Je Suis NOT Charlie…My father, whose ultimate lot in his life was to keep alive and functioning some very sick people, sometimes would, out of the blue, assert, ‘The most powerful of all instincts is the instinct of self preservation.’ I thought of those words immediately after I learned of the horrific murders of those cartoonists and journalists at Charlie Hebdo magazine in Paris.
Why, of all words, were those evoked? Because, I think, self preservation was not, regrettably and tragically, a motivation of those journalists. They made some very elementary, grievous mistakes. In a fashion, they engineered their own deaths.
Mr. Gripes can only wonder, ‘What on earth were they thinking?” They couldn’t have been surprised, in the sense that September 11 2001 stunned all of us. After all, they were rather shockingly forewarned: their offices were firebombed by terrorists in 2011, causing severe damage. The firebombing should have set off all kinds of alarms. Apparently, though, it did not. That’s hard to believe.
Now, I don’t know a thing about Mohammed and Islam, and don’t care to know, but I do know this: if I were to draw a caricature of a naked Mohammed, which is absolute anathema to Islamists, and publish it in a magazine for millions of people to see, I would have to assume I may provoke and inflame some very dangerous, crazy, determined people, who would attempt very assiduously to kill me….and consequently I would take the necessary precautions to prevent that.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m a strong advocate of the press: a critical press and freedom of speech are the linchpins of democracy. Shackled and intimidated journalists in any country are the death knell of a free people [see Putin, Russia]. But, none of us live in a utopia – far from it, in fact – and common sense must rule; there’s a very good reason why yelling ‘Fire’ in a crowded movie theatre is against the law.
So, I can’t sit here and write that these dead cartoonists deserve all the posthumous praise coming their way for their ‘bravery’ and ‘courage.’ ‘Brave,’ yes, but they were also brazen and reckless; they couldn’t have been that naïve as to not comprehend the gravity of what they were doing.
A basic precept of defensive military strategy is that the leadership-command tier must be preserved; the dispersal of top-echelon leadership is essential. The same strategy should have held for the Charlie Hebdo editorial staff, but that was not done: week after week, on the identical day and time, in the same conference room, there was an editorial meeting of the magazine’s writers and staff. There was absolutely no need to congregate like that: just have everyone call in from their own residences, and conduct the meeting via teleconferencing.
All together in that one room meant they were sitting ducks when the attack occurred; the terrorists had discovered the precise details of the weekly editorial gathering. It was no coincidence that the two terrorists showed up on precisely the day and time of the meeting. Also, why was there only one bodyguard protecting the office, and, additionally, in possession of inferior firepower? He probably was blown away by an AK-47 in about 3 seconds.
No, I can’t just declare the dead cartoonists deserve all the honoraria for their bravery and courage. Yes, they were certainly ‘courageous’ in the face of all the threats that must have come their way. That doesn’t really suffice, though. They did not take the proper precautions. Perhaps they were all in denial.
One victim left a wife and four young children, the youngest of which is five years old. On television two days afterwards, she insisted she was very ‘proud’ of her husband. ‘Proud’? With some rudimentary precautions, her husband would still be alive. Six months from now, after the shock has worn off, as she sits at the dining room table late one Sunday night, alone, with the children finally asleep, and their father gone, I suspect her sentiments may be entirely different.
Oh, My Kingdom for Some Visuals --Huge blizzards, destructive floods, terrible train crashes, frightening plane crashes – the professional politicians love what these ‘visuals’ will provide. Of course, they’ll manage to look concerned, or aggrieved, or empathetic, but don’t let that fool you for a moment: they’re cold-bloodedly calculating the risk/reward of the optics. After all, disasters, the bigger the better, give our selfless public servants a golden opportunity to pose and strut: ‘I’m a take-charge guy, I’ll pull all the levers of power to take care of and protect all of you, my fellow citizens’. It’s a professional secret, of course, but politicians of all stripes welcome disaster events. Success, to these low-lifers, is getting that photo-op broadcast on television. In reality, though, it’s all a rehearsed show, and has nothing to do with actual competence.
Mr. Gripes chooses to comment on this American phenomenon [though Vladimir Putin, I admit, was the creator of the ultimate visual, puffing out his bare chest for all to see] after observing the two major political figures in New York – Andrew Cuomo and Bill DeBlasio – acting like children, all in an effort to look good on TV.
Despite DeBlasio’s prediction – and maybe his hope, I might add – that New York City would be hit by an ‘historic’ blizzard, perhaps two or three feet, we ended up getting a measly six inches. Prior to the snow, DeBlasio appeared on TV and began ordering New Yorkers to get off the streets, insisting they don’t go to work, even shutting down the subway system, a drastic move for a city that never sleeps.
The next day, when the storm wimped out, Governor Cuomo couldn’t let DeBlasio steal the stage – oh no, if that happened, Cuomo, the alpha male, would look like he wasn’t in control; so he pulled an old chestnut out of his pocket: he leapfrogged the scheduled DeBlasio press conference, starting a half hour prior, and, quickly, after donning a de rigeur working-men’s union windbreaker with the logo on the chest – that’s a visual, baby – he emerged triumphant, throwing out orders left and right to all his sappy lieutenants to get the city and state moving again.
Mr. Gripes, watching this, could just sense the tension between the governor and mayor. You see, it’s always a question of who gets that photo-op, and in this case, Cuomo ‘won.’ He probably doesn’t realize just how disturbingly ambitious he appeared, yakking away, in that windbreaker, managing to suck all the oxygen out of the room. Every one of these politicians is obsessively ambitious, but God forbid you look like it on TV – that’s bad optics.
A more egregious instance of staged optics is when New Jersey Governor Chris Christie ‘lucked out’ the day superstorm Sandy hit the Jersey shore. That event, to a superb practitioner of political stagecraft, like Christie, was equivalent to hitting the jackpot. When he embraced President Obama, who visited to observe for himself the devastation along the Jersey coast, he wasn’t concerned so much with the welfare and safety of his constituents.
Nope. He figured by hugging the President, the No. #1 Democrat devil, he would look like the great unifier – prospective national voters would think, ‘Wow, here’s someone who will work with his Democratic opponents and get things done.’ Mr. Christie, even as he toured the damage, knew the image of him and Obama embracing would catapult him onto the national stage.
As for Christie the unifier? Obsolete baloney, of course. Not a year later, when the Democratic mayor of Fort Lee refused to endorse Mr. Christie for re-election, the George Washington Bridge, which both originates from and empties into Fort Lee, was mysteriously pinched to only one working lane, causing absolute chaos and gridlock. The ‘Great Unifier’ turns out to be the ‘Great Divider.’
Talk about bad optics -- Mr. Gripes concludes this piece with a couple of observations regarding President Obama and his golf game. Let’s face it: golf is terrible optics for any president. Vacationing for two weeks in Hawaii, while 80% of his constituency is freezing their buns off on the mainland, is bad enough [maybe he gets a pass for this, because it is his home state], but watching him saunter down a beautifully groomed fairway, gentle breezes wafting through the palm trees, exotic birds chattering joyously against an impossibly blue and cloudless sky in the background, just another perfect day in paradise is, I’m afraid, a horrible visual for this President. As the rest of us watch this, we suffer at that moment from a terminal case of envy. Green-with-envy doesn’t properly describe the depth of our distress – it’s more like raging with debilitating jealousy.
One more thing, Mr. President: get rid of those white golf shoes, will you? For the candidate who promised us hope and change a million years ago, those white shoes say one thing: ‘I now identify with the very rich: the hedge fund guys, the Wall Street manipulators and bongo-artists, the Silicon Valley billionaires, George Clooney and other Hollywood glitterati. As for the increasingly marginalized working class? That’s so over for me and Michelle.’
A word of advice: You can’t espouse caring about the struggles of the middle class when you’re wearing shoes that even Jay Gatsby would love to have in his closet. The visuals clash.
Jim Israel
Mr. Gripes
February 8, 2015
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Friday, September 12, 2014
It’s Not a Cakewalk Anymore, Hillary…
Ernest Hemingway, not a person inclined to internalize, often asserted the solution to writers block was uncomplicated: ‘Sit in the damn chair and start typing.’ Mr. Gripes, though, approaches his own formidable resistances from a more fanciful place – a personal certitude that the Writing Gods will eventually provide gorgeous material.
And, yes, over the past two decades, the Gods have delivered, as if on a silver platter, the miracle of the duopoly of Bill and Hillary Clinton, with a recent third-wheel addition, Chelsea, as well. For Mr. Gripes, the Grand Farce of the Clintons over the years has been akin to a diamond-encrusted gift at Christmas – voila, Mr. Gripes’ writers block vanishes.
In this scribbling, leaving Bill and Chelsea aside, we’ll concentrate on Hillary:
Consider her exalted circumstances just eight months ago: a woman whose approval ratings hovered around 75%, there was no other public figure close to her in terms of popularity, or garnered as much respect or prestige for her stints as a New York senator and Secretary of State in the Obama Administration. Perhaps more importantly, there was a sense of inevitability and rolling-stone momentum that would lead directly to the Presidency. Her husband Bill, First Lady in waiting, most likely had already selected the color of the drapes and matching pillow cases for the White House bedroom.
On top of all that, her newly written autobiography, ‘Hard Choices’ , had recently been published, for which she would travel around the country appearing at book stores and radio stations, basking in an outpouring of gratitude and reverence from fans. In a style reminiscent of a Roman general garlanded with flowered necklaces on his return home after another successful campaign, Ms. Clinton would emerge triumphant and even more popular from her cross-country book tour. She was going to be unstoppable.
Didn’t quite happen like that.
Her 755-page tome was basically a complete flop – one of those eyes-won’t-stay-open-without-a-toothpick doorstop bores. Touted as a flint-steeled analysis of her travails and successes as Secretary of State, critics immediately revealed the book to be the opposite: fearful of antagonizing potential backers and voters, pulling all her punches, she served readers a huge bowlful of bland, tasteless porridge -- and the book died on the vine. In the first month, it was reported a measly 162,000 copies were sold; this was after bookstores were shipped millions. The publisher, who paid Hillary a $14 million [!!] advance, took one hell of a financial beating – imagine how many heads rolled afterwards.
And, then, out on the tour, things only got worse…much worse. In response to a question about her net worth, Ms. Clinton asserted she and her husband were ‘flat broke’ the day they left the White House.
Kaboom! From that very moment, all the momentum evaporated; the Hillary balloon collapsed in a shuttering fall, reminiscent of the Von Hindenburg dirigible plummeting to earth, in flames. Or, if I may mix my metaphors, as one professional basketball player summed up his team’s atrocious play: ‘the ship be sinking.’
She had made a classic mistake: sure, America is not a particularly punitive nation; after all, Americans – all of us – know that politicians lie and lie all the time; it’s in their DNA, almost, and we begrudgingly accept it. But, we also know ex-Presidents, if not rich when they leave office, become human ATMs immediately, and can become very, very wealthy, without much heaving lifting. People are screwy about money, especially their own, and will not tolerate hearing about impoverishment from anyone who is manifestly and supremely well-off. That particular lie makes citizens very angry– and, in her off-the-cuff remarks, Hillary had unleashed some real fury.
Here’s why she shouldn’t have never complained about her family’s financial fortunes: immediately after exiting DC, she and Bill moved into the very affluent community of Chappaqua, New York, residing in a $1.7 million house that she and her husband bought, with a $350,000 down payment; she at the same time purchased a seven-room townhouse in Georgetown for $2.8 million, having to come up with $855,000 cash to secure that additional mortgage. Let’s also remind ourselves that Bill Clinton was making millions within months of leaving office, presently presumed to have a net worth of $100 million dollars – and he’s not exactly breaking rocks in some quarry, but talking for an hour at $250,000 a pop all over the world – a cushy gig we’d all love to have.
And how did Hillary deal with the barrage of invective tossed her way after her blunder? ‘We were in debt. We struggled to piece together resources to mortgage two houses. Just like regular folks. It was not easy.’ It’s that ‘just like regular folks’ comment that absolutely enraged Mr. Gripes, himself usually an admirer of hers. Just imagine how others, not firm supporters to begin with, feel now about her. The White House no longer looms large just across the street; it’s far away on a hazy horizon, and it’s going to be a long, nasty, vicious fight for the next year and a half.
This ‘dead-broke’ debacle highlights a rather discordant fact about Ms. Clinton: she is not a facile nor adroit politician – I’d say, in fact, she’s a very mediocre, klutzy one. Look at her history: despite being an overwhelming favorite to secure the Democratic nomination in 2011, she was clobbered by a veritable greenhorn and a far superior tactician, Barack Obama.
Ms. Clinton’s husband, despite a long ‘rap sheet’ of incidents demonstrating appalling behavior toward women, just marched on, impervious to all the accusations. Hillary, Mr. Gripes asserts, is much more sensitive to criticism, and not quick or adept on her feet responding to questions thrown at her, a prerequisite of every skilled politician. Worse, again unlike her husband, she has a bit of a ‘tin ear’ when it comes to really understanding her American constituency. Americans, collectively, can be idealistic, grandiose, infantile, apathetic, ignorant, generous, incensed at the abuse thrown at us by the rest of the world, and proud as hell to be Americans [most of the time]. The attuned politician picks up, as if by osmosis, this eclectic American psyche, and operates accordingly. I’m afraid that Hillary Clinton may be tone deaf.
Mr. Gripes is sure of one thing: Fox News and the Republican attack dogs are going to have a field day next year. Even if she prevails, Hillary is going to endure one hell of a beating.
Jim Israel
Mr. Gripes
September 12, 2014
And, yes, over the past two decades, the Gods have delivered, as if on a silver platter, the miracle of the duopoly of Bill and Hillary Clinton, with a recent third-wheel addition, Chelsea, as well. For Mr. Gripes, the Grand Farce of the Clintons over the years has been akin to a diamond-encrusted gift at Christmas – voila, Mr. Gripes’ writers block vanishes.
In this scribbling, leaving Bill and Chelsea aside, we’ll concentrate on Hillary:
Consider her exalted circumstances just eight months ago: a woman whose approval ratings hovered around 75%, there was no other public figure close to her in terms of popularity, or garnered as much respect or prestige for her stints as a New York senator and Secretary of State in the Obama Administration. Perhaps more importantly, there was a sense of inevitability and rolling-stone momentum that would lead directly to the Presidency. Her husband Bill, First Lady in waiting, most likely had already selected the color of the drapes and matching pillow cases for the White House bedroom.
On top of all that, her newly written autobiography, ‘Hard Choices’ , had recently been published, for which she would travel around the country appearing at book stores and radio stations, basking in an outpouring of gratitude and reverence from fans. In a style reminiscent of a Roman general garlanded with flowered necklaces on his return home after another successful campaign, Ms. Clinton would emerge triumphant and even more popular from her cross-country book tour. She was going to be unstoppable.
Didn’t quite happen like that.
Her 755-page tome was basically a complete flop – one of those eyes-won’t-stay-open-without-a-toothpick doorstop bores. Touted as a flint-steeled analysis of her travails and successes as Secretary of State, critics immediately revealed the book to be the opposite: fearful of antagonizing potential backers and voters, pulling all her punches, she served readers a huge bowlful of bland, tasteless porridge -- and the book died on the vine. In the first month, it was reported a measly 162,000 copies were sold; this was after bookstores were shipped millions. The publisher, who paid Hillary a $14 million [!!] advance, took one hell of a financial beating – imagine how many heads rolled afterwards.
And, then, out on the tour, things only got worse…much worse. In response to a question about her net worth, Ms. Clinton asserted she and her husband were ‘flat broke’ the day they left the White House.
Kaboom! From that very moment, all the momentum evaporated; the Hillary balloon collapsed in a shuttering fall, reminiscent of the Von Hindenburg dirigible plummeting to earth, in flames. Or, if I may mix my metaphors, as one professional basketball player summed up his team’s atrocious play: ‘the ship be sinking.’
She had made a classic mistake: sure, America is not a particularly punitive nation; after all, Americans – all of us – know that politicians lie and lie all the time; it’s in their DNA, almost, and we begrudgingly accept it. But, we also know ex-Presidents, if not rich when they leave office, become human ATMs immediately, and can become very, very wealthy, without much heaving lifting. People are screwy about money, especially their own, and will not tolerate hearing about impoverishment from anyone who is manifestly and supremely well-off. That particular lie makes citizens very angry– and, in her off-the-cuff remarks, Hillary had unleashed some real fury.
Here’s why she shouldn’t have never complained about her family’s financial fortunes: immediately after exiting DC, she and Bill moved into the very affluent community of Chappaqua, New York, residing in a $1.7 million house that she and her husband bought, with a $350,000 down payment; she at the same time purchased a seven-room townhouse in Georgetown for $2.8 million, having to come up with $855,000 cash to secure that additional mortgage. Let’s also remind ourselves that Bill Clinton was making millions within months of leaving office, presently presumed to have a net worth of $100 million dollars – and he’s not exactly breaking rocks in some quarry, but talking for an hour at $250,000 a pop all over the world – a cushy gig we’d all love to have.
And how did Hillary deal with the barrage of invective tossed her way after her blunder? ‘We were in debt. We struggled to piece together resources to mortgage two houses. Just like regular folks. It was not easy.’ It’s that ‘just like regular folks’ comment that absolutely enraged Mr. Gripes, himself usually an admirer of hers. Just imagine how others, not firm supporters to begin with, feel now about her. The White House no longer looms large just across the street; it’s far away on a hazy horizon, and it’s going to be a long, nasty, vicious fight for the next year and a half.
This ‘dead-broke’ debacle highlights a rather discordant fact about Ms. Clinton: she is not a facile nor adroit politician – I’d say, in fact, she’s a very mediocre, klutzy one. Look at her history: despite being an overwhelming favorite to secure the Democratic nomination in 2011, she was clobbered by a veritable greenhorn and a far superior tactician, Barack Obama.
Ms. Clinton’s husband, despite a long ‘rap sheet’ of incidents demonstrating appalling behavior toward women, just marched on, impervious to all the accusations. Hillary, Mr. Gripes asserts, is much more sensitive to criticism, and not quick or adept on her feet responding to questions thrown at her, a prerequisite of every skilled politician. Worse, again unlike her husband, she has a bit of a ‘tin ear’ when it comes to really understanding her American constituency. Americans, collectively, can be idealistic, grandiose, infantile, apathetic, ignorant, generous, incensed at the abuse thrown at us by the rest of the world, and proud as hell to be Americans [most of the time]. The attuned politician picks up, as if by osmosis, this eclectic American psyche, and operates accordingly. I’m afraid that Hillary Clinton may be tone deaf.
Mr. Gripes is sure of one thing: Fox News and the Republican attack dogs are going to have a field day next year. Even if she prevails, Hillary is going to endure one hell of a beating.
Jim Israel
Mr. Gripes
September 12, 2014
Friday, June 13, 2014
Iraq & Vietnam – Oh, So Similar / The Ignored Veterans / Gay Rights & Mr. Hudson
Again, 40 Years Later – Mr. Gripes, a student of history all his life, is not generally an adherent of the much-tossed-around adage that ‘history repeats itself.’ It’s his belief that every era has its own distinctive characteristics, and, consequently, rather than a repetition, a historical event occupies its own unique space.
But, this week, the headlines emanating from Iraq, to a ‘T’, evoke identical sentiments that Mr. Gripes felt some 40 years ago, or, 1975 to be precise. A little background is in order:
In the years prior to 1975, as the war in Vietnam was winding down, the Nixon-Kissinger Administration insisted, over and over again, Vietnamese troops, well trained and sufficiently armed, would be capable of offering security to the country when the American forces left. In nothing but confident tones, at least publicly, President Nixon, and his sidekick Henry Kissinger, avowed over and over again there was nothing to worry about. South Vietnam would remain safe and secure from its enemy to the north, and would remain a loyal American ally even as we drew down our military commitment.
Suddenly – and it did happen very quickly, just like what’s occurring in Iraq now – we started reading stories of frightened Vietnamese troops giving up the fight, either deserting to the enemy or throwing away their guns and disappearing into the ‘bush.’ American forces, caught off guard by a complete South Vietnam army collapse, immediately began flying out of the areas north of Saigon; desperate South Vietnamese soldiers even attempted to jump on to the planes as they were taking off, with Marines fending them off with rifle butts. The rout had begun.
The North Vietnam troops, in no time, were marching south toward Saigon, as city after city fell to their troops. South Vietnamese troops fled south too, just in front of the enemy. The defeat was total, and the Vietcong, with no opposition, reached Saigon at the end of April, taking over the capital in just one day with no armed resistance.
That situation way back then has an eerie resemblance to what’s going on in Iraq presently : The Iraqi forces, constantly praised by their American counterparts for their ability to provide security for their country when the Americans leave, are instead throwing away their arms, deserting and returning to their villages as civilians – just like in 1975. And, the speed of the Iraqi army collapse evokes exactly the same shock and surprise as the fall of Vietnam 40 years ago. Already, two large cities have been occupied by the ‘insurgents’, as they are called in the papers. There’s a sense in the air of total defeat. The Taliban and/or Al Queda will win after all. Once again, The United States has been severely damaged by its huge capacity for self-delusion.
While on the subject of self-delusion, Mr. Gripes is acutely aware that there are plenty of Republicans reading this, who will not like what I’m going to assert: this was and is George Bush’s war. He’s solely responsible for getting us into a war in which there was no national-security interest: there were no Al Queda nor Taliban in Iraq [Hussein would have executed everyone of them] when it was invaded in 2003, and there was no connection between Iraq and 9-11 either. Iraq is on the verge now of becoming the largest and most dangerous ‘breeding grounds’ for our ferocious Al Queda enemies.
How insane is that: from no Al Queda or Taliban on Iraqi territory before our invasion to a country that will create thousands and thousands of them. And, all of this could have been avoided without a single soldier dying. Bush and Cheney should be tried as war criminals.
There’ll be one huge difference between this war and the Vietnam fight: the blood bath that will ensue after Al Queda wins is going to be epic. The North Vietnamese put their southern enemies in ‘re-education’ camps for a few years, then they were released, and that was it. Al Queda? They’ll execute anybody who had any relationship with the Allies; teachers, soldiers, women, children, families, politicians, businessmen, religious leaders – the killing fields are going to be awful. The blood of all these victims, like Lady McBeth, will not easily be cleansed from the hands of George W. Bush, Richard Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld. And let’s not forget the souls of the 4,486 American soldiers who died for nothing.
Class War-Fare – If Mr. Gripes may be a bit flippant for a moment, we’ve been to this rodeo before: I’m talking about the now-upon-us scandal regarding the unconscionable and callous treatment of Iraq and Afghanistan War veterans by the Veterans Administration. Remember the revelations about abysmal care of vets at Walter Reed Hospital in Bethesda during the Bush Administration? Same thing today: seemingly right under the ostensibly vigilant eyes and ears of officials of all stripes, veterans, then and now, are shunned like garbage that’s been left in the sun for a week.
It’s outrageous, to say the least. Sure, the VA appears to be just another entrenched, non-responsive bureaucracy that doesn’t give one sh_t about its constituents: it’s as if these VA flunkies are saying, “Let ‘em wait for treatment for six months; they can just sit on their sofas and bitch all they want to their wives, but I’m not paying attention. I got one hell of a cushy government job, and I’m just countin’ the days before my fully invested pension kicks in-- then I’m out the door. F__k ‘em.’
But, as incompetent and uncaring as the VA acts, Mr. Gripes puts the most blame for this outrage on another unresponsive bunch: elected officials. I’m not only talking about the national politicians, the senators and representatives. I’m talking about all of them, from town, city and municipal officials, all the way up the chain. They must hear complaints all the time about the massive problems veterans are faced with, and yet nothing’s done. Unashamedly, these guys [and it’s ‘guys’ who are the main culprits; women, I’m sure, would act much more benevolently, faced with this situation] have no compunction about getting in front of crowds come Memorial Day or July 4 and tearfully thank veterans for ‘their service and sacrifice to their country.’ What empty words from the mouths of cretins.
It’s out-of-sight, out-of-mind. That’s the mindset of the officials who have oversight over the treatment of veterans. Once the crowds on patriotic holidays dissipate, it’s back to the business of ignoring the soldiers’ plight. And, in that vein, what the hell are the Congressional oversight committees for veteran affairs doing? They have just ONE job: make sure the Veterans Administration works as humanely and efficiently as possible for ailing and troubled veterans. That’s all they’re required to do, and they’ve failed again.
You ask yourself, ‘Why? Why the screw-ups? Why the utter disregard for people who endured these stupid, senseless wars?’ At first glance, there appear to be no adequate answers.
There is, in fact, a very simple explanation, once American class structure is examined. Active-duty soldiers, and veterans, mostly come from economically disadvantaged circumstances, or, more bluntly, from poor families. The military option is often their only pathway to getting out of their neighborhoods and escaping impoverishment. So, they join up.
And, as the chasm between the affluent and poor classes widens in this country, the disadvantaged are more and more marginalized: when politicians spend more and more time raising money from the rich, and make decisions based on their contributors’ wishes, the concerns of the struggling poor become less and less of a factor in governance. The government has become a rich man’s playground.
And, the rich vs. poor class battle is the obvious explanation for this morally criminal behavior, as veterans generally come from and return to meager circumstances. They have no political clout anymore, and no influence, because they have no money.
This week, the Senate passed a bill allowing veterans getting the run-around at VA hospitals the option of using local physicians instead -- by a vote of 98-0. What assistance did those 98 son-of-a-bitch senators offer to these poor vets before? They did nothing, until bad publicity forced them to act. It’s the same old story.
One more crucial factor in this debacle: the increasingly insular, affluent American citizen doesn’t lift a finger for vets either – an average, upper-class American would say, ‘Sure, it’s messy, it’s a sad situation, but it’s not my problem; someone else deal with it.’ Politicians, understanding precisely the apathy of their voters, and realizing the affluent class is overwhelmingly fixated on their own parochial desires, simply avert their eyes from every one of these desperate, troubled, and barely-making-it vets, wishing they’d all go far, far away. Until the roof caves in.
Rock Hudson -- Do you recall, readers, the complete shock when you found out that Rock Hudson had died of AIDS? Mr. Gripes could not believe it: Rock Hudson, the actor who slept in the beds of Doris Day and many other beautiful women in the movies, and from all indications straight as an arrow [at least, to me], dying of AIDS? Impossible.
My goodness, we were so innocent and ignorant back then. Mr. Hudson died in 1985, yet it seems as if his death occurred a thousand years ago. Gay ‘liberation’ from closeted, furtive lives has been gathering momentum ever since, with state and federal laws against homosexual union and marriage being tossed into the trash bin at a quickening pace.
Why so fast? It’s Mr. Gripes’ belief that television, of all things, was the catalyst that really propelled the progress of gay rights on a national scale. Let’s not forget that one of the tightly held tenets of individuals who were against gay rights was the idea that somehow gay people, if they were in close proximity to straight people, might attempt to ‘seduce’ them and convince them to become homosexuals. Gays were ‘different,’ and that scared the hell out of a lot of people.
The MTV reality show, ‘The Real World’ , which originated in 1992, was the first show, I think, in which homosexual participants living in the house did not conceal the fact that they were gay – the homosexual person living among 5 or 6 straight people did not try to ‘play-act’ a heterosexual. If he were gay, everyone was going to know about it. He or she hid nothing. And guess what? Everyone in that house came to accept that person as an equal, to be treated with the same respect – or, just as likely on that show, disrespect -- and with the same dignity as everyone else. The straights remained straight, and the gays remained gay. And they all got along fine, for the most part.
Watching that show every week pried open a lot of prejudiced eyes: they observed that gay people are essentially no different than straight people – the struggles of life, love and work are the same for homosexuals and heterosexuals alike.
Smoking marijuana will be the next bastion to fall. And, it’s happening very quickly, too. Still, there remain fortresses of ignorance: a professional football player was just banned from playing for one year, forfeiting millions of dollars in salary, because a drug test revealed marijuana traces in his blood. I feel for the guy. In another year, I’ll bet, the draconian penalty for marijuana use in professional athletics will be toast; there’ll be no longer equating marijuana with cocaine or performance-enhancing drugs.
There is other opposition, of course, to legalizing marijuana. One of the more convincing arguments revolves around driving impairment. In that regard, Mr. Gripes recounts an incident in one of Chris Farley’s movies: Mr. Farley had just left a party in which he partook the pleasures of smoking a couple of marijuana ‘bongs’, got stoned up to his eyeballs, and is now driving down a freeway in southern California, going back home. He gets pulled over by a cop.
The state trooper swaggers up to Mr. Farley’s car window, at which point Mr. Farley looks up at the officer, asking him, meekly, “What I’d do?”
“Young man,” the cop exclaims, “do you have any idea how fast you were driving?”
Mr. Farley, in a whisper, offers, “Fifty-five?”
“Seven!”, the trooper bellows, “seven bleeping miles an hour!”
So, boys, don’t worry: excessive speeding and marijuana do not go well together.
Jim Israel
Mr. Gripes
June 13, 2014
But, this week, the headlines emanating from Iraq, to a ‘T’, evoke identical sentiments that Mr. Gripes felt some 40 years ago, or, 1975 to be precise. A little background is in order:
In the years prior to 1975, as the war in Vietnam was winding down, the Nixon-Kissinger Administration insisted, over and over again, Vietnamese troops, well trained and sufficiently armed, would be capable of offering security to the country when the American forces left. In nothing but confident tones, at least publicly, President Nixon, and his sidekick Henry Kissinger, avowed over and over again there was nothing to worry about. South Vietnam would remain safe and secure from its enemy to the north, and would remain a loyal American ally even as we drew down our military commitment.
Suddenly – and it did happen very quickly, just like what’s occurring in Iraq now – we started reading stories of frightened Vietnamese troops giving up the fight, either deserting to the enemy or throwing away their guns and disappearing into the ‘bush.’ American forces, caught off guard by a complete South Vietnam army collapse, immediately began flying out of the areas north of Saigon; desperate South Vietnamese soldiers even attempted to jump on to the planes as they were taking off, with Marines fending them off with rifle butts. The rout had begun.
The North Vietnam troops, in no time, were marching south toward Saigon, as city after city fell to their troops. South Vietnamese troops fled south too, just in front of the enemy. The defeat was total, and the Vietcong, with no opposition, reached Saigon at the end of April, taking over the capital in just one day with no armed resistance.
That situation way back then has an eerie resemblance to what’s going on in Iraq presently : The Iraqi forces, constantly praised by their American counterparts for their ability to provide security for their country when the Americans leave, are instead throwing away their arms, deserting and returning to their villages as civilians – just like in 1975. And, the speed of the Iraqi army collapse evokes exactly the same shock and surprise as the fall of Vietnam 40 years ago. Already, two large cities have been occupied by the ‘insurgents’, as they are called in the papers. There’s a sense in the air of total defeat. The Taliban and/or Al Queda will win after all. Once again, The United States has been severely damaged by its huge capacity for self-delusion.
While on the subject of self-delusion, Mr. Gripes is acutely aware that there are plenty of Republicans reading this, who will not like what I’m going to assert: this was and is George Bush’s war. He’s solely responsible for getting us into a war in which there was no national-security interest: there were no Al Queda nor Taliban in Iraq [Hussein would have executed everyone of them] when it was invaded in 2003, and there was no connection between Iraq and 9-11 either. Iraq is on the verge now of becoming the largest and most dangerous ‘breeding grounds’ for our ferocious Al Queda enemies.
How insane is that: from no Al Queda or Taliban on Iraqi territory before our invasion to a country that will create thousands and thousands of them. And, all of this could have been avoided without a single soldier dying. Bush and Cheney should be tried as war criminals.
There’ll be one huge difference between this war and the Vietnam fight: the blood bath that will ensue after Al Queda wins is going to be epic. The North Vietnamese put their southern enemies in ‘re-education’ camps for a few years, then they were released, and that was it. Al Queda? They’ll execute anybody who had any relationship with the Allies; teachers, soldiers, women, children, families, politicians, businessmen, religious leaders – the killing fields are going to be awful. The blood of all these victims, like Lady McBeth, will not easily be cleansed from the hands of George W. Bush, Richard Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld. And let’s not forget the souls of the 4,486 American soldiers who died for nothing.
Class War-Fare – If Mr. Gripes may be a bit flippant for a moment, we’ve been to this rodeo before: I’m talking about the now-upon-us scandal regarding the unconscionable and callous treatment of Iraq and Afghanistan War veterans by the Veterans Administration. Remember the revelations about abysmal care of vets at Walter Reed Hospital in Bethesda during the Bush Administration? Same thing today: seemingly right under the ostensibly vigilant eyes and ears of officials of all stripes, veterans, then and now, are shunned like garbage that’s been left in the sun for a week.
It’s outrageous, to say the least. Sure, the VA appears to be just another entrenched, non-responsive bureaucracy that doesn’t give one sh_t about its constituents: it’s as if these VA flunkies are saying, “Let ‘em wait for treatment for six months; they can just sit on their sofas and bitch all they want to their wives, but I’m not paying attention. I got one hell of a cushy government job, and I’m just countin’ the days before my fully invested pension kicks in-- then I’m out the door. F__k ‘em.’
But, as incompetent and uncaring as the VA acts, Mr. Gripes puts the most blame for this outrage on another unresponsive bunch: elected officials. I’m not only talking about the national politicians, the senators and representatives. I’m talking about all of them, from town, city and municipal officials, all the way up the chain. They must hear complaints all the time about the massive problems veterans are faced with, and yet nothing’s done. Unashamedly, these guys [and it’s ‘guys’ who are the main culprits; women, I’m sure, would act much more benevolently, faced with this situation] have no compunction about getting in front of crowds come Memorial Day or July 4 and tearfully thank veterans for ‘their service and sacrifice to their country.’ What empty words from the mouths of cretins.
It’s out-of-sight, out-of-mind. That’s the mindset of the officials who have oversight over the treatment of veterans. Once the crowds on patriotic holidays dissipate, it’s back to the business of ignoring the soldiers’ plight. And, in that vein, what the hell are the Congressional oversight committees for veteran affairs doing? They have just ONE job: make sure the Veterans Administration works as humanely and efficiently as possible for ailing and troubled veterans. That’s all they’re required to do, and they’ve failed again.
You ask yourself, ‘Why? Why the screw-ups? Why the utter disregard for people who endured these stupid, senseless wars?’ At first glance, there appear to be no adequate answers.
There is, in fact, a very simple explanation, once American class structure is examined. Active-duty soldiers, and veterans, mostly come from economically disadvantaged circumstances, or, more bluntly, from poor families. The military option is often their only pathway to getting out of their neighborhoods and escaping impoverishment. So, they join up.
And, as the chasm between the affluent and poor classes widens in this country, the disadvantaged are more and more marginalized: when politicians spend more and more time raising money from the rich, and make decisions based on their contributors’ wishes, the concerns of the struggling poor become less and less of a factor in governance. The government has become a rich man’s playground.
And, the rich vs. poor class battle is the obvious explanation for this morally criminal behavior, as veterans generally come from and return to meager circumstances. They have no political clout anymore, and no influence, because they have no money.
This week, the Senate passed a bill allowing veterans getting the run-around at VA hospitals the option of using local physicians instead -- by a vote of 98-0. What assistance did those 98 son-of-a-bitch senators offer to these poor vets before? They did nothing, until bad publicity forced them to act. It’s the same old story.
One more crucial factor in this debacle: the increasingly insular, affluent American citizen doesn’t lift a finger for vets either – an average, upper-class American would say, ‘Sure, it’s messy, it’s a sad situation, but it’s not my problem; someone else deal with it.’ Politicians, understanding precisely the apathy of their voters, and realizing the affluent class is overwhelmingly fixated on their own parochial desires, simply avert their eyes from every one of these desperate, troubled, and barely-making-it vets, wishing they’d all go far, far away. Until the roof caves in.
Rock Hudson -- Do you recall, readers, the complete shock when you found out that Rock Hudson had died of AIDS? Mr. Gripes could not believe it: Rock Hudson, the actor who slept in the beds of Doris Day and many other beautiful women in the movies, and from all indications straight as an arrow [at least, to me], dying of AIDS? Impossible.
My goodness, we were so innocent and ignorant back then. Mr. Hudson died in 1985, yet it seems as if his death occurred a thousand years ago. Gay ‘liberation’ from closeted, furtive lives has been gathering momentum ever since, with state and federal laws against homosexual union and marriage being tossed into the trash bin at a quickening pace.
Why so fast? It’s Mr. Gripes’ belief that television, of all things, was the catalyst that really propelled the progress of gay rights on a national scale. Let’s not forget that one of the tightly held tenets of individuals who were against gay rights was the idea that somehow gay people, if they were in close proximity to straight people, might attempt to ‘seduce’ them and convince them to become homosexuals. Gays were ‘different,’ and that scared the hell out of a lot of people.
The MTV reality show, ‘The Real World’ , which originated in 1992, was the first show, I think, in which homosexual participants living in the house did not conceal the fact that they were gay – the homosexual person living among 5 or 6 straight people did not try to ‘play-act’ a heterosexual. If he were gay, everyone was going to know about it. He or she hid nothing. And guess what? Everyone in that house came to accept that person as an equal, to be treated with the same respect – or, just as likely on that show, disrespect -- and with the same dignity as everyone else. The straights remained straight, and the gays remained gay. And they all got along fine, for the most part.
Watching that show every week pried open a lot of prejudiced eyes: they observed that gay people are essentially no different than straight people – the struggles of life, love and work are the same for homosexuals and heterosexuals alike.
Smoking marijuana will be the next bastion to fall. And, it’s happening very quickly, too. Still, there remain fortresses of ignorance: a professional football player was just banned from playing for one year, forfeiting millions of dollars in salary, because a drug test revealed marijuana traces in his blood. I feel for the guy. In another year, I’ll bet, the draconian penalty for marijuana use in professional athletics will be toast; there’ll be no longer equating marijuana with cocaine or performance-enhancing drugs.
There is other opposition, of course, to legalizing marijuana. One of the more convincing arguments revolves around driving impairment. In that regard, Mr. Gripes recounts an incident in one of Chris Farley’s movies: Mr. Farley had just left a party in which he partook the pleasures of smoking a couple of marijuana ‘bongs’, got stoned up to his eyeballs, and is now driving down a freeway in southern California, going back home. He gets pulled over by a cop.
The state trooper swaggers up to Mr. Farley’s car window, at which point Mr. Farley looks up at the officer, asking him, meekly, “What I’d do?”
“Young man,” the cop exclaims, “do you have any idea how fast you were driving?”
Mr. Farley, in a whisper, offers, “Fifty-five?”
“Seven!”, the trooper bellows, “seven bleeping miles an hour!”
So, boys, don’t worry: excessive speeding and marijuana do not go well together.
Jim Israel
Mr. Gripes
June 13, 2014
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