Response to a PUMA

I read this blog tonight with interest. And I laughed several times. But the endgame of the blog's author is questionable. For your reading pleasure (or nausea), this was my response to that author:

Mike,

I liked the wit and constrained vitriol in your blog. But while I am no more the zombie-minded minion of Obama than you are, I am befuddled by your comments:
“But, just because I'm not voting for Obama, doesn't mean I've lost my
marbles.”

So, just whom are you voting for? Ralph Nader? Bob Barr? Cynthia McKinney?

I sympathize with the need to have a strong third (and fourth and fifth and sixth) party. But in the meantime, a McCain presidency could well spell the end of our society. Do you mean to indicate that you would actually welcome that?

I wrote with barely controlled fury when Obama voted “yea” on the FISA bill. In a moment of pique I even threatened to campaign against him.

Talk about cutting off one’s nose to spite one’s face.

FDR did not run on a progressive platform. He was born and bred to privilege. But the times, and more importantly, the will of the people, transformed his presidency into the most progressive of the last century. And please don’t parade out Japanese internment camps, and other war-time limitations of liberty. The net result put millions of our parents, aunts and uncles through school. It resulted in an infrastructure that, until Reagan started abandoning it, was the industrial envy of the world. In short, FDR’s programs, incited by the masses and perfected by a great intellect, ended the first great depression and initiated the greatest middle class this world has ever seen (until, yes you guessed it, Reagan decided to end that too).

You may idealize one of the third (or fourth or fifth) party candidates. I myself idealized Dennis Kucinich. And I still do. But I realize that even if we really truly had free and honest elections, my hero, Dennis, would likely not be a strong president. He doesn’t lack intellect, nor tenacity. He lacks the ability to pull people together toward the achievement of a common goal. Oration has been dismissed at Hillary Clinton’s peril. And the McCain campaign is attempting to dismiss it now as well. But when the people of a nation, or of a planet, have the need to come together under a common cause (perhaps for our survival), oration comes in mighty damn handy. And it can’t hurt one bit to have a predilection for even moderate progressiveness.

So what practically executable vision do you have?

Sincerely,

Yar

Vision

I know that in itself, rhetoric is insufficient as a means of enacting social progression. I know Barack Obama shocked and dismayed many of us as he first announced his intention to say "aye" to the unconstitutional FISA bill, and then followed it up with an "aye" on the record in session. And all this when his vote didn't even count, as that awful bill passed far too easily.

I know many of us have chafed at Barack's promise of expanded "faith-based initiative" programs. The word on the liberal street is that Obama is drifting all to swiftly towards the center. And we who put our hearts out in front of our sanity to vaunt his advance over Hillary's juggernaut campaign, have had our sanity severely challenged as a result.

But damn, that man can give a speech. His soliloquy in Berlin today was one more amazing call to action and awareness for those of us who find no value in life except that we confront head-on the human tradegy.

In his speech today, Mr. Obama decided to include the entire world. He did so in a manner that would have elevated John Kennedy. And he managed to bring me to tears. He went beyond his own ambitions; he dispensed with the ambitions of the Democratic Party; he left the ambitions of the United States, and those of Europe, far behind. And he challenged the world. He challenged the world in a way that did not unfairly burden those least able to provide answers, and in a way that fully burdened those who could, and who must, be so burdened. But he included us all as brothers and sisters, and offered a vision, and an obligation, for us all. He acknowledged that we face an hour that is as fraught with peril as it is implicitly positioned for hope. And yet his vision holds out for that hope.

I am no fool. But I will vote for this man and I will pour my strength into securing the success he has dared us all to envision.

Flickr Pics

At a friend's recommendation I started this Flickr account. I've loaded 120 photos to date. Some are good I think. The remainder are filler.

Visiting Swallowtail

This beautiful specimin visited our backyard two evenings ago.

Tell-a-Gramm

Here is a very good opinion piece from the Philadelphia Daily News. Written by a conservative with a brain.

Blogs | Tom Udall for Senate

Blogs Tom Udall for Senate

FISA Bill

Yesterday's Senate vote on the FISA bill, which passed 69 to 28, was a very dissapointing blow. The vote didn't come as a surprise; the direction the wind has been blowing on this bill has been evident for some time. But that very wind direction is what is surprising. One would think that current public sentiment would be sufficient for this awful direction to change.

However, I am writing this not to complain about this horrid situation. I do that enough (and I'm not getting anywhere near quitting). I am writing to commend the Democratic Senator from my state, Jeff Bingaman, for his nay vote. Two weeks ago when Congress voted, the Democratic Congressman from our state, Tom Udall, also voted nay.

I have not considered New Mexico's Democratic Congressional delegation to be particularly progressive. But I am changing my opinion on that. Sure, Bingaman isn't currently up for re-election, but Tom Udall is running to replace Pete Domenici as our other Senator. So his nay vote was not without risk to his career.

I'm not often particularly proud to be a New Mexican (and we still have only a 40% Democratic Congressional delegation), but I am proud now. Viva la Revolucion!

Suzanne

Bonnie and I are watching a movie we got from Netflix. It's a very offbeat (and very well acted) film from Scottland called "Breaking the Waves."

We're on our second night of viewing this film. It isn't a fast moving thing and it takes some attention.

But here's the really cool part: I haven't heard the song "Suzanne" by Leonard Cohen in decades. I couldn't have told you it was by somebody named Leonard Cohen. In all likelihood you couldn't have either. But the song is simple, haunting and beautiful. It's beautiful in the way Donovan songs were. It's over there on the right side of this blog now for you to hear.

Is it familiar?

Story Telling

I've been back at my story writing again. Here's a link to the latest. It's just for my amusement. Let me know if it amuses you too.

I should note that any story I write here (or there) may or may not (most likely the latter) be complete. So if you find yourself scratching your head and going "huh?" when you finish a story, it's more than likely simply that it's just not finished yet. Then again, there is the distinct possibility that I just did a damn poor job of getting my story told, in which case I am merely deluded in the notion that the story is done.

FISA Evesdropping Bill

No they can't!

Congress can pass all the laws they want to. Our Constitution trumps their mealy-mouthed simpering capitulation to corporate greed, bribes and threats. I will not allow anyone in this illegal trumped up excuse for a government, Republican or Democrat, to take away my Fourth Amendment rights. Over your dead bodies. That is my promise.

No you can't.

The Shins - Phantom Limb

Im my early teens, an idiotic Beachboys-loving surfer dude stole my girlfriend. I thought Brian Wilson to be fatuous anyway, but that sealed the deal.

So I'm not sure just why I love this song.

But on the Lighter Side - Singaporean armpit sniffer gets jail and cane

It seems that repressive societies abound in pervisions. This includes "western" societies which have adopted a stiff-necked reserve in their advance of their economic prowess.

Read on...

Ireland - A Microcosm of People's Will

I don't pretend to understand European politics.

The EU (European Union) is attempting to ratify an EU constitution that will provide an EU president and an united military front. I'm certain this is a vastly naive oversimplification, but it the gist of what I have seen reported.

I am not going to attempt to speak to the good or ill of such a plan. However it seems to me that we are finding all around us today, and all over this blighted planet, an attempt to marginalize the voice of the people.

Ireland was the only one of 27 member states to put the concept of this constitution to a national referendum. All of the other 26 nations made, or are in the process of making, decisions without public involvement. "Representative" diplomats are making these decisions on their populaces' behalf.

EU member states who's spokespersons have promised fidelity to this plan are calling for the isolation of Ireland. They are foisting the idea that Ireland is a maverick state and should thus be shunned.

How odd though that the only member state who considered it proper to poll its own populace has become the only viable holdout on this plan (and are now being systematically marginalized). I wonder (as I am sure millions of European citizens are beginning to wonder as well), if this referendum were more universally applied, if the nay vote might resound en masse.

Tim Russert, Dead at 58 - the End of an Era

I don't often tear up at the death of a public figure. Not even at their untimely death. Public figures are larger than life, and when they die, their largess continues to fuel the lives they left behind.

A few years back, I learned of a co-worker's death several days after it occurred. He was on a job site in Ireland and collapsed and died of a sudden massive heart attack. He had been a good friend in what were hard times for me. And my daughter, Brandy, loved him dearly. So when I learned, in an almost casual fashion, that he had died, I was stunned and hurt, and I came very close to tears in a public forum.

The announcement today of Tim Russert's death (as I learned of it while at work listening on headphones to Randi Rhodes) elicited a similar response from me. I'm not sure why. I didn't know Tim. My daughter wasn't his buddy. But it somehow felt the same way.

And it's not just because Tim was a recurrent guest in our living room, on our television. There are many such guests (though mostly they are of the serious sort - more or less - not frivolous celebrities).

Maybe it's because on Sunday mornings, Bonnie watches Meet the Press almost religiously (rather than attending a church service), and I (like the prodigal husband amid the church-going), occasionally sit in as well, and watch and listen to Tim as he serves up his brand of confession.

Maybe that's why I equate his loss with my friend's. Or maybe it's that both were Irish Catholic, and I the great atheist, still find an affinity with Irish Catholics. Don't ask me why.

I will miss you Tim. Bonnie will miss you as well. And to my modest surprise, Brandy knew you too, and she will also miss you.

Into the Light

When I wrote the post below, last night, I was in a very dark place. No, I had my office light on; but my heart was dark.

I started out the evening with an unbroken, hour long rant. Poor Bonnie was my audience. When she finally announced that she could take no more and retreated to the bathtub, I proceeded here to continue the rant.

This morning, feeling marginally better about the world, I considered deleting the post I wrote last night. I decided against it because I had already received a comment and I didn't want to rudely wipe out that comment along with my post. And I also decided that I had made some salient points that needed making. I did, however, delete an identical post I placed on my Barack Obama blog.

Upon review, and in a better spirit now as I write this, I realize I said absolutely nothing in the previous post with which I now disagree. It's simply that I was writing in a state of despair last night, and while I think it's healthy for us to get in touch with our inner despair from time to time, we also need to examine things through the eyes of hope. And no, I am not going all Pollyanna on your ass. Hope is not, at least not necessarily, the equivalent of denial.

Pondering this today, I still seriously doubt we will ever regain the place we once held in this world. The key to that is the commercialization of our culture and the stupefying of our citizens. We have been molded as a society into the world's greatest consumers. We exist, the corporate Moguls have decided, to buy, BUY, BUY. And when our personal wealth dries up, as it is doing, it is our purpose to borrow, BORROW, BORROW, so we can continue BUYING.

Well it doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that this purchasing sponge of a nation is going to lose its capacity to soak up the crap that is marketed to us. The chickens have already started to come home to roost on our borrowing habits. And we ain't seen nothing yet. Consumer debt in this country is going to bankrupt half the population in the next few years. It's going to get really ugly folks. No question about it. It breaks my heart in so many ways. We're going to experience something our soft lives have ill prepared us for. You think we have poverty in this country now? Boy are you in for a shock.

Enough of the doom and gloom. It's real, but it may have a thin silver lining. I was thinking out loud the other day about how nations like Portugal, Italy and Spain used to practically rule the earth. These days only Italy, among the three, has any world standing at all. And Italy's place in the international community is pretty back-seat for all that. But not a one of these three countries is exactly some terrible poverty-stricken place. They are all relatively quiet and unassuming countries where folks get along (OK, other than the Basques in Spain), where they have national health care systems that provide adequate, if not spectacular, health care for their citizens. They're OK.

The United States started out as an unassuming agrarian society. Throwing off King George's yoke made us big shakes in Europe for a bit, but if you wanted sophisticated world-class society, you generally avoided the States. It really wasn't until the Second World War that the US gained the foothold we have come to assume as ours' ever since. So maybe, after the dust of poverty settles and we have picked ourselves back out of the ashes, we'll just, more or less, end up back where we started.

Hell, as we sift through the debris, we might even discover that old Constitution beneath the dust and ashes. And we may shake it off and re-read it. And who knows, we might even work really hard to educate the whole populace so they understand it this time. And we could become the new Portugal or Spain. We may even become an Italy. And it may all be for the better. We could go back to being farmers and furniture makers and just mind our own business.

And our grandchildren may honor us.

Change We Can Fantasize About

I finally got my Obama shirt in the mail yesterday.

I feel for Bonnie. I spent this whole evening haranguing her (and 99 percent of our culture) for our crimes against humanity. Every once in awhile, something snaps in me. I reach some maximum density of a sense-of-atrocity, and I enter into a meltdown. I did that tonight.

No. I guess it's been creeping up for a while. These things do. For instance, I have had my ear firmly placed against the cold (or often hot) train tracks for years now, and I recognized the face of this dollar/oil crisis months ago when it first started to gain public recognition as a new player on the stage. I knew it because its face has been described in detail for a long time if you knew where to look. This daemon is not the newcomer many in our culture imagine it to be.

In fact, our personal bogeyman, Osama Bin Laden, helped portend (and encouraged the hastening on the scene of) this monster. And yes, it will unquestionably be our downfall.

America's greatness was our Constitution and its recognition that all men are created equal. Note that 2/3-type people were not considered men, and certainly, neither were women. We had a partial solution to world peace and prosperity, but we forgot to include half the population along the lines of sex, and another 4/5ths along the lines of race. Our great promise to the world was never meant for more than one in ten.

And that, and the greed of those who saw ripe pickings in our depravity, has spelled our downfall.

We will never be great again.

Mr. Obama has my vote. I truly believe in his honesty and forthrightness. And I honestly accept that his visions, coupled with an active public, are what our country needs. But I don't believe for a moment, I am devastated to realize, that it will be nearly enough to return us to the place of moral authority, and of championing of the downtrodden, that we once held. The world has come to fear and despise us (not necessarily in that order), and they do so rightly.

Germany and Japan regained the world's trust after the second World War, by their nations' public contrition; by a national sense of shame and need for redemption. Germany occasionally makes our modern world nervous when neo-nazism starts to raise its ugly head. We remember too well how that country became evil personified.

Russia has failed to find any similar recompense in the world's eyes. Putin is a product of that country's lack of craving for atonement, not the cause of it.

I cannot see any societal yearning for redemption or sense of shame shaping America. I see pockets of it. I see strong pockets. But I don't see anything even approaching a public mood along those lines. I think Americans have lost the ability to even know that that is in order. We have forgotten our roots. We have forgotten the face of our fathers. Those who wish us to be gone from the earth are well within their rights.

STOP BUSH NOW!

How much longer can we continue to allow the madman in the White House to saber rattle and threaten countries who do not pose the harm he claims they do? This man must be stopped. Now. We will all be to blame if he attacks Iran. STOP HIM NOW.

McClellan's Been a-Tellin'

This is turning into a great week. Alright, I have to give the various former Presidential press secretaries their due when they complain of Scott McClellan's improprietous tell-all book. "He should have stepped down if he felt that way." "He should have waited until Bush was out of office." "He should have been more respectful." "Future Presidents may be less candid with their press secretaries."

Fine. Great points all. And thus, as John Dean, last night on Countdown stated, McClellan's future will forever be dogged.

But I really don't care how ol' Scotty goes down. I am, however, interested in the carnage he leaves behind. Yes, very interested.

And so is Congress. Congressman Robert Wexler (D-FL) has expressed a sincere interest in hauling McClellan in front of the House Judiciary Committee. McClellan was evasive in his response to Keith Olberman last night when pressed as to whether or not he would appear. I would think a subpoena would easily cure him of his hesitancy; any claim of Executive Privilege by the Whitewashed House would be meaningless at this point.

And Brian Williams, Katie Couric, Chris Matthews, and Jessica Yellin -- currently a CNN correspondent who covered the White House for ABC News and MSNBC in 2002 and 2003, have all come out on the heels of McClellan's revelations with revelations of their own. They are beginning to reveal how the White House and Pentagon both manipulated information to the public via the press, especially in the run up to war and in the early prosecution of the war.

All this after just two days of the news "cycle." I'm really hoping that this is merely a sneak peak into the future. I'm hoping and praying to see it all come crumbling down. Ultimately, I want to see Bush, Cheney and Rove in handcuffs, briefcases ineffectively poised to conceal their faces. That's a big step from where things stand now, but this latest bombshell may finally be the one that gets things going. And avalanches build up steam at alarming rates. So I continue to hope.

And it's not about revenge. It's about a nation built on the rule of law. As I heard someone mention yesterday, if Nixon had been prosecuted for his crimes, and if Reagan had been prosecuted for Iran-Contra, we might not have seen the brazen disregard for the law by this administration. So if these guys are not prosecuted in this round, what future abomination of an administration might our children be faced with? This isn't about politics. It's about the preservation of our nation.

Here is a salient and revealing Salon article worth reading.

New Blog - on Barack Obama's Site

I am posting on Barack Obama's site now. I have just one post to date. I will attempt to keep both blogs current.

Departed Gray Matter Too

Another Brick ... and a Wall

Busy has been the word.

This past month, since Bonnie and I returned from Hawaii, we have been busy.

Did I ever tell you how much I hate the word busy? I mean, it is used to pass off so many forgetfulness's ("I'm sorry I forgot about your birthday, I was busy," or "I know I said I'd get that done, but I've been busy."). And the very act of being busy is referred to as busy-ness, or as we normally spell (and pronounce) it: business. But business does not invoke the empty-handed excuse that merely being busy does. Does it?

Soliloquy aside, the month of April found Bonnie and me neck-deep in the business of home improvements (and yes Bonnie and me is correct language usage). More specifically, we have been working on yard improvements.

As a child I despised anything that related to yard work. My dad was a farmer and always had a vegetable garden going. And we had an acre of lawn, half of which was on an extremely steep hill, which needed mowing constantly (this was in Hawaii which is still in its first growing season {think about it}). We had weeds that, left unattended, would grow to heights rivaling the great sequoias. As the oldest son, it was my constant job to mow the lawn (wearing crampons to prevent my fall into the abyss below), weed the veggie garden, and wrestle down the marauding army of weeds. I was provided weekday reprieve from these tasks during the school year, but my summers were an endless stream of yard work. Naturally, I developed a black thumb. Plants die just for being in the same hemisphere that I am walking through.

Or at least that's how it used to be. Bonnie has changed that for me. Her unabashed love of all things growing has somehow magically finally rubbed off on me. I'm not sure when this happened, but ever since we bought our current house (a bit over three years ago), I just can't seem to get enough of yard improvement. This started out as landscape architecture of one form or another, but has evolved to include the actual planting and nurturing of those little (and large) green things themselves. As I was working the soil last weekend, I actually found myself pondering that I finally understood why people talk to their plants.

My black thumb has turned green! Bonnie still performs the lion's share of the plant care around the yard, but I have become an integral part of that work. And I create spaces for plantlife to display itself in.

So our April workload consisted of three components: 1) Increasing the back-yard wall height from 4 to 7 feet high, 2) nurturing our winter sleepers back to life and planting new life for this season, and 3) preparing and planting a vegetable garden.

Item 1 was the most work intensive of the above. In fact, not since the great deck I built in Oregon, and for which my abandonment thereof I have been often and severely chastised, have I put as much effort and expense into an outdoor project. I have, however, redeemed myself for having abandoned the aforementioned deck. This is truly a work of art of which I am proud. I have photos sprinkled here, but just sitting in our back yard is the best way to enjoy it. I built it of redwood and then painted it. That description says fence, but I call it a wall. And it looks nothing like a fence, though one of the hobbits next door told me last night that I had built a "handsom fence." She is about 85 years old, and is thus forgiven.

Our veggie garden is small. We may or may not expand it next year. We'll see how it works out this season. We planted cilantro, squash (two types I think), tomatoes (also two types), some bell peppers, jalapeno and serrano peppers, carrots, sweet peas, string beans (or some such), and one or two others that don't come to mind at the moment. I love watering this little patch of earth. We planted it just a week ago, so we haven't had to start weeding yet, but that will ensue before long. I can't wait for the harvest.

Bonnie's floral array is beautiful this year. I dont' know what else to say. The photos speak for themselves. I think our yard brings us our greatest joy. It looks like a place of endless relaxation. In fact, it is a place of endless endeavor, as that is what is required to maintain the appearance of a haven of escape. But we both love the work. In fact, we had planned on getting out today (it's 5:15 AM at the moment, so don't give me shit for wasting the day just yet), but decided last night that there were sufficient chores here in our yard to keep us busy today. Tomorrow is Mother's Day and that speaks for itself (though this deserves its own blog entry - origins of Mother's Day and all - not just a Hallmark/1-800-SendLotsofFlowers holiday).

As noted above, our biggest April project was my wall. Then there was Roger Waters' Wall. Brandy and I flew up to Denver on the last day of April and saw the old Pink Floyd minstral live on stage. What a show! Ten days later, I am still reliving moments of the performance. It was a father-daughter moment that I will cherish for many long years.

As we entered the arena, we were all admonished not to bring in cameras or other recording equipment. Of course everybody had cellphones, and none of these were disallowed. The audience was awash with glowing cellphone screens throughout the concert, as revelers sought to capture snippets of scene or song in their flash memory. I attempted this myself, but Brandy is a better photographer and has a better phone (my sacrifice to her gods). The concert photos here are courtesy Brandy.

No Country for Good Men

You know, I really don't mind that Hillary fights dirty. I just wish she wasn't so obviously a chameleon. I guess I should be glad that she has shown her true colors. Several months ago, I was ready to accept her, reasonably gladly, as our best hope. She has shown her stripes now. Now I know that a Hillary presidency would be a Bush presidency every bit as much as a McCain presidency would be.

Could anybody be more transparently fake? OK, bad question. Mitt Romney was much more obviously fake. The other twit from New York, what's his name, was nearly as bad. Hillary is fake in a more cleverly deceitful way (she had me fooled for months). I saw right through Romney and Whosis right away.

And she is going to fool bigoted Americans who fancy themselves Democrats and Liberals right into electing her president. Or lacking that, she's going to fool them into voting entirely against their own interests and voting in McSame just to satisfy their fears and hatreds. And she'll smile with robotic pretense, and wait four years.

People say they don't know Barak. But the truth is that Americans have no ability to judge character. The reasons are myriad. But the reality is unequivocal. We don't elect politicians with character because we couldn't identify character if our lives depended on it.

As may well be the case.

Phony as a 3-dollar bill

After the Pennsylvania vote, Hillary says, "the tide is turning."

That's kind of like cheating on a test and telling dirty lies about the best student in class, and then strutting about proudly when you get an A and the other student gets an A-minus.

Why Obama Can’t “Close the Deal”

There’s been a lot of talk this morning about why Barak Obama can’t make this nomination his. There is valid concern that even though Obama leads in delegates, he wins some races and loses some races, and this doesn’t bode well for a race against McCain.

Nobody that I have heard has been able to pronounce a plausible reason for this apparent weakness in his campaign. Some point to Hillary as being such a strong candidate. They suggest that both candidates are great candidates, and that people are just torn between two greats. Give me a break. Hillary Clinton has shown herself to be little better than McCain in her tactics and rhetoric. Yes, she comes off as intelligent and experienced. But she’s down to saber rattling to get hawk votes, and that is simply deplorable. While I think there are probably some moderate Democrats who approve of the hawk talk, this is likely to disaffect even more Democrats. And her continued determination to turn all things Obama into questions of patriotism, and questions about his character (a tactic very absent from Obama’s own campaign), shows a despicable side that Democrats have come to associate with Karl Rove. That certainly isn’t what is causing the vote to turn as often as not to her over Obama.

So what is the reason? I’m afraid that the answer is simple and that it’s insidious. America is racist. I’m not saying that all Americans are racist (I’m not, and many of us are not). But America herself is racist. We have racist institutions and a racist economy. Our schools reflect our racism. Our prisons reflect our racism. It’s reflected in the service industries and in the food processing industries. Unfortunately, racism is a steaming cancer at the core of our nation. I sympathize with Reverend Wright’s sentiments. Not because I hate America, but because America refuses to face up to this fact. We put window dressing all around the ugly outbreaks of this disease, and we pretend we have solved our racism. We even argue that affirmative action is no longer necessary (if it ever was) because racial inequality has been eradicated.

Barak Obama tried to address this a month ago when the Reverend Wright “story” broke. I put “story” in quotation marks because it wasn’t a story. It was a deliberately placed distraction. And it was itself, a play of that famous “race card.”

The Republican Party may openly underwrite racism, but it’s not a phenomenon limited to conservatives. I listen to liberal pundits on the radio fairly regularly, and the folks that call in to those shows are by and large liberal themselves. Yet I have heard them time and time again say that Obama shouldn’t run because “America isn’t ready to elect a black man President,” or even, “America will never elect a black man President.” I am beginning to worry that this may be true. But to state that as a reason for Obama not to run, is racist itself. Yet I’m sure those folks wouldn’t consider themselves racist. As I said, it is insidious. This morning on the Bill Press radio show, a caller actually suggested that Obama ought to accept Hillary's offer to "ride in the back of the bus." He was referring, of course, to Hillary's offer of the Veep position to Obama, but the expression was clearly racist. Bill Press not only did not chastise the caller for the expression, he repeated it himself!

Barak Obama is so much more a candidate than any I have had the opportunity to vote for in my lifetime. With regard to the state of American politics, this man is more honest than any viable Presidential candidate I have ever seen. Instead of fighting as dirty as Hillary, he attempts to raise the discussion. But Clinton and the media insist on pulling it back down into the dirt. And it’s not merely to destroy Obama, but much more importantly, it’s to destroy the vision. American politics as usual, and the corporate interests it serves, cannot afford to tolerate a vision of hope. They cannot allow people to control their own destinies. They have us all by the short hairs and that suits them just fine. Hillary is totally sold out to that reality, as surely as John McCain is. Obama is the only hope we have going. And any time his populist message begins to raise his numbers above the fray, all that is needed is a subtle reminder to our dark hearts that he is after all, black.

More Photos from Paradise

As promised, here are more photos from Bonnie's and my recent trip to Hawaii. Specifically, the photos below are all from our stay on the island of Kauai.

Sunrise, from our porch on our first morning. This photo has not been modified. But my heart was as I watched this unfold.

Looking across the property on which our little bungalow, "Taro Patch Hale," was located.

A small tributary stream of the Hanalei River, running adjacent to Taro Patch Hale's "yard."

White ginger. I remember the fragrance of these flowers as sweeter than perfume. Alas the loss of my sense of smell.

Also on the Taro Patch grounds, I don't know the name of these dainty blossoms.

Lichen on the trunk and branches of a plumeria tree.

A small sampling of our host's Zen hobby.

Our Taro Patch Hale accommodations.

A longer view of our "hotel."

Later that afternoon; Kiluea Point Lighthouse, a few miles East of Hanalei.

This is the trail Bonnie and I took on our second day on Kauai. The trail, after eleven arduous miles, finds its way to Kalalau Valley (see the last two photos below). We hiked just the first two miles to Hanakapiai Valley. The terrain you see here is a very good example of what this trail is like. Four miles (two each way) is a workout.

A view along the way of the world famous Na Pali Coast.

Another coastal view en route.

I wish I remembered the name of the orange flowered tree (Mary would remember). The foreground tree is named Lauhala.

And I don't know what this little guy's name is, nor if he is a native. But he sat so patiently for me, just a few feet away from my camera.

More mountain splendor along the Na Pali Coast.

These are wild orchids, just growing without fanfare along the edge of the trail.

At last, our first view of Hanakapiai beach.

A deceptively tame looking wave on Hanakapiai beach. With severe rip tides and undertows, these waters claim the lives of many who are foolish enough to enter them.

Wonderfully colored rocks at the mouth of the Hanakapiai Stream.

A sand piper strolls the white wash on the beach.

A red crested cardinal sitting in an ohia tree in Kokee, two days after our hike.

A view of Kalalau Valley from the lookout 4000 feet above sea level.

And one of the most photographed views in the world. This is the east side of Kalalau Valley from the same lookout. It is to this valley the trail we took two days earlier eventually leads. I completed the hike when I was 19. I would give my eyeteeth to hike it again.

Aloha.