(When in the course of human events the government becomes destructive of the ends for which it was established, it is the Right of the People to alter it and demand restoration of those Constitutional Principles that have so long assured their Liberty, Safety, and Happiness. Therefore, on the anniversary of our Independence, we offer this new declaration for our times.
View video for full declaration and/or read text, compliments of Firedoglake here.)
When I was a kid, back in the Precambrian era, the Fourth of July was a very big deal. America was a very big deal. We had emerged from two horrendous wars into an era of peace and prosperity. Ike showed us that it’s possible to morph from military to civilian mindset. We had not yet succumbed to pervasive fear about the Great Red Menace.
My childhood was arguably an intensely civil time in our country’s history. We were sick unto death of violence and bloodshed and shortages. Even I got that, and I wasn’t especially tuned in as a kid. (Also, I grew up in a Republican household, but that’s a story unto itself.)
The Fourth of July was one of several times each year when Americans showed our colors, sang our songs, and unapologetically went flat-out patriotic. It wasn’t all for show. It wasn’t about dueling extravaganzas (extravaganzae?). We meant it. We felt it.
For a few hours each July Fourth, my taciturn grandfather lay down his protective mantle and became a kid again. He loved this holiday. The parade in his small North Dakota town included . . . well, everyone. Much as Garrison Keillor noted in last week’s monologue about the Fourth in Lake Wobegon, the first parade had everybody in it, and then they did it again so some of them could watch. Please read on.
I was schlogging through the net’s miasma of bad, badder, baddest news when I stumbled onto the story, here and here. Instant tears. You, too? More as I write this. It’s an amazing thing, really.
Keith Kennedy is a 25-year-old man who has autism. And this summer, like summers before, Keith was attending an overnight camp in Wisconsin that is geared to people with special needs. One week ago, for whatever reason, he wandered away from camp. May even have been running. His father says Keith loves to run. Not away from, but rather running for joy. A beautiful but nearly deadly thing this time.
Keith’s parents said he speaks only four words. They also said he would be unlikely to respond to the voices of the searchers, even if they called his name. Add to that the fact that he needed daily anti-rejection medication for a decade-old kidney transplant and the odds were stacked heavily against him. Please read on.
So I just went to Susan’s link and read the Neil Justin piece from the Strib, wherein he reflects on the National Conference for Media Reform early this month in Minneapolis.
Justin is bummed because of the scarcity of mainstream media reps at the Conference. And it does appear there weren’t a lot of them. What he doesn’t say (and perhaps doesn’t know) is whether they were invited and declined. I don’t know either. And because I was doing my duty as a delegate to the DFL convention in Rochester that same weekend, I am now dependent on the MSM (and others) to fill in the blanks for me. Who you gonna believe?
Justin spotlights Arianna Huffington and Phil Donohue as the conference’s “luminaries” with a later, albeit negative, nod to Bill Moyers. I admit that frosted my cake. Moyers as second fiddle to . . . anyone? Okay, Moyers did take a hit when the wackadoodle Jeremiah Wright appeared on his show to proclaim that he’s not a wackadoodle. But Bill Moyers remains for me a touchstone for journalistic integrity. Was it ever thus with him? I don’t remember. Like much of this nation now, I didn’t much care back in the day.
Anyway, re Justin’s complaint that the MSM were not greatly represented, I see there were a couple of Strib “alumni” at the conference – notably Jeremy Iggers and Joel Kramer. Hardly lightweights. Also there were reps from CBS, MPR and KSTP, along with FCC commissioners Jonathan Adelstein and Michael Copps plus representatives from assorted institutions of higher learning, churches and a boatload of grassroots organizations. A pretty good smorgasbord, all in all. Oh, did I mention bloggers? There were bloggers. And there is more to this post.
Yesterday, David received a first-class letter from the IRS. On the front of the envelope was a boxed notice that said, among other things: Do not throw away! Thank God for that! Because, you know, we erudite progressives are so accustomed to living on the edge, we habitually toss communications from the IRS into the trash.
Understanding Your Economic Stimulus Payment, the letter begins. Then, fading to black, it continues: Please keep a copy of this notice for your records. It informs David that he will definitely receive his stimulus payment within four days (P.S., if he does not receive it within six weeks, he should be in touch). See update at end of post for a fab way to make Republicans go ballistic!
A funny thing happened to me on the way to the state Democratic convention. I found myself all blithery over the kerfuffle about Al Franken’s professional past. Yeah, me. A confirmed Franken delegate. And I don’t even watch television! So how did I get sucked into the vortex? Internet, mostly. News posted there. Blogs that I tend to trust. Even at that, some of the din was damning.
So who made all the noise? The image of The Music Man looms large, albeit benign in contrast with the poo-flingers of current time. Remember Harold “Trouble Right Here in River City” Hill?
Remember how Hill (not unlike the Bushlicans) breezed into town and stirred up a flap about the moral decay of River City’s young people in order to feather his own nest? He was so slick and practiced that he succeeded in manufacturing a crisis that no one save Marian the Librarian even thought to challenge. Everyone else was all a-tremble at the nearly apocalyptic scenario Hill painted for them.
Fade to Minnesota, where a gaggle of Republicans plus redoubtable Democrat Rep. Betty McCollum launched a full-frontal assault on the "secret" life of Al Franken. Just one problem with that, of course. Franken’s life is pretty much an open book. Several of them, in fact. Read more.
I got in to the Obama event in St. Paul the hard way. Stood outside in intermittent rain for more than four hours before being allowed to enter the building. Close to door-opening time, we saw helicopters circling around the Xcel Center, presumably part of security for Obama. Rumors were flying, too. Jimmy Carter was coming to endorse Obama. Hillary was going to graciously withdraw her candidacy. As is the way with rumors sometimes, these were false.
Once inside Xcel, we went through an airport-type security check, laying our dangerous Obama pins and lipsticks on the conveyer belt and then being motioned through the security scanner, waved forward like an endless string of 757s lumbering toward the gate. Actually, it heartened me to see some security in place.
My friend Louise and I scored fourth row seats—a perfect vantage point for an up-close if not personal viewing of the next president of the United States, Barack Obama.
Louise and I had hooked up in line with an African American group of youngish folks. They’d all taken time off work to be part of this historic event. A good thing, because only half of the 35,000 or so folks who showed up made it inside.
A 26-year-old woman who was part of that group was lamenting her failure to remember to bring tissues. She suspected she was going to weep profusely when Obama spoke. I gave her some of mine. She said she’d never dreamed she’d really see a black man in the Oval Office. But her comments ran more than skin deep.
She spoke knowledgeably about Obama’s positions on major issues. She didn’t portray him as a saint—simply as an immensely talented and capable leader. And one who has cast off the stale old techniques and blah-blah rhetoric that have resulted in two presidential defeats for Democrats. Read on.
Be sure to catch Jane Hamsher's post at Firedoglake. She lays out a strategery for giving our friend John McCain a lot of Google exposure that he likely would not have chosen for himself. You can help!
Jane has posted embedded hyperlinks (posted for you below as the Clothesline's contribution to upping the ante). The links steer Googlers to articles that tell the truth (gasp!) about McCain's policies and BushCo ties.
Help us raise the Google ranking of the following links. Jane says:
You can blogroll them, put them in your sig, add them in comments, or link one every time you use McCain's name. Or his "huggy bear" image.
Here's a link to OpenLeft for more particulars about how to do this.
Digg Jane's post, too, would you? It's a great way to increase readership of important information. In the absence of a responsible press, it's up to us!
1--McCain: US economic woes 'psychological'
2--McCain housing policy shaped by lobbyist
3--Bush, McCain plug Social Security
4--McCain blasts Obama's and Clinton's attacks on NAFTA
5--McCain in NH: Would Be "Fine" To Keep Troops in Iraq for "A Hundred Years"
6--McCain: Bush right to veto kids health insurance expansion
7--Senate passes expanded GI bill despite Bush, McCain opposition
8--McCain says overturn the law that legalized abortion
9--McCain Defends Bush's Iraq Strategy
BTW, it's estimated that this project could cost McCain 1% of the vote. Booyah!
I’ve been half-heartedly Googling this weekend, trying to find a particular photo dating back to my childhood. Even now, I can’t decide whether I really want to find it.
My family used to spend part of each summer at a rented cabin in northern Minnesota. My father was with us each weekend, commuting back and forth from the Twin Cities where he worked.
When he arrived on Friday evenings, we ate together, the four of us. My little brother would hit the sack early. As the elder kinder, I got to stay up on Friday night until I voluntarily retired myself. So while my parents busied themselves at the oilcloth-covered table in the kitchen, swatting mosquitoes, chatting and sucking up a few old fashioneds, I hunkered down to sort through the week’s mail from home.
There was rarely anything for me, but I had right of first refusal of all my parents' magazines. McCall’s, Ladies Home Journal, Life, Look, Saturday Evening Post, Collier’s. (Did I mention that I’m old as dirt? I thought not.) Those, and my kid magazine, Jack and Jill.
One of those summer Friday nights, I was lying on my belly in the living room, flipping the pages of Look Magazine. Part-way into it, there was a multi-page feature about the Korean War. Grown-up stuff. I was supremely naïve about war, even though my father had served in the South Pacific in WW II. And as I began thumbing through the Korean War photo essay, I had not the faintest premonition about what photos of war might reveal. Read on.
Houston, we have a problem. Well, Houston, Denver, LA, both Portlands, Kansas City, Atlanta, New York, Milwaukee, Little Rock, Albuquerque, etc.,etc., etc.
It seems that John McBush is a little confused. See for yourself at the above video that comes via Cliff Schechter's post at FDL.
Moreover, it seems that the MSM are reliably keeping a lid on McBush's McGaffes. So it's up to us. Share this broadly, will you? Read some more.
