parents

MichaelKwiatkowski — Sat, 23 Apr 2005 21:39:23 GMT

The governor says the proposal could hurt efforts to revamp a child protection agency. By Scott Gold, Times Staff Writer HOUSTON — Leading Republicans in Texas distanced themselves Friday from a proposal to make the state the only one to prohibit gays and lesbians from being foster parents. It appears the plan will die without becoming law. The Texas House approved the plan this week, despite concerns that as many as 3,000 children could be removed from their foster homes. But amid a groundswell of anger and criticism, conservatives backed away from the proposal Friday. GOP leaders, including Gov. Rick Perry, said the proposal was so flawed it could endanger a broader initiative to overhaul the Texas Department of Child Protective Services. Kathy Walt, Perry's spokeswoman, said the governor believed that a "traditional marriage between a man and a woman is the best environment in which to raise children." However, she added, "He does not want the important focus of reforming CPS to get sidetracked by this debate." "We need to focus on protecting children," she said. Among Republican lawmakers, Perry's response was seen as a message to back off. And a key state senator leading the CPS restructuring effort said that she planned to resist the amendment containing the ban on gay foster parents. GOP Sen. Jane Nelson said that because a similar plan was declared unconstitutional in Arkansas, she feared that the Child Protective Services overhaul would be stalled by legal challenges. "We need these reforms immediately to help those children who are living in danger as we speak," she said in an e-mail. "And we cannot allow this reform bill to be tied up in the courts for years over an issue that was never part of our review." A spokeswoman for Rep. Robert Talton, who proposed the ban, said he no longer wished to discuss the issue. The Texas Senate and House have approved different versions of the Child Protective Services bill; the differences must be ironed out in committee before the bill becomes law. It is expected that Talton's amendment will be dropped from the compromise legislation. GOP officials said privately that they were stung by the response to the proposed ban. Perry declared an emergency this year after several children were killed following visits from caseworkers who had determined that the children were not in danger. The overhaul would give Child Protective Services hundreds more investigators, reduce caseloads by an estimated 40% and give more of the agency's tasks to private companies. Talton's amendment would require the state to ask a prospective foster parent if he or she is homosexual. Gays and lesbians would be eliminated from consideration, and foster children who live with gay parents would be removed from their homes. The measure would also allow the state to conduct investigations into a prospective or current foster parent's sexual orientation. "How would you ever impose this?" Walt asked. The American Psychiatric Assn. has concluded that children raised by gays or lesbians "exhibit the same level of emotional, cognitive, social and sexual functioning as children raised by heterosexual parents." http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-foster23apr23,0,7806067.story?coll=la-home-nation ---------------------------------------------------------------- This is something of a relief. But just the fact that the Texas legislature, called "The Lege" by those who have the misfortune to inhabit that state, even brought up such a bill sickens me to no end. Rep. Robert Talton, R-Pasadena, sponsored the amendment approved on a 81-58 vote. Just so you know, this is the asshole whose official e-mail you want to look up, and flood with messages condemning his reprehensible behavior. Here is what he said before the bill was shot down: "I don't think it is right for young children to be exposed to this type of behavior when they are young and innocent," Talton said. "It is our responsibilty to make sure that we protect our most vulnerable children and I don't think we are doing that if we allow a foster parent that is homosesxual or bisexual." So let me get this straight, Robert; you want to remove children from good foster homes just because you don't like the sexual orientation of the foster parents? And when exactly did the bedroom activities of consenting, responsible adults become any of YOUR fucking business? Or mine? Or anyone else's? In what way does the sexual orientation of a foster parent harm a child? It doesn't. Of course, since even the Texas Lege doesn't have the balls to pass such a gestapo-like measure, Talton has quickly and rightly shut his fucking mouth on the subject. But the fact that he even got a vote in favor of adding this piece of shit legislation to what would have been an otherwise good bill to protect children in abusive foster homes makes me want to hurl. Leave it to Republicans to turn anything decent into just another vehicle to push through their Stalinist agendas. In closing, I just want to say, "fuck you, Robert Talton."