Charlie Daniels has blatantly trashed everything this country stands for. He might as well go ahead and burn the flag; he has effectively pissed on the Constitution. He has disrepected and dishonored the American principles that his countrymen have fought and died for, and the flag that stands for those principles. People have died to preserve his freedom to express his opinions, however ignorant and un-American they may be (un-American because they belittle the principles that make this country great). But, when somebody responded to his load of crap after Charlie’s PR flack sent it to her personal email address, Charlie and his henchmen had her fired. The Constitution grants him the right to free speech, even when his speech is trashing the very Constitution that grants him that right. But he’s gone beyond speech when he takes this kind of retaliatory action against others who speak up to defend those principles that he trashes so illiterately. If Charlie believes that this kind of suppression of speech is appropriate, why doesn’t he leave this country and go somewhere like Iraq where he would fit in better? Baghdad Charlie might be an appropriate name for him
OK, I’ve been one-upped. I was so proud of my Lick Bush 04 bumper sticker. This morning on my way to work, I pulled up behind someone who topped me. His license plate said FPOTUS. I briefly considered the possibility that it meant something other than the obvious (at least, obvious to me), especially considering the lack of spacing or punctuation on license plates. But when I got closer and saw his The Onion bumper sticker, it left no doubt that he really did mean F POTUS! I was just sorry that he turned before I got a chance to pull alongside and give a thumbs-up. I wonder if one of John Asscroft’s new counter-liberty systems will search DMV records for subversive license plates.
Update – my boss pointed out that FPOTUS does have another meaning and suggested a Google Search. OK, he’s right (F stands for Former), but I don’t really think this guy was a retired high-level federal employee.
Today was one of those days with a marginal weather forecast. Last night, the chance of rain was predicted at 70%, with references to showers and scattered strong storms. My brother and I conferred, and decided that unless the forecast improved dramatically overnight, we didn’t want to hunt in probable rain.
This morning, the forecast hadn’t changed. Conditions were absolutely gorgeous at 6 AM, but the forecast hadn’t changed, and the radar showed the stuff out there headed this way. So I went to work instead of taking a vacation day to get myself and my tack soaked.
Once I’ve made the decision not to hunt, it’s always a dilemma whether to hope it really does rain so I don’t feel bad about making the wrong decision, or whether to hope it clears up so that even if I’m not enjoying it, my friends can. I must be selfish; I felt gratified to look out my office window and see it raining on and off all afternoon.
On the eve of our next wave of atrocities against Iraq, Gretchen sent me a link to letters from Saddam Hussein. The site is very slow (and may well get slower or shut down completely), and I haven’t had time to read enough of it to make any profound comments, but I thought it was worth mentioning here.
I have to applaud the Dixie Chicks. While I’m ambivalent about their music, I admire the courage they have shown in recent public statements about the United States’ mad rush towards war in Iraq. While I realize that it’s common for many celebrities to polish their images by giving lip service to some noble cause, I have to believe the Chicks are sincere on this issue. If not, they’re idiots.
Continue reading “You Go, Girls!”
A Wired article alerted me to Christopher Allbritton’s blog about the impending US atrocities against Iraq, and his plans to provide independent coverage of the war. In spite of my pessimistic view that blogs like this are just preaching to the choir and not convincing anybody who isn’t already convinced, I think this is an effort worth supporting (and have the PayPal receipt to prove it). The American public needs and deserves an alternative to the corporate “journalism” which is the sole source of “news” for a large segment of the population (possibly explaining the ignorance exposed in polls such as the one I mentioned in an earlier rant).
Despite earlier gloomy predictions about a premature end of the hunt season, last night it looked like I was actually going to hunt today. There had been no cancellation notice, and everybody I talked to thought we were still in the “no news is good news” mode, although I didn’t find anybody who was actually planning to go. The weather forecast predicted a 30% chance of scattered showers, but that didn’t sound bad. This morning, I woke up and it was raining. The Weather Channel hourly forecast was promising rain all day. It wasn’t a really hard rain, probably not hard enough to actually cancel a hunt (I assume they went anyway). But it was hard enough to discourage me; I hate going out and getting all my tack soaked, especially on a horse that hadn’t hunted for over a month, without my brother or any of my regular buddies for support. So I spent another Wednesday at work; I’m getting really tired of that, especially now that the place is run by idiots.
I’m making a resolution to start reading The Onion more frequently. Julia steered me to this article. I started reading it hastily, without paying attention to the attached note, and at first thought it was an excellent parody of the past two years. Then I realized that it was actually written just before Dumbya’s inauguration, and was a frighteningly accurate prediction of what was about to occur. The truth is as bad as, or worse than, the parody.
I finally got a horse fix. It wasn’t tremendously exciting, but at least I managed to get my butt in a saddle for the first time since Groundhog Day (that little SOB really did see his shadow). As I mentioned earlier, hunting was impossible due to the ice storm damage, but today’s warm, sunny, windy conditions, which would have made lousy hunting, were ideal for a hack around the farm with my own hounds.