Mirth Control

Dr. Marcus and Congresswoman Michele Bachmann. See? I haven't even said anything yet and you're already smiling. That's because the visage of this couple brings mirth. It's like watching Rob and Laura Petrie run for president, only without the wisdom and good humor of the Dick Van Dyke Show. The Bachmanns have five children and have fostered twenty-three others, mostly troubled teens, and God bless them for it. In an age of hypocrisy, at least Michele Bachmann backs-up her virulent anti-abortion views by caring for children who have already been born. There is nothing less than admirable in being a foster parent. If having babies and rearing children were a major qualification for the presidency, however, the logical choice would be to vote for the Octomom. As for Bachmann, she signed a "pro-marriage pledge," last week, created by the Iowa nutbag organization, The Family Leader, that equated abortion, Sharia law, pornography, and gay marriage as evils, and insinuated that black children had it better under slavery. After an outcry of righteous disgust, the group decided to delete that particular paragraph. But not before Bachmann signed it. The only other signee to "the pledge" was Rick "man on dog" Santorum.

Dr. Marcus Bachmann, a self-described "Christian therapist," has come under public scrutiny when it was revealed that his federally funded counseling centers, Bachmann and Associates, offered religion-based, gay-to-straight, "reparative" therapy, a practice that has been derided as "dangerous" by respected psychological publications. The doctor claims that homosexuality is a choice and has advised the parents of potentially gay children that, "Barbarians need to be educated. They need to be disciplined. Just because someone feels it or thinks it doesn't mean that we are supposed to go down that road."  Dr. Bachmann later said that he never meant to refer to gays as "barbarians," but instead was referring to children, as if that made it better. I can't help it, but every time I look at this guy, he reminds me of the illegitimate son of former Dallas Cowboys Coach Jimmy Johnson and Liberace. I confess to having zero gaydar, but watching Marcus Bachmann doing the "Bop" onstage at a Tea Party Rally, was like watching Kevin Bacon on estrogen. From a guy that sounds like Woody Woodpecker and looks like Gorgeous George, I deduce that he's contemplated "going down that road" before. Maybe he's fathered five children but, let's face it, Dr. Bachmann makes Adam Lambert look butch. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Current inquiries have also raised questions about the doctor's credentials. Bachmann claims a PhD in Clinical Psychology from Union Graduate College in Ohio, only no such program existed when he graduated. Unlicensed in Minnesota, "Dr." Bachmann's clinics, while offering counselling services for addiction and other real-world problems, rely on Evangelical teachings enough to question their eligibility for federal funding. The "pray away the gay" therapy only exacerbates the problem. Michele has recently said that she "loves the homosexuals," as much as you can love someone who is an abomination in the sight of the Lord, but this was to neutralize her previous remarks. In an interview, she said that (homosexuality), "leads to the personal enslavement of individuals. If you're involved in the gay and lesbian lifestyle, it's bondage." Is there a straight "lifestyle" that I don't know about? And why do Evangelicals evoke gay imagery to describe human sexuality? Bachmann's campaign for an anti-gay marriage amendment and the Tea Party's social agenda has propelled her past Mitt Romney as the front-runner for the Republican nomination. Now, if we could only change her mind about slavery, perhaps she wouldn't talk about "bondage" so much.

Even Rudy Giuliani has advised Republican candidates to leave the gay marriage issue alone, but Bachmann continues marching as to war with Marcus at her side. Despite tub-thumping for the right-wing sex police, Bachmann claims the election is about economics so she can tout her law degree from Oral Roberts University, now Regents College. May I show you my philosophy degree from Lenny's College? Just before the kick-off to Bachmann's presidential campaign, she and Dr. Bachmann conveniently resigned their long-time membership in the Salem Evangelical Lutheran Church, just because the church teaches that the Catholic Pope is the Anti-Christ. Michele has claimed she is running for president under God's instructions. Do you suppose God told her to leave her church in order to avoid a Jeremiah Wright moment, or was that her decision? Bachmann's supernatural ascension to the Queen of the Tea Party has usurped Sarah Palin's former place on the charts just as surely as Barry White overtook Isaac Hayes. And to imagine, the leading contender for the Republican nomination's greatest legislative achievement is the Light Bulb Freedom of Choice Act.

In any other year, views like these from a presidential contender would be alarming. But the Tea Party led Republican Party have shown themselves to be buffoons and paid corporate shills who would sacrifice the American economy before siding with Obama on anything. These people can no longer be taken seriously and must be steamrolled like California 405 before progress is possible. So, please, nominate Michele Bachmann for president; or any of the other Birthers, climate change deniers, anti-abortion zealots, gay bashers, sovereign citizens, or tax refuseniks. Maybe in Obama's second term we can get serious about some New Deal-like jobs programs and governmental infrastructure repair projects and put the country back to work. This requires dealing with labor unions and other socialist organizations that the right abhors. But then, what don't they abhor? Last week's news featured Michele Bachmann leading in the Iowa caucuses, the deposed Glenn Beck receiving rock star treatment by the right-wing Israeli Knesset, and Rupert Murdoch's media empire under siege. I thought I was dreaming. Members of my generation might remember that old song by Thunderclap Newman; "There's Something In The Air." Depending on which way the wind blows, this election year could be a toxic event for right-wing extremists.

The Trials of the Anthonys

It's a bit early in the millennium for a "trial of the century," but here we go again. And just like the trial of O.J. Simpson in 1995, the nation is riveted by the live televised courtroom drama of the trial of Casey Anthony for the murder of her 2-year-old daughter, Caylee. A large coterie of commentators that analyze every word of testimony has become a nightly staple for trial-watchers, and a whole new lexicon of phrases has entered the national conversation: "Smell Test," "Chloroform Searches," "Hot Body Contests," "Shot Girls," and "Bella Vita." A cast of characters, in and out of court, complete the sideshow, including fistfights among queued citizens hoping for a seat, and the arrest of one spectator caught on camera giving the finger to the lead prosecutor. So far, he's the only one that's been sentenced to jail. The pundits also hail back to the O.J. trial. Marcia Clark showed up on CNN with Dan Abrams, while Fox News went with Mark Fuhrman. The network of record for the trial is Headline News, which features post-court analysis by Dr. Drew Pinsky, big-haired Jane Velez-Mitchell, Joy Behar, and the venomous Nancy Grace, inventor of the phrase, "Tot Mom." If the verdict depended on public opinion, Nancy Grace would be swabbing "Tot Mom's" arm right now.

The trial gives us the most intimate view since the Loud Family in the 1970s of the inner-dynamics of a dysfunctional household. This is also basically a story about mothers and their daughters. Ratings show the overwhelming number of trial viewers are women with young children.  Like most sane people, they can't believe that any mother would murder her own child in order to "live the good life," as the prosecution charges. Since Caylee disappeared in June, 2008, we have come to know this family and their tortured story. Between George's cries, Cindy's lies, and Casey's sighs, we feel the grief of these parents torn between the death of a grandchild and the potential loss of a daughter as well. The courtroom demeanor of Casey Anthony, however, can only be described as chilling. While she scoffs at her fathers' tears and gazes at her mother with thinly disguised contempt, her stoic expression and hollow eyes are filled with a soullessness that no testimony could ever capture. Even an occasional viewer of  Law and Order knows she's guilty as hell, but why does she need to drag her entire family down with her?

Everybody lies in court, from the attorneys to the police, but Casey Anthony is the Michelangelo of lying. She has more imaginary friends than I have real ones. Casey created "Zanny the Nanny" from a name on an apartment guest register. But she didn't just take the woman's name, she created a mother and sister for the phantom babysitter, supplied marital information and gave her a college education. Among the innocents victimized by this case, a real person named Zenaida Fernandez-Gonzales had her life ruined for sport. Casey thought the more elaborate the lie, the more believable, and thus walked the police all the way into Universal Studios before admitting she didn't  work there, despite the fact she had been getting up and going to her fake job for two years. If she is such a nimble liar, my question is, did she believe she could remain free while they searched for the fabricated nanny forever? And if her child drowned, as the defense claims, how to explain the fresh tattoo she got the next day, or the month of hard-partying before admitting her daughter was missing? Casey suffers from the narcissism of the assumed pretty. Her pals were all hooking-up and her boyfriend du jour didn't want a child around. Hot bodies are fleeting.

Unlike the O.J. trial, defense attorney Jose Baez is no Johnny Cochran. His slogan should be, "If your lawyer gets licked, you must convict." Either Casey looked in the Yellow Pages for "Worst Attorneys in Orlando," or she hired him from "Lawyers R' Us." His fumfering, ill-prepared delivery makes him look particularly clumsy next to the professionalism of prosecutor Jeffrey Ashton.  Baez' stunning opening statements about sexual abuse, incest, and the accusation that George Anthony covered up  his granddaughter's drowning were left hanging in the air like the stench of death in a car trunk. Casey watched impassively while her counsel allowed Cindy to perjure herself in an effort to save her daughter's life. Not possessing any such motherly instincts, Casey is like a human wrecking ball, destroying everything in her path. The deleted computer searches sink both Casey and Cindy, who now faces charges of perjury. All the news-talkers expressed amazement at the ineptitude of Jose Baez but after his fourth rebuke from Judge Belvin Perry, I began to glimpse his genius strategy. He needs more time to develop his theory that the meter-reader did it, so regardless of the jury's verdict, an appeals court is bound to grant Casey a new trial on the grounds of incompetent counsel.

With the Florida death penalty at stake, this is truly reality television. Most likely, Casey will never reveal what actually happened to Caylee. Jose Baez conjured an image of George Anthony holding his drowned grandchild while plotting the disposal of her remains, then he never mentioned it to the jury again. My favorite new legal opiner, attorney Mark Eiglarsh, said "It's hard to prove murder without a cause of death." After 84 Google searches for "chloroform," and additional searches for "neck-breaking," and "internal bleeding," on the family computer, any reasonable juror might suspect pre-meditation, regardless of the cause of death. The emotionless Casey may finally show traces of humanity after she is convicted, but because of the overwhelming sympathy for Cindy and the wrecked Anthony family, she'll be spared the death penalty. Whatever the result of this sad episode, a child is dead and a family is ruined. A life sentence might allow Casey the time to train her hyper-imagination toward writing fiction. And if she still misses her party-girl life, I hear there's lots of sex in prison. Personally, I'd like to see "Tot Mom" put under house arrest. Only, it has to be in Nancy Grace's house.

Greatest Generation My Ass

Can we stop all this "Greatest Generation" nonsense yet? It's indisputable that the fighting force that battled the Axis Powers in WWII showed incredible gallantry and sacrifice, as did the civilian population during wartime. The nation's war effort was a collective undertaking, combining soldiers' bravery and citizen resolve. Corporations transformed their factories into armories where women worked the assembly lines in the absence of men who were serving their country, and everyone supported the troops because the soldiers were us. After the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, men from every station rushed to enlist in the military. No American family was left untouched by the war, and the leadership of government, armed with a righteous cause, rose to the occasion. If there were ever a war worth fighting, this was it. The defeat of Fascism and Nazism by the U.S. military and our allies was among the noblest  achievements of the 20th century, and for that, the generation that fought and sacrificed so much deserves to be called "the greatest." After the war was over? Maybe not so great.

The former mush-mouth anchorman, Tom Brokaw, has created a cottage industry celebrating our parents' and grandparents' exploits in war. I know I bought a copy of his "The Greatest Generation" to give to my dad one Fathers' Day. The book proved to be such a cash bonanza that Brokaw followed up with "The Greatest Generation Speaks," a series of letters and interviews with former soldiers. Brokaw's gravy train slowed when he discovered that his planned third book in the trilogy, "The War Lover," had already been written by John Hersey. But just when Brokaw was becoming the wrinkled equivalent of a teen-idol for the aged, the cause was joined by director Steven Spielberg and actor Tom Hanks. One WWII vet was quoted as saying that Tom Hanks has spent more time filming the war than the actual soldiers did fighting it. Suddenly, WWII movies were back in vogue, and Hanks and Spielberg became the John Wayne and John Ford of this generation, as if every conceivable battle were not already portrayed by a Hollywood movie. Post-war kids were fed a steady diet of films celebrating war; "30 Seconds Over Tokyo," "Back to Bataan," "To Hell and Back," "Flying Leathernecks," "Sands of Iwo Jima," and so on. War seemed so damned exciting, I could hardly wait until I was old enough to go kill somebody in battle and be a quiet hero about it when I got back.

War seemed a rite of passage for American men and we were certain that God was on our side. However, a  golden opportunity was missed to remedy the societal inequities in this country that were magnified by the war. One million black men served in WWII with the hopes that their patriotic service would be rewarded, yet they were segregated into separate units in the Army, the Navy limited blacks to service roles like cooks and janitors, and the Marines excluded them altogether. Everyone knows about the internment camps where Japanese-Americans were stockpiled after Pearl Harbor. Less well-known are the first-hand accounts of black soldiers returning home from the war and being forced to sit in segregated sections of trains and buses, while Nazi prisoners of war received the accommodations and amenities reserved for whites. 400,000 German and Italian prisoners were transported to the U.S. during the war and confined to military bases, mainly in the South. While black soldiers were relegated to separate facilities, prisoners of war were permitted to dine with white officers and enlisted men. The war against the rabid racist Hitler was fought with the most segregated army in history. Although President Truman ordered the military desegregated in 1948, it wasn't accomplished until the sixties. The civil rights movement was the direct result of the unjust society left in place after the war.

The 1950s are often portrayed in fictions like "Grease," and "Happy Days," but the reality was far more grim. In prosperous, post-war America, with Ike on the golf course and the Korean conflict concluded, it may have seemed as if all was well with the world. But these were also the days of the Cold War, "duck and cover" drills, McCarthyism and red baiting, black-listing and Jim Crow. While white America embraced a corporate culture and a celebration of consumption, seeds of unrest were sown in  those left out of the "American Dream," and their children. A new phrase entered the lexicon: "Juvenile Delinquent," and it was no coincidence that the boldest critique of society came from the movie "Rebel Without a Cause." A straight line can be drawn from this film about teenage alienation to Elvis Presley, and then the generational breach became irreparable. It might have been different, but the "Greatest Generation" had turned into the "Whiskey and War Generation" that instituted segregation, glorified war, and assumed an authoritarian puritanism that ultimately caused their children to erupt in social protest.

Such a mindset created the Vietnam War, the meat grinder which caused my generation to turn into schizoid Mouseketeers. Our patriotic parents could not understand why anyone would object to fighting in an ideological politicians' racist war. Add to that unrest a president who accrued votes by pitting the old against the young and a "Generation Gap" materialized. The so-called "counterculture" would never have happened without the Vietnam War. Say what you will about hippie excess, but the unifying message of non-exclusivity, and the belief that all people had value, was closer to Martin Luther King's vision of a "Beloved Society" than the "Love it or leave it" sentiment of the "Silent Majority" of militant patriots. My bi-polar generation is best represented by Bill Clinton on one hand, and George W. Bush on the other, dividing my age-group between those that dropped acid in the 60s and those that did not. People of all ages have fought the good fight, but the societal progress made since WWII in civil rights, women's equality, and human rights were accomplished in spite of the so-called "Greatest Generation." They were magnificent in wartime. Then they became Republicans.

Republican'ts

If I were a Republican... Oops, pardon me; I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. Let me rephrase that. If I were a principled conservative concerned about my party, I believe I would stop fighting it and just hand the steering wheel over to the Tea Party for the coming elections. Perhaps a stunning political defeat, like the Democrats suffered in 1972, will finally force the Greedy Obsolete Party to divest itself of the right-wing fringe element whose borderline insanity is destroying the final vestiges of a once formidable organization. Only an electoral smack-upside-the-head can convince these zealots that their reactionary philosophy of gutting governmental social programs, taxes, public schools, and labor unions is unacceptable to a civil society. Their attempts to lower the deficit by slashing popular programs that benefit the elderly or less fortunate, while leaving the Bush tax cuts intact, is simply immoral. The oblivious Tea Party is unaware that Poppy Bush had to raise taxes in the wake of the deficits caused by Ronald Reagan's tax cuts, and still cling to the discredited, supply-side, "trickle down" theory that was the bedrock of Reaganomics. When Newt Gingrich criticized the Paul Ryan budget plan that all Republican office-seekers must embrace to win the support of the party, he was pilloried by the radical right as too liberal. This is the man who led the "Republican Revolution" of 1994.

That old George Santayana quote about those ignorant of history being condemned to repeat it has grown tired, so let's try another: "History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce." Groucho's cousin, Karl Marx, wrote that, and though I heard it long ago, I never really knew what it meant until I  began watching it play out in front of my eyes. Now the meaning is unmistakable. The tragic backdrop for the unmaking and splintering of the Democratic Party in the sixties was the Vietnam War. In refusing to support the liberal Hubert Humphrey's candidacy for president because of his association with LBJ's disaster, the left-wing Democrats handed the presidency to Richard Nixon. After four more years of unrelenting horror, the Democratic Party was dominated by a radical, anti-war left whose tactics were repugnant to a great part of the electorate. Their nominating convention was a circus, yet they still managed to put forth a credible anti-war candidate in Senator George McGovern and a moderate running-mate in Missouri Senator Thomas Eagleton. I knew it was over the day I saw the newspaper headline, "Eagleton Admits to Past Shock Treatments." Electric shock therapy was the standard treatment for depression at the time, but still too shocking for voters to accept. Despite his broken promises, Nixon won 49 states.

The ongoing self-destruction of the GOP presents itself as farce this time, as the least qualified, most rabid anti-intellectuals of the Tea Party are calling the shots. Party members like Mike Huckabee, Haley Barbour, or Mitch Daniels, already see the writing on the wall and are sitting this one out, encouraging carnival freaks like Rick "Man on Dog" Santorum, and secessionist Texas Governor Rick Perry to consider a presidential run. Congresswoman Michele Bachmann, though not yet an official candidate, told Iowa Public Radio that she has received the "calling" from God to run for the nation's highest office and promptly called for the teaching of Creationism in public school science classes. The clueless Mitt Romney has had to run against his own record as Governor of Massachusetts in order to pander to the Republican pit bulls, and Tim Pawlenty is still groping for a message. The desperate, discredited neo-cons are courting Jeb Bush, while disillusioned party elders see a large prospect in high-flying New Jersey Governor Chris Christie. And then there's Sarah Palin.

Palin believes that running for president is like vying for Miss Wasilla, and that a lack of substance can always be overcome by a "cute" personality. Her patriotic bus tour of American historic sights has become the most hilarious rolling disaster since the last Cheech and Chong road movie. Her knife-and-fork pizza summit with Donald Trump in New York City, where she strapped on a gigantic, silver Star of David, was only trumped by her visit to the Old North Church in Boston, where she explained the midnight ride of Paul Revere. According to Palin, Revere "warned the British by ringing those bells and sending up those warning shots and bells that we were gonna' be secure and free." So much for that "One if by land, two if by sea" business. When Fox News pointed out that she blew the Paul Revere story, Palin blamed the media and said it was "a gotcha" question, then insisted that her interpretation was correct. "Part of (Revere's) ride was to warn the British that were already there that 'hey, you're not going to take American arms; you are not going to beat our own well-armed persons individual private militia that we have.'" And this genius is currently polling at the top of prospective Republican presidential wannabees. The Tea Party is correct in one of their notable rallying cries. We do think they're stupid.

By the time the Vietnam War tore the Democratic party apart, they had already lost a previously dependable voter base. They didn't call it the "Solid South" for nothing, but LBJ's fight for civil rights legislation caused him to remark that the south would be lost to the Democrats for a generation. The party's sin was not in alienating white southern voters, but for ever granting political cover to openly racist and segregationist politicians in the first place. Ultimately, the extremists founded aggrieved third parties and ran their belligerent candidates, from Strom Thurmond to George Wallace, who demonized the "gub'ment," and the "pointy-headed intellectuals." Republicans will learn the same hard lesson for ever harboring the Tea Party within their ranks. Should the Republicans nominate an unacceptable "moderate" like Mitt Romney, there is every chance that the Tea Party will morph into a radical third party as early as next year and run their own candidate. Whoever their frothing mouthpiece turns out to be, he or she will only help to re-elect Barack Obama, while simultaneously destroying what remains of the current, anti-government Republican Party. I call that a win-win.

Conan the Scumbag

There's a reason men reach their sexual peak at 18 while woman don't get there until age 40. It gives men a quarter-century or so to calm down and take the edge off of their sexual frenzy, so that when the time comes for mature sexual activity, they will supposedly have enough self-control not to act like a Schitzu in heat. Comedian Eddie Griffin stated that a man's sexual organ is designed to last about as long as the speed limit, depending on where you live. It's a good thing Jimmy Carter's not still president or we'd all be driving 55. This bizarre rash of post-manopausal, paunchy, middle-agers, participating in sex scandals and fathering love-children well into their sixties, however, illustrates that certain types of men never outgrow their jackrabbit, youthful ways. And while the cornucopia of pills for erectile dysfunction is succeeding in making their penises harder, they are simultaneously making their brains softer. I usually try to abide by that "Judge not," admonition and avoid commenting on the private lives of celebrities. I've lived a rock and roll life, and while most people have a skeleton or two in the closet, I still have red meat hanging in there. But this latest rash of high profile sexual atrocities is giving all men a bad name, and in the words of Paul Newman as "Hud," "Don't go blaming all the dogs just cause one of 'em has fleas."

Last week's arrest of International Monetary Fund director Dominique Strauss-Kahn illustrates the audacity of certain powerful men who have become so used to abusing women with impunity, they feel entitled to act as they wish and the consequences be damned. Strauss-Kahn, or DSK, as the media has dubbed him, has allegedly committed sexual assault on a chambermaid in a pricey New York hotel with a recklessness and aggression too nasty to describe outside a court of law. His first defense was to say that the sex was consensual. The maid walked in while DSK was naked, so he had no choice but to assault the woman. In the hundreds of hotel rooms I have stayed in my life, I have never felt the desire to grope the maid who comes to clean the room. But, of course, DSK is French, and they don't look as unfavorably at sexual "dalliances" as we unsophisticated provincials in the USA. When an old, wrinkled, horny man forces himself upon a servant, we still tend to call it "rape." At first, they put DSK in Rikers Island and strapped him into an anti-suicide vest to keep him from harming himself. A man with an ego so large he thought he could take one to go and get away with it, is not about to kill the person he loves most; himself.

Strauss-Kahn made bail and received one of the sweetest house arrest deals ever. He's in a protected Manhattan high rise with an ankle bracelet while awaiting trial. However, he will be permitted to attend religious services and doctor's appointments, and in addition to family members, he is allowed up to four visitors at a time. He is also restricted from being out between 10pm and 6am. This is punishment? It sounds more like my everyday waking life, minus the ankle bracelet. DSK's lawyers insisted he was not a flight risk despite the fact that he was sitting on a plane when arrested. This is obviously a job for the Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. On television, at least, they aren't so lenient concerning rapists' accommodations. So while DSK sits in a penthouse professing his profound love for his wife, the tabloid media has staked out the residence of the maid and has kept her under virtual house arrest as well. A bidding war has started for photographs of the victim and her neighbors have been bombarded with questioning "journalists." Wasn't there a time when the identity of a rape victim was kept confidential? I suppose with TMZ, Access Hollywood, and other programs devoted to celebrity gossip, that has become a quaint notion from an unenlightened age.

TMZ went wild over the Schwarzenegger revelations that he fathered a child with the family maid and kept it quiet for his tenure as Governor of California. Even in a state accustomed to electing movie stars to public office, this was beyond the pale. TMZ accused the maid of "pursuing Arnold," as if she were just too alluring to resist, but the tawdriness of his "any port in a storm" mentality and the massive deception perpetrated on not only his wife and family, but the California electorate, is unbelievably repugnant. Arnold may have considered himself a Kennedy, but at least JFK had Marilyn Monroe and left the help alone. Schwarzenegger left office with a 20 percent approval rating, so it's a safe bet to say, "He won't be back." The outpouring of sympathy towards Maria Shriver, who had to live a decade with Arnold's love child hanging out at the governor's mansion while the maid continued to work 10-14 more years for the family, has caused Arnold to rethink his current plans. Confident he could return as the "Terminator: The Geriatric Years," all movie projects have been put on hold, including an animated series called "The Governator," in which Schwarzenegger was to be portrayed as a "Superhero living a double life." His partners at Archie Comics and Stan Lee Enterprises felt that this particular "double life" was too unbelievable even for a cartoon.

By now, the list of politicians from both parties involved in marital infidelities or reckless sexual conduct has become common knowledge. Beginning with Bill "Elvis" Clinton, the current list extends from whoremongers like David Vitter and Elliot Spitzer, to homewreckers like John Ensign and John Edwards. And let's not forget Governor Mark Sanford's stroll down the Old Appalachian Trail. My favorite excuse comes from serial philanderer Newt Gingrich, who said his love of country caused him to cheat on his wives. "Driven by how passionately I felt about this country..I worked far too hard and things happened in my life that were not appropriate." A statement that absurd gives me cause to worry about his "passion" for the country.  Should he receive the Republican nomination for president, it sounds like he plans to screw us all. Henry Kissinger once said that, "Power was the ultimate aphrodisiac," while the aging professor squired movie starlets half his age about town. It was a ridiculous spectacle, but at least Kissinger wasn't married at the time, and without access to Viagra, the public was spared from imagining Kissinger and Jill St. John "en flagrante delicto." No more. Armed with Cialis, old men have set out like Don Quixote, lance in hand, to conquer the world. A brand new medical study just stated that Viagra can cause hearing loss. At least this gives women a "heads up." Watch out for the ones with the hearing aids.

Show Me the Mullah

Ya'll know me. I'm usually the raging advocate for liberal causes. But every now and then, an issue arises that seems clear to me, but puts me in the opposite camp from my progressive friends. I vociferously disagree with the president's decision not to release the Osama bin Laden death photo, and I uncomfortably find myself on the same side as Alan Dershowitz, Sarah Palin, and a mess of right-wing Republicans. Conspiracy theories began to sprout the moment bin Laden's death was announced. CIA Director Leon Panetta initially announced that "ultimately, a (proof of death) photograph would be presented to the public," but someone quickly yanked his leash. The government needs to post the photo tomorrow, not for the prurient pleasure of revenge seekers or lovers of gore, but to send a message to jihadists, active or potential, that if you attack the United States, this is the fate that awaits you. Already, the Pakistani residents of Abbottabad are denying that the terror kingpin was ever among them. Even though Al Qaeda acknowledged bin Laden was killed, there are thousands of people who believe that Elvis faked his own death to escape the limelight and lives in Michigan. Hell, there are people that still think Hitler survived WWII and is spending his dotage in Paraguay. And Mr. President, 33% of Republicans think you're a foreigner, and 20% believe you're a Muslim. Why would you think they would take your word for it about bin Laden? These are the same people who believe John F. Kennedy was kept on life support at Bethesda Naval Hospital after his brain went missing.

Speaking of JFK, is there anyone left that has not yet seen the Zapruder film? If I can take watching President Kennedy getting his brains blown out ("back, and to the left"), I can stand a photo of bin Laden with a hole in his head. Yet, the president remains cautious, so as not to further inflame homicidal zealots that hate and want to kill us anyway. These are the savages that beheaded journalist Daniel Pearl and posted it on the internet. When the military caught up with the assassin, Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the Bush posse blew up the photo of his dead ass, poster size, for the world to see, and there was one less delusional killer making snuff videos in Iraq. We have lived with the horror of Al Qaeda for twenty years and three presidents now. Show them the photo and give them a taste, and if some naughty people want to make computer games and YouTube videos of the graphic image of a dead Osama; oh well. Freedom of the press gets messy sometimes. Were the decision mine, I'd drop copies of the photo from a helicopter over the Pakistanis that harbored him, and send a special 8x10 glossy to Ayman al-Zawahiri with the phrase "Sic Semper Tyrannis" engraved underneath.

The U.S. Navy granted bin Laden more respect in death than he gave to his thousands of victims, but the burial at sea better have been videotaped. When the Fascists were defeated in Italy, they hanged Mussolini, and his wife, upside down in the town square. When Nicolae Ceausescu lost his job as Butcher of Romania, the photo of his bloody corpse finally gave surcease to his suffering subjects. The president claims publishing a dead Osama picture will cause an "incitement to violence." Is he kidding? The Shia and Sunni in Iraq are killing each other for sport. If it's our troops Obama is concerned about, go ahead and bring them home. The drone strikes are effective and, despite their vow to avenge the death of bin Laden, Al Qaeda's collective sphincter just tightened several notches. The president says he doesn't want to give the terrorists an iconic image to exploit, but he's a bit late for that. Think of Osama and the turbaned image is already imprinted in your mind. The Bolivian Army was forced to publish pictures of the bullet-riddled body of Che Guevara on a slab to prove that he was dead, but that's not the iconic image people wear on their T-Shirts.

I was once a turn-the-other-cheek pacifist, until age and experience convinced me that some people are so obtuse, the only way to get your point across is with a smack upside the head. My Georgia in-laws will forgive me for referencing General William Tecumseh Sherman's quote; "Make war so terrible (and) make them so sick of war that generations would pass away before they would again appeal to it." President Truman followed the Sherman example to end the war against Japan. Despite the horror of war, no amount of diplomacy will dissuade a generation raised on the glory of the mujahedeen from ceasing their hostilities against the West. The U.S. created and armed this monster to fight the Russians during the Reagan era. It's only fitting that our soldiers should also destroy them and their charismatic leader. Thanks to the fresh efficiency of the CIA and military, Al Qaeda has been reduced to a bunch of bitter, womenless men, riding dirt bikes and playing guerrilla in the mountains of the Hindu Kush. Motor scooters can't cross an ocean. Unquestionably, some deranged individuals will try to commit some new atrocity on U.S. soil, but the threat of bin Laden's Al Qaeda is essentially over. We have their Rolodex. Since the "Arab Spring" is sweeping the Middle East, the U.S. has an opportunity to embrace a new generation, disenchanted with despots and jihad that offer only death and despair.

Nip these cancerous conspiracies in the bud by publishing the post-mortem photograph. Even then, some people will still believe it never happened, just as others won't accept Obama's birth certificate. If this drags on, Donald Trump will insist on seeing a "death certificate." Traditionally hawkish GOP legislators are suddenly questioning the legality of the targeted killing, and the sloppy way the administration rolled out the narrative only aided their cause. They raised the questions: did bin Laden hide behind his 18 year old wife? Was he holding something or reaching for a weapon? Personally, I don't care if he had the remote control or his dick in his hand - good shot guys. Maybe I've lived in Memphis so long, a bit of redneck has rubbed off on me, but I've come to agree with my Texas cousins' aphorism that "some people just need killin'." After the destruction of American embassies in Tanzania and Kenya, the bombing of the U.S.S. Cole, the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, plus hideous acts of terror in London, Madrid, Mumbai, and Indonesia, no one in the world had it coming more than bin Laden. And when they got him, he was planning a 9/11 tenth anniversary attack on U.S. railways. Fuck him, post the head shot. I trust and believe President Obama, but if my position is conservative, I may as well quote Ronald Reagan, who once famously said, "Trust, but verify."

Stalingrad on Lake Michigan

"Benton Harbor, Michigan is like many rust-belt cities which have lost all of their manufacturing plants. Half the residents live below the poverty line and the town of 10,000 has lost population since that last census. Across Lake Michigan from Chicago, Benton Harbor is half of a "twin cities" combo with neighboring St. Joseph. The "twins" couldn't look more different, however. Benton Harbor is 92% African American and impoverished; St. Joseph is 90% white and affluent. While the nation's attention was on the war against public unions in Wisconsin, newly elected Michigan Republican Governor Rick Snyder has chosen Benton Harbor as the test case for his "financial martial law" bill. Snyder proposed that any municipality deemed economically unfit be taken over by a state appointed "emergency manager," with the power to dissolve contracts and replace or dismiss locally elected officials. The notion is laughably unconstitutional on its face, but the Michigan State Legislature passed the bill anyway and the Governor has already designated his first "manager," who has taken over the township of Benton Harbor. The decision-making power of the City Council has been suspended. Elected officials are allowed to hold meetings, only they are no longer allowed to govern. The state legislature cocked and loaded the gun and the governor pulled the trigger. He killed Democracy. If you thought the citizen protests in Wisconsin were impressive, wait until this load of neo-Republicanism hits the fan in Lansing.

Snyder is part of a cabal of new Republican governors, including Walker of Wisconsin, Kasich in Ohio, and Scott in Florida, who are waging war on the working class. Emboldened by a congressional majority and backed by the Tea Party, the neophyte governors entered political office with a greater desire to impose a political philosophy than to serve the people, and this bait and switch has caused their approval ratings to plummet. Yet they continue to serve their corporate masters and pass legislation punishing the poor. In the name of deficit reduction, Gov Snyder has proposed deep cuts in  school funding and favors eliminating the state's $600 per child tax credit. At the same time, he has called for tax cuts of 1.73 billion dollars for business. In hapless Benton Harbor, meanwhile, the Whirlpool corporate headquarters still provides executive positions for the few while the people have lost their plant. With no powerful voices to oppose it, the public lakefront has been privatized as part of a luxury golf development, backed by Whirlpool. Since the Michigan jobless rate stands at 10.7%, I'm certain they'll need some caddies.

Governor Snyder's previous job was founder and CEO of an Ann Arbor venture capital fund, which made him very wealthy. His choice for Benton Harbor's "emergency manager," was Joseph Harris, formerly Chief Financial Officer for the city of Detroit, a dubious distinction. Harris' decree, stripping power from elected officials in favor of his fiat, were reminiscent of an old Commissar sending a politburo apparatchik to tend to a provincial problem. The township takeover has caused sufficient uproar for the ACLU to file several Freedom of Information Act requests over the legality of the act and the governor's alleged collusion with lobbyists. The Michigan ACLU stated that 100 local governments were in a state of "fiscal watch," which has not slowed "manager" Joe Harris, who has added the Detroit School District to the state's list of distressed assets, enabling the governor to appoint an additional manager with the power to void any and all union contracts. This is the antithesis of the smaller, less intrusive government favored by real conservatives, yet you don't see any Tea Party or Fox News rallies protesting the elimination of representative democracy.

Although Governor Snyder has stated his focus will be on budget issues, the state legislature has joined with new Republican super-majorities elsewhere in an effort to restrict women's reproductive rights. Michigan legislators have proposed 17 bills since January concerning abortion or public funding for organizations like Planned Parenthood. This perfectly mirrors the federal government. While creating all those new jobs, the Republican House of Representatives has still managed to introduce an astounding 916 bills over a woman's right to control her own uterus. Those bills are going nowhere, but the Michigan statehouse has a two-thirds majority of radical Republicans, giving them the power to put any issue of their choosing on the ballot. The National Organization of Women has mobilized, as well as a group called Michigan Citizens United, which has started a Facebook page in their efforts to collect the sufficient number of signatures to petition for a recall of the governor. Snyder responded by adding the cities of Pontiac and Ecorse to the list of distressed places in need of an "emergency manager."

Ordinarily, I would enjoy watching the Republican Party self-immolate. Hell, I'd even bring the marshmallows. But this drastic overreach by a handful of ideological power zombies is not just a danger to working people or distressed municipalities, it's corrosively un-American. And it is happening in state legislatures across the country and done in stealth, lest the constant news gaze upon Washington, D.C. be diverted by actions on the periphery. The GOP majority Tennessee General Assembly just passed a bill prohibiting the use of the words "gay" or "homosexual" in elementary schools, but if the new Governor should send his man to Memphis to dissolve our elected city government, I might have to be up in the capital building in Nashville creating a ruckus. In Michigan, the people voted for a CEO-led government and they got a centralized body to make decisions for the state, a totalitarian figure-head for a leader, corporate lobbyists, anti-union propaganda, and political coercion from a radical majority. Back in the thirties, we used to have a name for that kind of governing: Fascism. Our parents and grandparents fought a war against it. Remember?

Budgetary Buffoonery

Does anyone believe that this latest political impasse that came within an hour of  padlocking the government actually had anything to do with the budget? If so, I have some shares of National Public Radio that I'd like to sell you. I know, it's not a private company. Yet. Just give them time. It's typical for the Republicans to begin eviscerating social programs when they assume power, but this Tea Party uprising is starting to resemble The Lord of the Flies, when the bullies victimize the weak until the grown-ups arrive. How else to explain the willingness to hold our soldiers' paychecks hostage to the government funding of Planned Parenthood?

This supposed attempt at reducing the federal deficit was a congressional comedy from beginning to end, starring John Boehner as the substitute teacher in a juvenile corrections facility. The stated intent was to create jobs and strengthen the economy, but the Tea Party novices muscled away the wheel of the bus and turned the discussion into all abortion, all the time. The insane crusade against Planned Parenthood in the midst of a budget crisis revealed the Tea Party Republicans as the zealots for their social and moral agenda that they are. Civically challenged Indiana Rep. Mike Pence took to the House floor to declare that Republicans were willing to shut down the government if the Democrats didn't "respect our values," while outside, Tea Party activists chanted, "Cut it or shut it." Arizona Sen. John Kyl addressed the rally saying, "If you want an abortion, you go to Planned Parenthood, and that's well over 90% of what (they) do." In truth, 96% of the organizations' activities consist of cancer screenings, STD or STI testing, contraception, counselling, pregnancy testing and pre-natal care. Abortions are referred to medical professionals since the Hyde Amendment already forbids public funds for that purpose. Republicans lied, Democrats enabled them, and Margaret Sanger just rolled over in her grave.

It's difficult to imagine that a scant 11 years ago, the U.S. had a balanced budget and a federal surplus of $230 billion. "But 9/11 changed everything," the argument goes. It certainly did. 19 homicidal men, armed with nothing more than sharp objects and an audacious plan, attacked landmarks of finance and government with hi-jacked domestic airliners, and caused this nation to go berserk. The Pentagon budget soared, our military invaded and occupied two countries, and our president told the nation to go shopping while Wall Street looted the treasury. That's why we run a $12 trillion deficit for which China is holding the marker. I'm no economist, but it seems the logical thing to do is extract ourselves from the entire, misguided fiscal and military morass we find ourselves in and disassemble the failed Bush policies that put us there. And that first means ending the two shooting wars we are currently fighting and bringing home our troops, not just from Afghanistan and Iraq, but from Germany, Japan, and Korea as well. The U.S. spends as much on defense as the rest of the world combined. The Bipartisan Poling Center recommends the reduction of our armed forces by 275,000 troops, and a Barney Frank/Ron Paul led congressional committee found that reducing our military presence in Europe and Asia by 1/3, would save $347 billion. Currently, we spend seven times as much as China, which is in second place.

The budget battle was like a bantamweight preliminary to the main event; the next budget. Both parties are sniping over earmarks and government funding, while their proposed reductions to the deficit is the equivalent of removing two M&Ms from the deluxe-size bag. I would like to recommend some large cuts that no one has yet addressed, beginning with restoring the tax code to Clinton era levels when nobody was complaining. This includes closing the loopholes for American corporations who make their profits here and park their money in overseas tax havens like the Cayman Islands. Conglomerates like General Electric would no longer be able to pay zero taxes whatsoever, which just happened. And a company like Transocean, responsible for the BP Oil disaster, would pay more in taxes and less in bonuses to executives for the year's "outstanding safety performance." A non-partisan study estimated $1 trillion in annual revenue if the government taxed corporate earnings channelled overseas. So, what cuts do they want to make to balance out the absence of corporate funds; the Environmental Protection Agency, HUD, financing for high-speed rail, heating subsidies for the elderly, and school lunches for poor children. Why not dismantle the whole Bush-era, Germanic sounding, Department of Homeland Security, instead?

As for Medicare, anyone who watches TV sees fraud roll by everyday, especially in the ads for electric scooters for the elderly. Alongside the Hoveround and the Scooter Store, there are numerous companies offering their guarantees of mobility "at little or no cost to you." This means with the right doctor's note, you too could be doing wheelies on the lip of the Grand Canyon. I might enjoy a free scooter too, but I don't think the country can afford to give one to everybody. Maybe a wheelchair, but you would still have to push. It's a Medicare scam, pure and simple, and the doctors get a little taste too. Same with the automatic stairs, and specialty home medical equipment, and the excessive testing of well insured patients in clinics and hospitals. All you need to end it is honest oversight of the agency. And wouldn't it be an altruistic gesture if billionaires donated their Social Security checks to the truly needy?  Before horse-whipping the poor, these blinkered budget hawks should remember that our Afghan adventure is costing us $10 billion a month, and the military budget is greater than federal spending on education, Medicare, or interest on the debt, combined. Without the expense of empire and a remade military for the 21st century, this nation can find the way to escape from this dark economic period in the same way we have time and again; prosper out of it.

Sputnik Soars Again

Club Clearpool was the scene for the 1964 Les Debs dance, and the girls had hired Randy and the Radiants to supply the music. At evening's end, there was an argument between the club owner and the band over what time to stop. He had flipped the lights on fifteen minutes early and we were contracted to play to the hour. When all the party-goers were herded out, a tussle broke out between band members, the 40 year old owner, and his two greaser bouncers, one of whom followed me outside and punched me while my hands were filled with musical equipment. I was just 16, and when I entered my parents' home with a bloody shirt and a busted lip, my mother lost her mind and my father called the police. We went to court, where all three received stiff fines for assault and battery and malicious mischief, which would have been great were we not scheduled to appear at Club Clearpool again the next weekend. This time, I hired a security guard with a sidearm to join the band, but when we set up on the stage facing the concession stand on the opposite wall, the same three men were glaring at us with blood in their eyes.

Suddenly, the front door crashed open and hit the wall with a bang and in walked Sputnik Monroe, doing the Beale Street Strut, followed by our young, DJ manager, Johnny Dark. The entire room erupted and stopped the dance cold, while Monroe greeted a stream of teenagers before bounding onstage. When the cheering subsided, Sputnik took the microphone and said, "I'll tell you people what I said at the Tennessee State Prison last week. I couldn't say, 'ladies and gentlemen,' because there were no ladies, and if they were in there, they sure weren't gentlemen, so I'll just say, 'Damn, it's good to be here." Then like Babe Ruth at bat, he pointed directly at the concession stand saying, "And I want to tell everybody," he paused for dramatic effect and jerked a thumb back over his shoulder in the band's direction, "These boys are Sputnik's boys, and if you mess with them, you're messing with Sputnik." Thanks to Johnny Dark, Sputnik took a rare Saturday night off to attend a teenage party and put the fear of God into some bullies. The following morning, the club owner called and apologised for the entire mess, telling me that he had fired his two associates and  we were always welcome to play at Clearpool. I have been one of "Sputnik's Boys," ever since.

Like others of the Mouseketeer Generation who grew up in Memphis, I was addicted to live, Saturday morning, television wrestling, and especially fascinated by the blood feud between good-guy Billy Wicks and the evil Sputnik. After one particularly violent encounter, Sputnik swore revenge at the Monday night matches at the downtown Ellis Auditorium. I had never been to the live matches before and I begged my father to take me. He said, "Call your grandfather. He loves wrestling," and my eyes widened. I couldn't believe my immigrant grandfather, with his continental manners and ever-present jacket and tie could be a closet wrestling fan. We drove downtown in a taxi and got ringside seats to view the mayhem. I watched fascinated as toothless men screamed epithets at Tojo Yamamoto and howled at the shoulder length hair of Mario Galento, but the main attraction was Wicks and Monroe. When Sputnik entered, the arena burst into open hostility with boos and calls of  "Commie," and "Skunky," referring to the white streak in Sputnik's hair. Wicks arrived like the Golden Boy. It was a two-out-of-three fall marathon match which Sputnik won by cheating. He hit Wicks with a foreign object and held his trunks while applying the pin, but the referee raised his arm in victory anyway. I was aghast that he could get away with it, and it was left to my grandfather to explain to me that sometimes the good guys have to lose for the sake of the gate.

As a Billy Wicks fan, I could never have imagined myself 15 years later, hanging out at the Phillips Studios on Madison, sharing a joint with the evil Sputnik. He told me that if you wanted to smoke reefer in the 50s, you would ask someone to "come help me mow my yard," and they referred to marijuana cigarettes as "muggles," to the surprise of Harry Potter fans. It was the early 70s, and Sputnik was frustrated because he couldn't get the fans to hate him like before. I said that in these times, everything was upside down and what the fans truly despised were the hippies preaching peace and love. My friend Skip Ousley, a tall, black man, suggested that Sputnik find a black wrestler to tag-team with. The next Saturday on studio wrestling, Sputnik appeared with Norvell Austin, also with a white streak in his hair and calling himself "The Black Panther." Their hapless opponents were tangled in the ring ropes when Sputnik retrieved a bucket of black paint from ringside and poured it over their heads. Grabbing the announcers microphone, Sputnik declared, "Black is Beautiful." Norvell shouted, "White is beautiful," and linking arms they said in unison, "Black and white together is beautiful." The next time I saw Sputnik, he was a happy man and proclaimed, "They hate me again."  

Last Thursday was declared Sputnik Monroe Day by the mayors of  both Shelby County and the city of Memphis, and Representative Steve Cohen read a declaration into the Congressional Record commending the late professional wrestler for his role in desegregating public accomodations. The honor was to coincide with the premier of the new documentary, "Memphis Heat: The True Story of Memphis Wrasslin'," and it was such a success, I would like to offer a suggestion. Make Sputnik Monroe Day an annual event, and then the congressman can take it nationally. We need this, people. Directly on the heels of Valentines Day, where in order to express love, you are required to cough it up for cards, candy, and flowers, there needs to be a day when you're allowed to tell somebody to kiss your ass. (Not you, sweetheart. I'm talking about someone else). Then, every March 24th, in Sputnik's honor, you are entitled to go in and spill your boss' coffee in his lap and smash him over the head with a folding chair (what would pro wrestling be without the folding chair?). But listen and listen good, pally. Anyone who recalls a jam-packed Mid-South Coliseum with Jerry "The King" Lawler, Bill "Superstar" Dundee, "Handsome" Jimmy Valiant, or the infamous antics of Andy Kaufman on the bill, and doesn't go to see this film, is just another ignorant pencil-neck geek.

State of the Unions

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Is it starting to become clear yet? The totally unnecessary chaos in Wisconsin should be a revelatory moment, for anyone who wishes to learn, that working people have no business in the Republican party. Rookie Governor Scott Walker's blitzkrieg against collective bargaining rights for public employees is just the sort of thing that happens when an ideologue is elected who serves a political philosophy rather than the people who placed him in power. It also reveals the Janus face of the Republican Party. One face is of the social conservatives, dominated by the Tea Party, whose pro-fetus, anti-tax sentiments are stoked and inflamed by the other face of the party; the corporate side that's in the pocket of Wall Street and beholden to their campaign financiers. Their marching orders include strip-mining a century's worth of progress in labor relations earned by the bloodshed and struggle of working people. And if you think that the freshman GOP governors are only concerned with public unions, think again. This new breed of radical, right-wing corporatists believe they've been given a mandate to repeal the New Deal.

Scott Walker exposed the whole scheme to a prank phone-caller identifying himself as oil billionaire and Republican donor David Koch. Walker blathered on for twenty minutes about his union-busting plans, hatched in closed-door secrecy with a loose cabal of freshly sworn GOP governors, including those in Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Florida, and New Jersey, who were prepared to follow Wisconsin's lead in stripping worker's rights under the guise of financial necessity. They used a budget crises to attack the unions just like George Bush used 9/11 to attack Iraq. The Democratic minority fled Madison for Chicago to deprive the union-busters of the quorum needed to ram their "budget repair bill" through the legislature. Soon they were joined by fugitive Democratic legislators from Indiana for exactly the same reason, causing Illinois to resemble Canada during the sixties as a refuge for conscientious objectors. Walker and the Wisconsin senate removed the pesky "budget" references from the bill and voted with one-party rule to strip public unions of the right to collectively bargain. The result? Four straight weeks of public protests, 100,000 people in the streets, and an active effort, already underway, to recall the perpetrators like rancid peanut butter. 

The stealth campaign against unions, disregarding decades of progress, was done with such a cavalier attitude, it caused me to question the scholarship of Governor Scott Walker. He is a preacher's son, who attended Marquette University where he ran for Student Government president, but lost to a write-in candidate after being cited for violations of campaign rules. Walker attended college for four years, but dropped-out without earning a degree. His Milwaukee mentor, however, was Reince Priebus, current chairman of the Republican National Committee and the man credited with laying the groundwork for Walker's election. Priebus was the seed from which the anti-union crusade germinated and he promised Walker the complete support of the national organization. I realize making sport of someones name, like Hussein, is the cheapest of shots, but Preibus' parents set him up for this. He's like Johnny Cash's "Boy Named Sue," whose rogue father gave him the name to toughen him up. Reince Priebus sounds like a bulletin placed by management on the wall of a restaurant bathroom reminding employees what is required of them before returning to work. Since Priebus' elevation from Wisconsin Republican Chairman to national director, his old Milwaukee crony, Walker, is simply doing the bidding of the RNC.

When the Republicans came into power in the midterm elections, they promised their focus would be entirely on job creation and budget cuts. So, what has been on the agenda? In the House of Representatives, bills have been introduced to restrict abortion, curtail same-sex marriage, expand gun carry rights, including a proposal to allow firearms on the floor of Congress, reducing the corporate tax rate, and amending the National Labor Reform Act to get rid of the secret ballot. The focused attack on the Teacher's Union is meant to weaken a traditional Democratic voting bloc. By claiming that teachers' contracts are too generous, even after Wisconsin educators agreed to negotiate, Republicans have declared open warfare on funding the public school system. I used to believe these ideological slaves wanted to go back to the 1950s, but I was wrong. They want to return to the Nineteenth Century, when the gentry could afford to educate their children and the poor worked at manual labor for generation after generation, until unions insisted on child labor laws. Any job creation in there?

The Wisconsin union-busting bill will surely be overturned as a violation of open meeting statutes, as will the bill just passed in Michigan, giving their governor the right to declare martial law in a fiscal emergency, and the power to dismiss a town's democratically elected officials and appoint a "special manager" to right the municipality's imagined economic wrongs. Several Michigan cities were known as "company towns" before, but the corporations didn't get to own them outright. The fictional David Koch's easy access to Scott Walker proved the complicity between corporate America and the Republican governors. Only, it sounded more like Pinocchio reporting back to his puppet masters. While working-class, Republican foot-soldiers rail about taxes and immigration, men like the Kochs, Karl Rove, and Dick Armey move them around like rooks on a chess board, using and discarding them when necessary. This battle over public unions should have particular poignance for Memphians. It was 1968, when then Mayor Henry Loeb refused to negotiate with a public union he considered to be illegal, forcing a strike by the city's sanitation workers. I wonder if the GOP governors even realize that the right for public employees to unionize was the fight for which Dr. Martin Luther King gave his life.

Ka-Daffy

His tribe has been in power for thirty years, with plans to transfer authority from father to son. Yet despite the public disfavor and condition of his country, he continues to make personal appearances. He is responsible for the deaths of thousands of his own people and countless others, including civilians, by bullets and bombs. He routinely used detention without charge or trial, and torture against his enemies. He ordered electronic surveillance and spying on his countrymen and hired mercenaries to fight his foes. Even after falling from favor, he still believes that he's some sort of religious mystic who was placed in power by God, from whom he receives personal instruction, and he speaks in gibberish that no one else can understand. He is delusional, militaristic, and totally out of touch with the people of his country. During his reign, the elite prospered while the poor starved and went homeless. Anyone with such a record must be called to account for his criminal behavior, and George W. Bush certainly has a lot to answer for.

Earlier this month, Bush cancelled a planned trip to Switzerland, where he was to make a speech, amid calls for protest and threats of arrest. In this country, while the Tea Party runs amok, making the most of their fifteen minutes in the spotlight with bizarre attacks on the current president's legitimacy, human rights groups around the world have stated that they plan to seek arrest warrants whenever and wherever Bush travels outside the United States. Since Bush admitted in his autobiography to the authorization of "waterboarding" detainees at Guantanamo, the respected organization Amnesty International has said enough evidence now exists to open a criminal investigation. Yet there he was, yukking it up with Jerry Jones in the owner's sky-box at the Super Bowl, munching hot dogs in a billion dollar football palace where millionaires play, while the rest of the populace struggles to recover from economic disaster. It was a portrait of the Bush years in a snapshot.

Speaking of war criminals, Dick Cheney was the surprise guest at this month's annual CPAC Convention in Washington, where he presented the conservative organization's coveted "Defender of the Constitution" award to his old foxhole buddy, Donald Rumsfeld. There was enough irony in the hall to build a bridge. Cheney entered the room to the blaring of Tina Turner's "Simply the Best," reminding music fans that Cheney is an abuser like Ike was.  Jr.Walker & the All Stars' "Shotgun" would have been a better choice. The old-boy reunion was spoiled by a crowd of libertarian Rand Paul supporters who had just listened to the new senator from Kentucky call for cuts in the Defense budget to loud jeering from the crowd. Instead of welcoming Cheney like a returning hero, they shouted, "War criminal," and "Where's Bin Laden?" at him, while the true patriots reverted back to the imaginative chant of "USA," to drown out their opponents. Because of a new heart device that constantly pumps blood, Cheney technically no longer has a pulse. (Insert your own joke here.) The ultimate irony is that the former vice president may need a heart transplant, but may be too old to qualify. I wonder who appoints Dick Cheney's "Death Panel?"

Donald Rumsfeld emerged from relative seclusion to go on tour promoting his new memoir, "Known and Unknown." The man Salon.com dubbed the "Architect of Terror," has been met by protesters at every stop and has shown a predilection for musings about meeting Elvis rather than the falsifying of intelligence to sell a war. Rumsfeld's appearance in Orange County, California was planned around a special banquet costing $500 per person, or $1000 if you wanted to meet the secretary. The "Premium Seating Package," including two seats at the head table, an additional table for ten, and a "VIP reception" following the dinner, cost a meager $25,000; chump change to an O.C. Republican. Earlier, Rumsfeld had accepted the "Victory of Freedom" award from the Richard Nixon Foundation at a dinner at the Nixon library in Yorba Linda, California. Over 200 people payed "hundreds of dollars" for the privilege of breaking bread with the man called, "The worst Secretary of Defense in history." And that was by John McCain.

It's The Godfather's most dramatic scene. Michael Corleone arranges for the elimination of the heads of New York's five crime families while he is in a church, standing godfather to Connie and Carlo's baby. After the ceremony, he tells his brother-in-law, Carlo, to go back to the house and wait for his call. The unsuspecting sap is on the phone when Michael enters with the look of the Grand Inquisitor on his face. Michael explains that he has just "settled all family business," and utters the chilling words, "You have to answer for Santino, Carlo." Thus, forcing the unfortunate turncoat to pay a long-delayed price for his role in the assassination of Sonny Corleone, and proving that justice, though not always swift, is inevitable. The invasion and occupation of Iraq, and the subsequent horror that followed, was a war crime. If we are to continue as a nation of laws rather than men, it is essential that the Bush-Cheney-Rumsfeld troika be told, "You have to answer for Santino." The lives of 4,757 American soldiers and a half-million Iraqis demand it. Democracy may be sprouting in the Middle East, but only when the era of privatized privilege passes from this land can we look ourselves in the mirror and ask,"What have we done?"

Just Sing the Damn Song

So what if Christina Aguilera botched the lyrics to the National Anthem before the Super Bowl. Sometimes, when it occurs to you that a billion or so people are scrutinizing your every breath, it can make you a mite nervous. I enjoyed the letter to the editor, however, from the Collierville woman who was so incensed, she wrote that Aguilera's error was "a spit in the eye to all I hold dear." I hope no one ever shows her a video of the performance by Rosanne Barr. What offended me was not her messing up the words (those are some tough lyrics to sing), but the tortured, moaning manner in which she chose to sing the song. As soon as she sang the first line, I told Melody, "Here we go again." The "Star-Spangled Banner" is just one of those songs that doesn't lend itself to a breathy, orgasmic, reading. It sounded like Christina and the flag needed to get a room. The lyrics seemed like an afterthought.

Not that I'm opposed to artistic interpretation of the National Anthem, mind you. Ever since Jose Feliciano drove the puritans insane at the 1968 World Series, artists have been putting their own touches to the anthem. Several inspiring versions have been performed since then, from Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock to Whitney Houston at the 1991 Super Bowl; or the greatest version OF ALL TIME;  Marvin Gaye at the 1983 NBA All Star game. These artists had the one ingredient lacking in so many contemporary singers' anthem attempts; heart. As good a technical singer as Aguilera is, no amount of vocal pyrotechnics can overcome a soulless performance. Thanks to shows like American Idol, where Americans try to sound just like their idols, these wild exercises in vocal gymnastics are all we ever hear any more. I can still hear the echoes of my father saying, "You call that singing?" after hearing Elvis, but as an aspiring singer myself, I can say with some authority that note-scaling, over-singing has saturated the current music scene to an extent that it's become farcical. No one even needs to sing on key anymore. They have something called an auto-tuner that will make you sound like an emasculated Darth Vader, but it will be on pitch.
   

The musical term for this stylized vocalization is called "melisma." Simply put, it's singing a single syllable using multiple notes. It's beginnings go back to the madrigal, but in popular music, "melisma" originated in the black church. All the great, church-based, soul singers could manage it to an extent, but the master was Bobby "Blue" Bland. I used to study his records like a mathematics textbook to figure out how he sang like that. In the song, "I'll Take Care of You," he sings the single word, "I," with a five-note drop. I know, I counted. Listening to Bland's style taught me a variation of melisma that, although not authentic, is better than most white folks. Great singers also know when to leave it out, lest it become a distraction. There are many artists with melismatic abilities like Mavis Staples, Usher, even Justin Bieber. But no one really overdid it until Patti LaBelle, the Queen of Over-sing. Listening to Patti wears me out because she tries too hard to be over the top, all of the time. And she does this bird thing with flapping arms that's not nearly as entertaining as when Rufus Thomas did it. It proves that melisma is best applied with a fine brush, and not the paint roller that LaBelle uses.

Blame the neurotic, microphone hand-twitch on Whitney, but the current phase of female vocal abuse can be traced back to Mariah Carey. She is to contemporary women singers what Joni Mitchell was to the 70s- unavoidable. Mariah's pipes inspired a thousand imitators until a slew of top female singers all began sounding just the same. Which brings us to the 2011 Grammy Awards. This year's show began with a quintet of chanteuses paying tribute to the still-kicking Soul Queen, Aretha Franklin. Aside from the immensely talented Jennifer Hudson, the rest of the pack, including the caterwauling Ms. Aguilera, illustrated just how far we have fallen in our definition of "diva" from Aretha's gold standard. Lady GaGa arrived at the ceremonies inside of a turquoise, oblong pod carried by throne bearers, just daring critics to say that she laid an egg. But the harshest criticism for GaGa was reserved for the similarities between her new song, "Born This Way," and Madonna's "Express Yourself," from 1989. Having a longer memory, I can tell you both songs sound just like "I Got the Music In Me," from the Kiki Dee Band, 1974. You're welcome.

Aside from Justin Bieber being punished for his success and shut out of the awards, the most surprising Grammy moment was the upset win for Album of the Year, by Arcade Fire. I'll own up to being so unhip that this group wasn't even on my radar until their Grammy performance, but I always enjoy seeing a Yoko Ono tribute band get a break. As far as the ladies, it seemed like it was Rihanna's night, and she wasn't even up for an award. Leave it to Babs, though, to show that a great singer doesn't need to hit her highest note in every verse, and is able to thrill you with her tone, not how many notes she can cram into a measure of music. Younger singers would be wise to look to Streisand and realize that sometimes it's better to just sing the damn song. The two other most infectious performances of the evening came from Bob Dylan and a show-stopping Mick Jagger. Even with all the fresh, new interpreters of song, leave it to a trio of septuagenarians to show 'em how to rock the house. And poor Christina Aguilera needs to learn that after milking that final, excruciating, drop of melisma from a song's ending, try not to fall on your ass. That's what the audience is supposed to do.

Sarah and Michele's High School Reunion

Many great representatives of American culture have come from Minnesota. They gave us Bob Dylan and Prince; Rod Carew and Fran Tarkenton; The Mary Tyler Moore Show and Minnesota Fats. Long a bastion of progressivism, great statesmen like Hubert Humphrey and Walter Mondale have been elected to congress by Minnesotans. Lately, however, things have taken a turn for the weird.  In the "Land of 10,000 Lakes," citizens seemed immune to celebrity until they went a little crazy and elected Jesse "The Body" Ventura as governor. When that experiment was done, they elected comedian and former Saturday Night Live alumnus, Al Franken, to the Senate. In the case of the Harvard educated Franken, however, he proved to be a viable candidate because he was good enough, smart enough, and, doggone it, people liked him. I am at a loss, however, to explain how an electorate goes from Hubert Humphrey to Michele Bachmann, unless some outside, sinister force is at work.

In Don DeLillo's classic novel "White Noise," he describes an incident called the "Airborne Toxic Event," a chemical spill from a rail car that makes townspeople go insane. This fictional account is close to describing some of Minnesota's real-life disasters, like the I-35 bridge collapse into the Mississippi River in 2007; or the 57 separate oil pipeline spills since 2000; or even the severe storms and massive flooding that required the president to declare parts of the state a "disaster area," in 2010. Even Minnesota's loons were threatened by the BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. Whatever the cause, something has made these hardy Midwesterners turn to Michele Bachmann to represent them in congress, and she acts more like a contestant for Homecoming Queen than a legislator. It used to be said that politics was just show business for ugly people. In truth, congress is one big high school do-over, with the same adolescent jealousies and pettiness that we find in some pre-teens. Only now, their hissy fits are putting us all in jeopardy. The quote, "Carbon dioxide is portrayed as harmful, but there isn't even one study that can be produced that shows that carbon dioxide is a harmful gas," could have been straight from DeLillo, had Michele Bachmann not said it first.

A singular event in American history took place after the President's last State of the Union address. Michele Bachmann, the self-appointed Miss Tea Party, gave a rebuttal to the official Republican rebuttal to the president's speech. CNN was the only network to elevate this to news, and thank goodness. Bachmann  stared into a computer camera for an online response seen by a few thousand people, while the rest of us got to watch her gaze off, slightly to the left, and appear as if she were waiting for Peter Pan to return and whisk her off to Neverland. With charts and graphs, Bachmann told of the 16,500 IRS officers being prepared to enforce Obamacare and claimed that what was really needed is medical malpractice reform, something Obama had announced only an hour before. More astounding was the footage of Bachmann addressing Iowans for Tax Relief only the night before. Speaking with hushed reverence about the founding fathers, Bachmann claimed, "(They) worked tirelessly until slavery was no more in the United States." No they didn't. Half were slave owners, and anyone who ever took a history course knows that. She lauded John Quincy Adams, who was not a founder, but proves, at least, that she saw "Amistad."

Among Bachmann's other lies; she has accused the census of being a government plot to round up dissidents, like her, and put them into internment camps, and she began the canard that Obama was "spending over $200 million a day," on a state visit to India. She advocated eliminating the minimum wage and suggested $400 billion in cuts for veterans' benefits as an austerity measure. Michele was a backbencher until Sarah Palin proved that venomous rhetoric and a pretty smile will get you noticed, even if the professional pundits refer to you as a "Bubblehead." Despite having called for an investigation into Democratic congressmen to see which ones were "anti-American," John Boehner appointed Bachmann to the National Intelligence Committee, and she has already visited Iowa to explore the possibility of a presidential run in 2012. A pretty face and nice smile may win you "most popular" in junior high, but when you get to congress, it's time to put away the pageant sash and work to serve others. Instead, she has said that Obama is turning us "into a nation of slaves," and called health insurance reform, "The crown jewel of socialism,"

Watching all the media attention Bachmann was receiving, Sarah Palin got "all wee-weed up," and leaped into the fray. In an interview on Fox News, Palin claimed that the launching of Sputnik in 1957 was the ultimate cause for the Soviet Union's downfall in 1991, and that the Russians "won the space race." More ghastly, she noticed that Obama's phrase from his State of the Union, "Win the Future," could be abbreviated WTF, which fits well into her Twitter mindset, but not for a serious candidate for high office. Yet she continued to repeat it several more times, including on her Facebook page, oblivious to the 90% of Americans who approved of the president's speech. Between Michele and Sarah, we could be headed for a loser-leaves-town cage match to determine who will be the undisputed Tea Party Princess. Meanwhile, when did stupidity become a virtue in public life? Before a law school graduate becomes an attorney, he must pass the bar exam. Shouldn't we at least have an elementary civics exam for all potential legislators? That might weed out half the know-nothing, yet ambitious politicians of today, including "Dumb and Dumber."