Watch this interview
with Dennis and Elizabeth Kucinich right now!
I haven't had a little wonk crush like this since I saw Patrick Fitzgerald. There is a little hopeful spring in my step today, having bounced back from my week of anomie and panic attacks.
It is breathtaking, really, to watch someone NOT EQUIVOCATE on television, someone who simply speaks the plain truth instead of Orwellian koan-like talking points.
For anyone who wishes to remain living in this country, or wants to expatriate but may not be able to, I think it is imperative to support this candidate. I love Obama's yearbook picture and all, and would be thrilled to have an African-American president -- but I am sick of equivocators, and Obama's website doesn't really say anything. Don't get me started on Hillary.
We also owe it to the people of Iraq to end this bullshit occupation. It is our responsibility to do what we can, to do more. It is over and the troops need to come home yesterday -- no more buying into disingenuous framing strategies infantilizing a nation that didn't want us there in the first place. Read Khalid Jarrar's post on the 4th anniversary of the occupation
. Then read Riverbend's
. Then ask yourself how you can possibly justify supporting anyone who does not demand to end the funding for this yesterday. Because you cannot. It's not complicated, there's no abstruse secret policy we laypeople can't understand. It's simple. It's wrong.
I was home Saturday embroidering a gift for a friend of mine, atop our new mattress, sipping wine, watching V for Vendetta
. The movie made me sick -- the scenes of martial law made me ill in that I knew how easy it would be for that to happen here -- I am sure that if the Nimitz barrelling toward Iran
actually attacks, martial law will happen. It also made me sick in that so many reviewers described the film as daring, daring in that it was a parallel to our own government's deceitfulness and abuse of detainees -- when really, Natalie Portman's character isn't REALLY being detained by the government, but by V himself, to like, rid her of fear and shit -- a kind of disingenuous exceptionalism that recalled the shower scene in Schindler's List -- you know, where the viewer gets to see the one time a shower was really just a shower. And there I was, in the comfort of my home, afforded the luxury of watching meta-Gitmo on cable, fretting over the impending martial law that will come soon because everyone is, well, watching cable.
We owe it to everyone to do more than worry. We owe it to people to start having sincere and embarrassing conversations about what is right and what is wrong. I don't want to have to explain to my children that Mommy just couldn't do enough
, the way when we learn about the Holocaust as children everyone wonders why everyone didn't just SAY SOMETHING about what was happening. So when you see a brunette handing out campaign literature wearing a wedding ring, maybe it's me.