I recently posted a diary that was met with all the vitriol I expected when it was posted. The funny thing was, the only substantive objections were that I had called Democrats losers and assholes, used a "freeper" term ("Democrap," which I frankly had no idea was a freeper term since I can't bear to visit that site), and made a comment (not even part of the diary) that I opposed the invasion of Afghanistan, apparently a fringe position despite the deplorable results of that action.
Long story short: I was told that the Democratic Party does not represent me.
Fine, then don't BLAME me when you don't get my vote. You have no one to blame but yourselves.
You are encouraged to scroll down to the bottom of the diary referenced above and read my final comments.
Why should I vote for a party that sells me down the river at every opportunity? More significantly, why should I trust or respect anyone who either:
a) Has no vision, no guts, no willingness to stand for what is right and against what is clearly evil
or (worse yet)
b) Wants to bamboozle me into believing that they are a true alternative when their every action tells me that they just want to keep their cushy jobs, replete with all manner of perks and privileges?
I'm not just tilting at windmills here. The reality of the situation is below the fold.
Why is everything so fucked up? Why are people killing and dying needlessly, and why is so much of our treasure being wasted on this endeavor? Why are so many unemployed and underemployed, and why are so many of the employed just barely able to make ends meet? Why is it that we are all one serious illness away from destitution? Why can't a kid read or do simple arithmetic when he graduates from high school? Why are two million incarcerated even as crime rages unabated? Why have the forces of evil seemingly gathered such strengh?
I'll tell you why. It's because they are organized and we are not.
Yesterday's diary regarding "giving up" on the Great American Sickout generated quite a bit of response, most of it snide and negative. My mojo took quite a beating and I even scored my first zero. But that's OK. Maybe I deserved it for dissing teachers; then again, I have met an awful lot of dumb, lazy teachers in my time, an observation statistically backed by the fact that the typical Education major's SAT score (>1000) is roughly 27 percent lower than what I would consider moderately respectable (~1300) so maybe I was on to something there. An ancient Chinese proverb says, "The one who got angry is the one who took the shit." (Translation for the figuratively challenged, of which there seem to be many around here: "If you get angry in a dispute, it's because you're the one who's in the wrong." I sure wasn't the one who got angry! In fact, I was giggling like a schoolgirl at some of the responses.
Well, it seems that the Great American Sickout is gaining little traction. I guess bitching on the Internet and hoping against hope to win obviously rigged elections in a year, after a few thousand more people have been killed and maimed, is strong enough medicine for most people. The war just doesn't make them as sick as it makes me, I guess. So this diary is my announcement that I give up. I surrrender. I concede defeat. I will be going to work on December 7 and on the 7th of every month. For me, the Great American Sickout is over. It was a good idea -- a great idea -- but it would be pointless to do it on a small scale.
This year you and every member of your family spent $305 on the war in Iraq. That's $1220 for a family of four. Now, I don't know about you, but I can think of a whole lot of better ways to spend that money. Hell, I'd even be willing to contribute my portion ($610) to deficit reduction if it meant helping some fiscally conservative Kool-Aid addicts get off the juice.
No matter how else the money might have been spent, I know one thing for sure: I don't like the idea of having bought the white phosphorus that burnt an entire neighborhood to the ground somewhere in Iraq. I don't like it one little bit. In fact, it makes me physically ILL just thinking about it. I need a day off. How about you?
People are dying and worse. My dad, a Vietnam vet, used to say that the dead ones are the ones that got off easy. It's the ones that live that have to live with horrible physical and psychic wounds for their entire lives that get the raw end of the war stick. Having crows feast on your dead eyeballs is easy compared to living each day of your life with the horror of what you've seen and done.
Any war is unspeakably horrible. This war is moreso.
Doesn't it just make you sick thinking about all the dead and wounded, the children who have lost parents, the parents who have lost children, the widows and the widowers? And all for a pack of FUCKING LIES!?
What are you willing to DO about it?
Get sick! Join the Great American Sickout on December 7. Show them that you're sick of it.
I am happy to report that the Strike for Peace and Truth is officially on. On December 7, tens of millions of workers (and even some bosses) in all sectors will withhold their labor. The cogs will tell the machine that we are cognizant, and we are none too pleased. Let me inform you as to why this action will be so historic and so powerful -- and it has little to do with the number of people who will participate.
[Edit: Changed title from "Fun Math..." to BUSH SUX..."]
Do you want to know why the National Strike for Truth and Peace on December 7 will be happening in a BIG way? It is because of two related factors:
The pure unmitigated power of the focussed collective human soul
The exponential function f(x)=a^x
Failure to understand the exponential function is the reason we have six billion people straining this beautiful planet's capacity to support us. It is the reason we are running out of oil.
On the positive side, the exponential function is the reason the General Strike for Truth and Peace will involve at least 100 million people around the globe and will change the course of history.
It's been a long and crazy day of work. Boy, am I ever looking forward to the personal day I'm going to take on December 7, Pearl Harbor Day, the day of the General Strike Against the War and For the Truth. Pardon me if this diary is not as comprehensive as it deserves to be. I'm tired, but I made a commitment to diary on the subject of the GSAWFT (Warning: Moniker subject to change) for seven days straight, and I honor my commitments.
The GSAWFT project addresses the issue of the Iraq War and its ancillary issues such as profligate spending and lies. It is a very simple idea: call in sick or stage a walkout on December 7. This date fits because it marks America's entry into a just war; let it also mark the beginning of our exit from an unjust war.
OK folks, the iron is hot, and it's time to STRIKE. Put your money where your mouth is and participate in a day of non-participation in the global economy. Show the "powers that be" where the true power lies. Let's SHUT THE FUCKER DOWN for a day.
This is a great idea that was kicked around in a diary about the student walkout today, November 2. At least one person has taken the ball and is starting to run with it... make that two, including me.
Gadzooks, we libs sure are dumb sometimes. We all need to read Sun Tzu's The Art of War before we play right into their hands -- again. The conservative reaction to Mier, her donation to Al Gore -- it is a smokescreen designed to let her slide right under the radar undetected. They know that by playing the ruse of pretending to oppose the nomination, we will be so thrilled and distracted that we will fail to ask the tough questions.
Through my ranting diary of yesterday, I became familiar with the pathos behind compulsive moderatism. It seems that it boils down to this:
*We don't want to alienate our base. Radicals make us look like nasty America haters.
*We're scared. Angry radicals are scary.
*There's no point in sacrificing oneself.
I'm sick to death of all the moderates saying that we should back off, eschew ANSWER, ignore any issue that might rub Bobby Dittohead the wrong way, become Republican Lite.
FUCK. that.
If we were really serious about ending this war and putting the criminals who started it behind bars, we'd all quit our jobs, grow out our hair, form a big-ass drum circle around the White House and not let up until the bastards LISTENED.
Remember old Tricky Dicky Cheney saying that American troops would be greeted as liberators? Remember Donny Dumbsfailed declaring looting a perfectly acceptable expression of freedom? Remember Shrubbie standing before the Mission Accomplished banner adorned in his manly flightsuit and oversized codpiece?
You didn't really believe those guys were that dumb, did you?
As a privileged member of the American elite -- by which I mean the top four quintiles of earners in this nation who enjoy unheard of luxuries such as clean running water, air conditioning, car trips to well stocked supermarkets, well lit streets, a plethora of entertainment options, etc. -- I am appalled that our leaders are rumored to be planning a full-scale attack on Iran. The catalyst for such an attack, presumably another 9/11-type event, is scary enough in itself since I live in NYC, but the longer-term fallout from such an event terrifies me. It scares me so much that I would hope to be at ground zero of such an attack rather than survive to suffer the greater consequences.
As a relative newbie to dKos -- as kick-butt a site as there is on the 'net -- I am not entirely familiar with the genesis of the whole "fraudster vs. 'reality-based'" debate, but the whole thing bugs me to no end.
First of all, a fraudster is someone who commits fraud. Those of us who take the position that fraud occurred on a massive scale in the 2004 elections are not fraudsters. You can imagine me in a tinfoil hat if it helps you deal with the fact that you are regularly lied to by the mass media and that you swallow these lies. But don't call me a fraudster.
Now that that's out of the way, let's get to the point: I'm throwing down a gauntlet.
