Jimmy Carter Won the Cold War
"Short-circuiting the long-established principles of patient negotiation leads to war, not peace." - Jimmy Carter
On this 93rd birthday of the Anti-Christ, Gipper-worshipping dittoheads across the blogosphere are squawking like lovesick parrots about how "Reagan won the cold war". But history will reveal the real truth - the man who actually won the cold war was none other than the 39th president of the United States, James Earl Carter.
Carter strongly suspected that the Soviet Union might be a bully. From his grade school years, Carter also knew that the best way to deal with a bully is to make yourself very small and hope they don't notice you. Failing that, offer them your lunch money. Whatever you do, do NOT confront them - it will only make them angrier. Meekly submitting to a wedgie is better than a getting a bloody nose. And perhaps in time, the bully will realize you're no threat and let you pal around with him. Carter applied this policy of détente to his dealings with the Soviet Union.
The French word for "I'm your bitch", détente with the Soviets was the dreamchild of Henry Kissinger and Tricky Dick Nixon. But it was future nobel laureate, Jimmy Carter, who perfected it to an artform. When the Soviets began rattling their nuclear sabres in the 70's, Carter cut national defense in order to make us seem less threatening. When the Soviets appeared unmoved by his overtures of peace, Carter offered them an olive branch in the form of the Panama Canal, Nicaragua, Taiwan, Ethiopia, Korea, Yemen, Angola, Kampuchea, and Afghanistan. He was in the process of handing them all of Eastern Europe when he was cruelly tossed out of office by the Moral Majority.
However, Carter's refusal to confront the USSR set the wheels in motion for its eventual collapse. Lured into a false sense of superiority, the Soviets overextended themselves, spreading their influence across the globe in much the same way the Roman Empire did. If allowed to continue on such a course, the Soviet Union would quietly fade away in just a few hundred years. All Reagan did was speed up the process by forcing the "evil empire" into an arms race.
By standing up to the Soviets, Reagan brought the world to the brink of nuclear annihilation. If it weren't for Sting's visionary Russians single soothing the tensions between the two world powers, I would very likely be typing this blog from a fallout shelter today. We owe him, and Jimmy Carter, a deep debt of gratitude.
DEAN: SEND MONEY, OR GOD WILL CALL ME HOME!
I got a weird email from Howard Dean this morning:
"Brothers and sisters,
The entire race has come down to this: we must win Wisconsin. The Lord has spoken to me, and He wants us to launch our new television advertisement on Monday in the major markets in Wisconsin. To do that, I need your help to raise $700,000 by Sunday. I beg you - please contribute today, or God will be calling me home.
All that you have worked for these past months is on the line on a single day, in a single state. The Cheese State, of all places. We have come so far to change our political process and restore our democracy-we can't stop now. Your contribution will allow us to get out our message onto the airwaves, spread the divine gospel of Howie, and prevent the Heavenly Hoover from sucking me up into the Great Bike Path in the Sky.
Thank you, and God Bless,
Governor Howard Dean, M.D."
I'm afraid the poor man may be losing his mind. With Kerry kicking his ass, and Edwards nipping at his heels, Dean's grasp on reality seems to be slipping. I'd send him some money, but I spent my last twelve dollars on a Dennis Kucinich bobblehead doll.
The best I can do is offer him my prayers.
Dennis Kucinich's Seattle Visit; I Was There
The banquet room at the Everett Holiday Inn was filled to capacity with Kucinich fans from across Snohomish County, all proud members of the progressive, grassroots Mutual UFO Network (MUFON). I donned my official Kucinich Headgear and got as close to the front as I could.
Famous talk radio host Art Bell, speaking before a packed house of close to 14 people, introduced the man of the hour.
"Atlantians! Alpha Centaurians! Altairians, Andromedains, Arcturians, Cassiopaeans, Reptilians, Hybrids, Iguaniods, Insectiods, Lacertians, Lemurians, Luciferians, Lyrans, Neonates, Nordics, Pleiadans, Raelians, Son's of Darkness, Son's of Light, Ancients, Ultraterrestrials, Uranthans, Vampurae, Vegans, Winged Draconians, Zeta Riticulans, and Jehovah's Witnesses! Greetings, and welcome to the first annual MUFON UFO Symposium and Get Out the Vote rally. Allow me to introduce our guest of honor: the man with the vision, the courage, and the foreign policy experience to stave off an interplanetary war with the Greys, the next President of the United States, Dennis Kucinich!"
Kucinich hesitantly stepped from behind a large blue curtain to a standing ovation. A man of small, frail stature, he seemed somewhat dwarfed by the giant, pyramid-shaped podium before him, but this in in no way diminished my opinion of the great man. After all, Lenin was short, too.
He tapped the microphone with his hand, looking somewhat confused.
"Uhhh...MUFON?" he spoke, his deep, booming voice resonating throughout the room. "There must be some mistake...I was told this was a MoveOn.org event."
"DubelmoHchugh q'Sagh!!" the crowd cheered in traditional Klingon, delighted with the joke. At last, a candidate with a sense of humor!
"I must confess," he continued, "I don't really have anything prepared for this uhhh...*ahem* group - why don't we just skip to the question-and-answer portion of the evening? Anyone have a question?"
A man with thick, coke-bottle glasses stood up in the front row. "Ever see Gillian Anderson naked?" he asked.
Kucinich stared at him. "Ummm...no."
"Not even in the episode where she got the tattoo on her ass?"
Art Bell snatched the microphone from Kucinich's hands. "Ladies and gentlemen, must I remind you again that David Duchovny will not be speaking tonight? This is Dennis Kucinich, democrat presidential candidate. Please ask questions relevent to his campaign."
A morbidly obese man with a tinfoil hat raised his hand. "What do you plan to do about the Roswell saucer crash, Koonichick? Keep it covered it up, like every other president since Truman?"
Kucinich fumbled with his fingers, the sign of a true leader. "Well uhhhh...I will repeal Bush's repressive tax cuts for the rich, and uhhhh...raise the mininum wage to thirty dollars an hour so the average American doesn't have to work 4 jobs to feed his family!"
"WELL PLAYED!" I shouted. What an impressive answer!
Kucinich pointed to a severely crosseyed woman with her hand raised.
"Sasquatch!" she screamed. "In the summer of 1982, I was impregnated by a Sasquatch just outside of Medford, Oregon!"
"I'm glad you brought that up," Kucinich volleyed, "because as president, I will appoint Supreme Court justices who will uphold Roe v. Wade, support a woman's constitutional right to choose, and actually perform abortions in their chambers during recesses! Next question?"
Good golly, the man was on FIRE! He dodged every bullet the audience shot at him, from Raelian mind control to satanic goat mutilations in Ecuador.
"My dog tells me things!" a gentleman yelled from the back. "He tells me about the shadow people living in my sock drawer. What do the shadow people want with my socks? That's what I wanna know."
"Excellent question," Kucinich fired back, "Quite simply, I will eliminate the Department of War and replace it with the Department of Peace. Then I will withdraw all troops from Iraq, turn over control of the U.S. military to the U.N., and beg the world community to forgive us for our unilateral, imperialist sins!"
The crowd went nuts! There was simply no stopping the man.
"9/11!" I shouted. "Tell them about 9/11, Dennis!"
"Bush staged 9/11!" he yelled over the roar of the audience. "Saddam was a CIA patsy! Captain Janeway killed JFK!"
This was the man we'd all been waiting for, the messiah who would free us from the chains of right wing opression and lead us into the promised land!
Suddenly, right when he had us in the palm of his hand, two large men in dark suits grabbed Kucinich and spirited him out of the building.
"Good god!" Art Bell screamed. "It's the Men in Black! Run for your lives!"
"Wait!" I yelled back at him. "Those weren't Men in Black! Those were Kucinich's delegates!"
But it was too late. The crowd panicked and stampeded toward the door, nearly trampling a cardboard cut-out of James "Scotty" Doohan under their orthopedic shoes. The room empited in a matter of seconds, and as quickly as the evening began, it was over.
What a bittersweet, yet historical evening. I saw the greatest statesman sense Jerry Brown speaking before a throng of his admirers, but he left before I could offer him my official endorsement.
On the bright side, I got Whitley Streiber to sign my headgear!
Joe Lieberman Drops Out
It's a shame, too. I was sure he was going all the way.
Unfortunately, Lieberman just doesn't possess the psychopathic rage necessary to lead the party. Al Gore knew that. The voters know it, too.
The fact of the matter is, we don't want to simply win this November - we want to crush Bush and his entire party so utterly, that neo-cons cannot muster up the political strength to fight a troop of Brownie Scouts, let alone the War on Terror. For such a task, we need a candidate who oozes Bush Hatred from every pore - someone with such a deep, insatiable bloodlust for Dubya that it blinds them to all logic and reason.
Gone are the days when kind hearted progressives like James Carville or Ted Rall would hold out a hand of friendship to conservatives, only to draw back a bloody stump. Only a person with the courage to expose the right-wingers for the evil monsters they are will lead the Democrat Party to victory, win back our allies, and usher in a new era of peace and harmony, free from the evil influence of hatemongering cons.
And that person is NOT Joe Lieberman.
John Kerry's Seattle Visit; I Was There
My friend Travis and I walked into the lush, ornate Seattle Center Ballroom and were immediately awestruck by the enormous crowd of Party VIPS come to pay their respects to the great senator from Massachussets. A huge American flag hung behind the podium where Kerry would soon speak, and two giant triniton screens flanked the stage. Images of Kerry from his youth flashed across the left screen: Kerry sailing with JFK. Kerry playing touch football with JFK. Kerry washing JFK's car. Kerry shining JFK's shoes. Kerry sitting on JFK's lap. On the right screen, images of Kerry's later years were shown: Kerry at Yale. Kerry in his Navy Uniform. Kerry on a patrol boat in Vietnam.
Travis and I looked at one another. "VIETNAM?"
I seemed to recall reading somewhere that Kerry served in Vietnam, but I thought it was just a vicious rumor. Now he's actually FLAUNTING his Vietnam service?
I was just about to toss my Kerry headgear into the ashcan with disgust when the senator himself walked out onto the stage. The crowd went wild at the sight of the tall figure, nearly bringing the roof down with cheers and applause. I'll be the first one to admit that Kerry doesn't have nearly the amount of sheer charisma that Al Gore had, but he can sure stir up a crowd. He waited for the audience to quiet down, then began his speech.
"Fellow Americans, I come to you here today, a proud Vietnam Veteran who served his-"
"BABYKILLER!" Travis shouted.
"BUTCHER!" I joined in.
The crowd erupted in boos and hisses. Someone threw a minature French flag at me, which nearly poked my eye out. Kerry hesitated, a small bead of sweat rolling down his smooth, creaseless forehead. He cleared his throat and then went on.
"....who served his country proudly in Vietnam, while George Bush was AWOL from the Texas Air National-"
"HOW MANY GOOKS YA KILL TODAY, WAR HERO?" I shouted.
"HO HO HO CHI MINH!" Travis yelled.
The boos were deafening. Travis and I were pelted with trash and spittle. Suddenly, a strange, spectacled man grabbed us both by the scruffs of our necks, dragged us from the ballroom, and tossed us into the street.
Satisfied by our show of patriotic dissent, we collected ourselves and were just about to leave when a well-dressed fellow wearing a donkey lapel pin stopped us.
Travis gasped. My jaw dropped. Standing before us was the Grand Poobah of the DNC himself, Terry McCauliffe.
"Hey, fellas," he said, taking a drag from a turkish cigarette. "I heard what you said back there. Didn't you get the memo?"
"Memo?" I asked. "What memo?"
"The party's Official Stance on Military Service memo. We're going with a 'military service is important' approach this election cycle."
"Why? When did this happen?" Travis asked.
"When we finally found a candidate with a better military record than the Republican alternative," McCauliffe chuckled. "We looked high and low, even tried to run a republican General as a democrat, but people wouldn't buy it. They seem to be eating this Kerry freak up, though, so we're running with it. Sure, I know he's said some things in the past, but hold his service record up to Shrub's and we got ourselves the first democrat war hero president since JFK. In fact, he sorta reminds me of JFK."
"But will people go for it?"
"I think so. If not, Kerry is going to bring out Senator Biden's amputed limbs at the debates. Bush won't know what hit him."
I scratched my head. "I thought Senator Cleland was the dude who lost his limbs."
McCauliffe tossed his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his foot. "Whatever. Anyway, I wish I could let you boys back in, but Al Franken would beat the living shit out of you."
We shook hands, said our goodbyes, and shuffled off into the cold night, kept warm by the deep sense of pride we felt for John Kerry, Vietnam Vet, War Hero, true American patriot, and Man of the People.
I've been thinking long and hard about which democrat candidate deserves my coveted endorsement. It just seems like whenever I get close to picking a winner, they drop out of the race.
So, today I decided to take a straw poll among the self-described "conservatives" in my office. The question: "If I held a gun to your head and forced you to vote for a democrat candidate, who would it be?"
98% of conservatives polled told me to go ahead and pull the trigger. The other 2% laughed at me and said I was holding the gun backwards.
So I rephrased the question and tried again. "If a group of terrorists burst into your home, threatened to kill your whole family, burn your house down, key your SUV, and raise your taxes unless you voted for a democrat, who would you choose?"
The results were astounding:
37% Hit me with your best shot
22% Joseph Lieberman
11% John Edwards
10% Gen. Wesley Clark
8% John Kerry
6% Howard Dean
4% Al Sharpton
2% Dennis Kucinich
I wasn't surprised to see Lieberman so high on the list, as he's a closet Republican attack dog for George Bush. The real shocker was that 98% of conservatives would rather face torture and death than vote for Dennis Kucinich. Personally, I can't think of a more ringing endorsement for the man's ability to lead this country into the future, and beyond!
He's coming to town for a rally Thursday and I plan to attend. It's not official yet, but I will quite possibly be giving him my endorsement at that time.
Super Dome Fever!!
My brother invited me up to his Everett home to watch the Super Dome last Sunday. I'm no baseball fan, but I'm past due for some good, old fashioned, male bonding. Besides, the guy has a TV the size of France - perhaps I could convince him to cut the game short so I could catch "Thelma & Louise" on Lifetime.
But as soon as I got there, the fascist started opressing me.
"I'm gonna lay down some ground rules," he says. "First of all, you're not wearing that stupid hat in my house. Rule #2: You are not to touch the remote control under any circumstances, and Rule #3: You will not talk about politics. Clear?"
"Good! Now, how about a drink? Beer?"
"A soy milk will be fine, thank you."
He glared at me. "Rule #4: You will not mention soy milk, tofu, sushi, rice cakes, sprouts, or any other pansy-assed homo food. It's beer and buffalo wings, or nothing at all. Failure to abide by these rules will result in severe puinishment. Got it?"
"Oh, I got it alright. You're a fascist, who must resort to violence to supress the dissent. I'm not surprised, what with this neanderthal, jingoistic, RACIST BLOODSPORT you're worshipping today."
So I spent the entire Super Dome locked in the garage, and missed the terrible unveiling of Janet Jackson's satanic teat. My, how the puritans have gone nuts over one little breast - 40% of which is completely as nature made it. Bush says he slept through the whole thing, so that's TWO Super Dome's he has spent unconcious. At least this time they didn't find him sprawled on the floor with a pretzel hanging out of his mouth.
Nonetheless, he managed to sick his house negro Powell on everything that moves. Is there a Jackson that the Bushies aren't out to destroy? Michael, Jesse, and now Janet. Bush's vendetta against the entertainment industry knows no bounds.
Dean's Seattle Visit; I was There
Presidential hopeful and Man of the People, Howard Dean, swept through Seattle last Saturday and yours truly was lucky enough to be there. Although I haven't given Dean my official endorsement yet, I was anxious to see the great man in person. So I put on my headgear and went over to the town hall to hear him speak.
There must have been 30,000-40,000 supporters, wellwishers, and rastafarians packed into the tiny auditorium, with another 10,000 lining the streets to welcome Dean to Seattle. Even the rainy weather couldn't keep people away, despite their inability to light up any paraphenalia.
Cheers erupted as Dean's bus finally pulled up in front of the building. Dean dropped his fare into the changebox and stepped out to the fanatical screams of his elderly female fans. He slowly worked his way through the throng and into the hall, kissing hands, shaking babies, and giving an occasional "You da Man" salute to anyone wearing an orange fright wig. I watched as Dean strutted up to the platform and grabbed the mike, preferring to pace up and down the stage rather than stand behind the cold and impersonal podium.
"Portland!" he shouted. "The City of Roses! Can I get a 'Hell Yeah?'"
Congressman McDermott, who was wearing his famous, flashing neon "Bush Knew" cap, walked over and whispered something into Dean's ear. Dean nodded and returned to the crowd.
"Seattle! The Emerald City! Can I get a 'Hell Yeah?'"
The crowd replied with a tumultous "HELL YEAH!"
"First off, I'd like to apologize for the lack of heating," he began. "We're a little strapped on cash right now, and unlike George Bush, I can't simply call up my special interest buddies for more money."
Angry booing and hissing echoed through the auditorium and the mere mention of the evil Dubya. Dean raised both his hands, calling for silence.
"Fortunately, I was up at Boeing this morning and got big, fat checks from six different unions, so there's light at the end of the - "
Dean's words were suddenly cut off as all the lights in the auditorium went out, along with the sound system, and Congressman McDermott's electric beanie. Someone lit up a cigarette lighter and waved it above his head, causing several audience members to shout "Tracers!" and pass out. Luckily, the Good Doctor obtained a battery-powered megaphone and was able to continue his momentous speech for those of us still conscious.
"Looks like those white boys in the Republican Party don't want our message out!" he spoke to roars of delight from the crowd. "When I'm president, no one will ever have to worry about paying power bills, because George Bush and Kenny Boy won't be running the power companies!"
The audience erupted in wild cheers.
"When I'm president, my brothers and sisters, George Bush won't be running anything at all!"
The crowd went nuts. Thousand of people began clapping their hands and stomping their feet in unison, quickly drowning out Dean's words, but he continued his speech until a large beach ball bounced out of the seats and rolled across the stage. Taking his cue, Dean thanked everyone, borrowed some cab fare, and headed off to the next stop on his campaign trail. I stayed for the Laser Floyd show and then went home, walking on air.
I'll have to say, I'm no Deanite - he's a little too far to the right of the party for my tastes. But his message on Saturday rang so true, that I may have to reconsider my position.