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Friday, July 29, 2005

UnPatriotic libs vs. UnAmerican cons

I thought this was kind of funny and interesting. According to Michelle Malkin

The liberals who snort and stamp whenever their patriotism is questioned have no problem challenging the loyalty of those who simply want the World Trade Center site to remain sacred ground. Huffs the Times:

[T]his is not really a campaign about money or space. It is a campaign about political purity - about how people remember 9/11 and about how we choose to read its aftermath, including the Iraq war. On their Web site, www.takebackthememorial.org, critics of the cultural plan at ground zero offer a resolution called Campaign America. It says that ground zero must contain no facilities “that house controversial debate, dialogue, artistic impressions, or exhibits referring to extraneous historical events.” This, to us, sounds un-American.

The Take Back The Memorial response is here.

All I’ll add is that a newspaper dumb enough to publish editorials like this one in a post-9/11 world has some nerve lecturing anyone else about a “sense of proportion”–let alone about what’s “un-American.”

The UPC was started, in part, because conservatives were saying liberals were traitors and liberals were saying conservatives were evil. Some of our regular readers might remember this scale, and that UPC members pledged to stay green.

Red - Has declared liberals are traitors or treasonous.
Orange - Has declared that they despise/dislike liberals, but no mention of the T word.
Green - Has denounced the “liberals are traitors or treasonous” meme.

Red - Has declared conservatives are evil.
Orange - Has declared that they despise/dislike conservatives, but no mention of the E word.
Green - Has denounced the “conservatives are evil” meme.

So now we have a nice variation on the theme. Some conservatives are saying the 911 memorial is being taken over by UnPatriotic Americans, whereas others are saying the people making that claim are being UnAmerican Americans. Am I wrong to feel silly euphoria over all this? Is it funny or am I just weird?

Thursday, July 28, 2005

American Muslim issue a "fatwa" against terrorism!

Hat tip to Powerline for this Yahoo article:

An excerpt:

Top U.S. Muslim scholars issued a “fatwa,” or religious edict, against terrorism on Thursday and called on Muslims to help authorities fight the scourge of militant violence.

The fatwa was part of efforts by U.S. Muslims to counter perceived links between Islam and terrorism and avert any negative backlash after this month’s bombings by suspected Islamic extremists in London and Egypt.

“Having our religious scholars side by side with our community leaders leaves no room for anybody to suggest that Islam and Muslims condone or support any forms or acts of terrorism,” said Esam Omeish, president of the Muslim American Society, one of the groups which announced the fatwa.

Ibrahim Hooper, spokesperson for the Council on American-Islamic Relations, said it was the first time Muslims in North America had issued an anti-terrorism edict, although they had repeatedly condemned such acts of violence.

This is wonderful. This is what so many Americans have hoped for, begged for, demanded, and need. You can group people by nationality, religion, ethnicity, gender, sexual preference, whatever, but in the war on terror the best way to divide them is this:

1. Savage homicidal maniacs.
2. Civilized people who enable savage homicidal maniacs.
3. Civilized people who are enemies of savage homicidal maniacs.

This group of American Muslims has just gone from group 2 to group 3, and we, (and by “we” I mean ALL people in groups 2 and 3, are better off for it.)

(unfortunate) UPDATE:
Steven Emerson of the Counter terrorism Blog thinks it is a fake fatwa.
He makes some excellent points, including the following:

Nowhere does it condemn the Islamic extremism ideology that has spawned Islamic terrorism. It does not renounce nor even acknowledge the existence of an Islamic jihadist culture that has permeated mosques and young Muslims around the world. It does not renounce Jihad let alone admit that it has been used to justify Islamic terrorist acts. It does not condemn by name any Islamic group or leader. In short, it is a fake fatwa designed merely to deceive the American public into believing that these groups are moderate. In fact, officials of both organizations have been directly linked to and associated with Islamic terrorist groups and Islamic extremist organizations. One of them is an unindicted co-conspirator in a current terrorist case; another previous member was a financier to Al-Qaeda.

I spoke with Judea Pearl, father of murdered journalist Daniel Pearl who told me that the fatwa was “vacuous because it does not name the perpetrators of Islamic terrorist theologies and leaders of Islamic movements like Yousef Al Qaradawi, Osama Bin Laden, Ayman Al Zawahari, Hamas, Islamic Jihad, etc.” Pearl told me that these groups are “trying to perpetrate a deception on the American public.”

I think Emerson overstates his case. If this fatwa helps a single American Muslim choose to reject terrorism, then it is a good thing. In fact, the simple absence of rhetoric justifying or excusing or rationalising terror, alone, is a victory. So any fatwa that rejects terrorism is a step forward. Maybe the fatwa isn’t as strong as Emerson would like, but it should be celebrated regardless.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Great Post of the Day regards Roberts SCOTUS candidacy

The key is that Bush has used the Democrats' opposition to his district and circuit-court judicial appointments against them and made it a ratification of the Roberts candidacy. Simply put, by choosing a judge whom the Democrats confirmed unanimously when he was nominated for the D.C. Circuit Court — and whom they did not filibuster — Bush has made the Democrats impotent.

The Democrats thought they were preparing for the Supreme Court battle when they hit on their strategy of filibustering Bush's judicial nominations. They saw these battles as spring training to get them in shape for the real fight that would come when Bush made his Supreme Court nomination.

Instead, their strategy has backfired massively. By lending such a high profile to their opposition to Bush's lower-court appointments, the Democrats have effectively denied themselves the ability to filibuster anyone of whom they have approved in the past.

When the Democrats singled out certain of Bush's appointees to the courts for filibusters and strident opposition, they, in effect, gave their seal of approval to those whom they did not filibuster. Their silence is like the classic case in Sherlock Holmes of the dog that didn't bark.


Ebert sucks. Again.

I knew it. The man who gave Old School 1 Star, and Napoleon Dynamite 1.5 Stars, gave Wedding Crashers 2 Stars.

Idiot. A long time ago I saw a woman on Oprah, or some such show, and Oprah's guest was the cast of A Fish Called Wanda. A woman in the audience stood and said "I don't get British humor" into Oprah's mic. The cast sat, slightly nonplussed, while the woman waited for a response. How do you respond to such an assertion? If you don't get something you don't get it- and if it has to be explained you won't get it. (I don't actually remember the response, btw.)

I thought the woman was rude (why attend an Oprah show filled with people who made a movie you don't get?) but I appreciated that she knew her limitations. She didn't say British humor was unfunny- she said she didn't get it.

Ebert simply doesn't get Old School, nor Napoleon Dynamite, nor Wedding Crashers, nor Fight Club. There is a common thread here, obviously. These are the movies which resonate with X-and-later-generation males. These are movies they view repeatedly, quote incessantly, and, for better or worse, indentify with on some level Ebert simply does not have.

Maybe you had to grow up watching Caddyshack and Animal House over and over on video or on HBO to get the X-gen male movies. Maybe you have to be disgusted by PC culture in general. I'm not saying it is Ebert's fault he doesn't "get" these movies, but it is certainly his fault that he doesn't recognize he, not the movies, is the problem.

If Ebert didn't "get" British humor I'm sure he would change, recuse himself from reviewing movies that featured it, or at the very least try to appreciate British humor for what it is. But when it comes to the movies listed above he does none of these things. Rather he writes the same sorts of reviews, all of which attack these movies for not doing things well that they never intended to do at all. Or worse yet, (see the Napoleon Dynamite review linked above) for thinking a movie does the exact opposite of what it does.

Ebert sucks.

Click Here for the first "Ebert Sucks."

If Osama's dead he's rolling in his grave.

Just as mobility through the application of maritime technology was the foundation of Britain's seapower, so is America's based on the ability to freely traverse the oceans -- and now the great land spaces -- of the world. Not by itself, but in consequence: by threatening the areas of weakest governance, organizations like Al Qaeda have driven those beleaguered states into the arms of the only power with means and mobility to come to their assistance. It would be the supreme irony if radical Islam's lasting contribution to history turned out to be the establishment of a global American power. Without the rise of radical Islamism and the collapse of Soviet authority in Central Asia, there would have been no case for a US presence.


Read the whole thing at The Belmont Club.

The latest liberal Iraq memes

are well represented by UPC'ers Shamanic and Fester.

1. That the US is going to pull all but 70,000 troops out of Iraq over the next year.

2. That this should be characterized as "cutting and running."


Liberals have been saying it was a mistake to go into Iraq since we went there. Now that there are some CONDITIONAL (the condition is that Iraq is able to sustain itself with fewer US troops, btw) plans to have less troops in Iraq they are say pissed off that we are leaving. How can you "cut and run" while leaving 70k men somewhere?

This is characterizing success as failure. It reminds me of how liberals used to claim the Cold War ended despite Reagan's bumbling, rather than because of Reagan's leadership.

The disconnect between left and right grows apace.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

These guys SHOULD have CAIR's legitimacy, dammit.

Clown Excerpt 2

When I got back to work, William, that’s my boss at this law firm I’m talking about, he asked me to help move Abbey’s desk. Abbey’s pretty too. Actually she’s not all that pretty, but she has this insane ass. I’m not really a buttocks guy, I’m a waist/stomach guy, but you probably know what I mean.

Unless you’re a woman. If you are I’m sorry for the offense, but you probably know how men are about these types of things. I mean even gentlemen.

Anyway I’m putting her files away and I’d said hello to her and everything, she’s cool, and she was doing her thing. It was just her and me there. The other secretary pods in that area were empty. Then William comes up with a couple electrician guys in their blue cover-alls and says:

“Hi Abbey. These guys are here to fix the computer. Could you let them take a look under your desk?”

I guess it was the way he phrased it. It even kind of rhymes with:

Could you let them take a look under your dress?

He didn’t mean it that way, I don’t think, but maybe he did because he’s super smart and he’s dry like that. All four of us guys kind of chuckle and then check it toot quick.

Me especially, ‘cause I’d GUFFAWED all stupid and loud. It is already pretty bad. Then Abbey is cool about it. She doesn’t get mad or say anything. She just kind of ignores it and moves away from the desk.

But she’s sexy and young and she’s the only woman there. If there were other women around it wouldn’t be this gang bang feeling like we all just bullied her and shit. Like the end of Saturday Night Fever when they gang banged the girl who wanted Tony. I once masturbated to that scene and then felt like shit for a week.

You already feel guilty masturbating and then you put the rape feeling on top of that and it really feels horrible. That was when I was relatively new to masturbating, though. I know better now.

Anyway Abbey is being all, she’s all fucking cool about it even though we were shits, so it is way fucking worse.

If she was one of these PC women I would have been kind of glad, like a little kid. I still would have felt guilty, but I wouldn’t have felt like shit. I’m serious. I felt like shit. There’s nothing you can do about it either, but feel like shit. You can’t make it go away or talk yourself out of it.
You just have to wait for it to go away itself. The fact that you know you just have to wait, and that you don’t know how long you’re going to feel this bad, makes you feel almost as bad as what you originally felt bad about.

It only last like ten minutes, though. Those guys got on their knees and fiddled for a minute and then quickly left. Neither of them said a word, and I don’t blame them.

William said: “Bye, Abbey. Hey, thanks.”

Which could have been just polite whatever, or could have been a reference to what he said. I finished her files and left without saying anything.

I should have said good bye to her. The whole thing might have been blown over if I’d said goodbye. Instead now we’ll have that awkwardness between us, just sitting there. I see like Siamese twins who are connected at the hip by about a basketball sized piece of flesh that bridges them. Then some doctor puts one clamp as near to the body of each twin as possible. So the flesh basketball dies because it doesn’t get any blood. Then the doctor dies, so no one can cut the flesh away from them.

That’s what’s between Abbey and I now, this basketball size piece of dead flesh. And it will be there until I see her again and apologize. But now I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.

If I’d just fucking relaxed and been cool and said goodbye there wouldn’t have been a basketball. But that’s one of my faults. I get down on myself and then I sweat the small stuff. They have a book at that firm called “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff at Work.” I never read it.

Click here to read Clown Excert 1- The One About The Racist On The Bus and Such

How does the pathology of Serbian Christians relate to Priam’s daughter Cassandra, and W.H. Auden?

The Belmont Club is a great blog. Imagine a mind as a television. Most of our brains are compartmentalized like a plasma television- millions of individual pixels each contain just a smidgeon of information- they all act separately but the edges blur at a distance- The Belmont Club’s author, Wretchard, has a different kind of brain. His is like an LCD television- a sea of crystals floating in a goldfish bowl. (Bear with me- I’m buying a television and just talked to the dude at Sear’s yesterday.)

Because Wretchard’s brain lacks the usual number of compartments he makes weird things relate well. Cassandra is a good example. The title of the post is the Cassandra of Greek myth. The subject of the post is how multiculturalism relates to Islamist terrorism, and the end of post is a poem by W.H. Auden.

Sometimes I just “get” Wretchard and sometimes, frankly, I need to read one of his posts over and over before I feel the click. But I always feel it because Wretchard doesn’t cheat. And, even when I disagree with him, I appreciate the way he’s led my mind to create new paths betwixt previously unfamiliar compartments.

Monday, July 25, 2005

You are in the presence of genius.

There's a word for it!!!

The Chocolate Wars

Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory vs. Gene Wilder's Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory vs. Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

In short: Roald Dahl wrote it, Gene Wilder owned it, and Tim Burton flubbed it.

In long:

The setup: I reread the book a few nights ago, after I saw Burton’s version. I watched Gene Wilder’s version maybe two weeks ago. Roald Dahl’s novel Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was published in 1967. Gene Wilder’s version, from 1971, is called Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory because they were using it as a vehicle to introduce Wonka bars- which it turned out were made to melt on the shelf, not even in your hand, much less your mouth, and so were quickly discontinued. (HAH!!!) Burton’s version- well, you know about that.

As a child I never cared for the book, though I read James and the Giant Peach maybe 5 trillion times and every single Roald Dahl book at least once, including the one about the dad teaching his son how to poach pheasants, and the short story book where a writer picks up a hitchhiker in his Beemer, both of which you’ve probably never heard of because either:

A. you weren’t one of those kids who would walk to school and then hide out under that big tree on the hill and read all day pausing only to watch kids play during recess or to get lunch in the cafeteria-


B. I only THINK Roald Dahl wrote those books. (I refuse to check. I don’t want to ruin the cherished memories if he didn’t write them.)

As an adult I STILL don’t care for the book. It is the suck.

As a child Wilider’s version of the movie freaked me out to the extent that I could never remember the movie itself, only the fear it generated. Likewise, I read The Shining when I was 10, and I could never remember what happened until I reread it when I was 15. All I remembered of The Shining was that at one point my parents were out bowling, I had the TV on, both our (outside dogs) black lab and collie mutt flanking me, the soundtrack to Star Wars blaring on my parents record player, and that I was huddled in a corner of the living room that gave the dogs long lines of sight while hiding me from being seen through any windows. I can remember NOTHING of Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, which I suppose means it scared me MORE than The Shining. (I know I saw it, btw, because my parents have told me so.)

As an adult I LOVE the movie. I loved Wilder’s version of Wonka- I love the Satan-ish bad guy (who is really only tempting the kids because Wonka tells him to and does not exist in the book) I love the Oompah Loompahs for their nifty dance moves and clever lyrics “You’ll get no- You’ll get no- You’ll get noooooo commercials!”

Depp’s version of Wonka is okay. It might even be good if you didn’t compare it to Wonka’s, er, I mean Wilder’s. (I left that mistake in to show how totally Gene owned the part) But- as for Burton's movie- no… No it is the suck. It is the suck the suck the suck. The Oompah Loompahs are clones- they are all the same guy- and that guy is not some uber talented dude who dances and sings unbelievably well- a newly discovered great singing and dancing talent or something, he’s just a short thesuck actor who can neither dance nor sing. So Burton decides to turn the tribe of Oompah Loompahs into a tribe of clones- no males or females, and then to use special effects to try to make them seem the size they are supposed to be according to the book (knee-high). But if you are going to use special effects to make them small why pick a dude with a dwarfish build? Why not pick a bunch of super beautiful, graceful, talented singer/dancers? Why not have the cast of Fame, you know? And then, why- aw… there is too much. The movie is the suck. The suck the suck the suck. Burton blew it.

Gene Wilder kung phoos both Dahl and Burton with single blows. In the fight off for second Dahl guillotines Burton, choking him senseless.

I'm back.

From my 2 week vacation. I was supposed to have incredible pictures of Hanakapiai and Hanakoa falls, sweeping vistas of the Na Pali coast and Kalalau Valley, etc. Instead, all I can offer is the inside of our condo, which I painted and fixed up.

The wife somehow convinced me to spend my two week vacation doing home improvement. I am not a man. I'm a panty wrapped around my wife's pinky. I am content.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

The Professor


“That’s the problem,” professor Ella Kestine said. “It isn’t so much on the outside as the inside. It isn’t the world you face in your everyday life- it is the world you have created inside yourself, the world you have probably never faced.”

Professor Kestine was not a static speaker. It was unusual for a professor to walk around in a survey class, but she always did. She regularly left the raised stage and paced the rising steps of the auditorium so that every one of her fifty-three listeners would turn their heads to follow her. And she scanned the room, kept eye contact at all times, nearly dared them to NOT pay attention. She used every trick in the book to keep her students interested, listening, learning.

Now she picked up the heavy course textbook, dramatically lifted it over her head, and slammed it down on the stage.

The THWACK made people jerk in their seats.

“Pay attention now,” she said. “Now, if at no other time in this class. Or at this University. The problem is NOT the outside world you face in your everyday life. The problem is the inner world you have created for yourself, which you have probably never faced at all. Which 99.999 percent of the people on this planet never will face. This is what shapes your perceptions. This is the world that tells you what the outside world IS.”

She had them now. This was the stuff. They were part of that .0001 percent, or they could be, if they paid attention.

“I’m not talking about whether my dress is black,” Professor Kestine continued. “We can all agree on that, we can trust this basic perception. I’m talking about value judgments. When someone says something is good they are saying it is good compared to something else. That is a judgment shaped by their inner world, not a reflection of reality. When another says something is bad, that is, again, a reflection of what is inside them, not what’s outside of them.”

As she scanned the rows of seated students, she knew from experience who would probably come to her after class, and who would make sure they took her class next semester. The fat girl with the earnest face, there, and the pretty but confused one a few rows back from her would probably visit. The angry young man who sat in the front and sneered all the time would probably ask for a word as well. But these were the easy ones, the marks. The tough ones, the ones who would possibly be worth something to her after a few years, were the uncertain ones. There was little use in preaching to the choir if you were preaching that people should not believe in something. She wanted people who were able to believe with passion. She wanted to create a vacuum she could fill, not talk to people who were incapable of believing in anything. Cynics were no use to anyone.

“What is the difference between liberalism and conservatism? Both philosophies see the world the same way, or nearly enough in the same way, but they make different, opposing judgments, about value. A liberal, because of their inner nature, sees the faults in a society and therefore wants to make change. That is the simple definition of liberal. A conservative, because of their inner world, does not see these faults, and therefore fears change.”

She had to tread softly now. A semester’s worth of patiently going around this idea, of reinforcing it, of selecting certain facts and figures to prep their pliable minds to agree with what she was about to say would tend the seeds she planted now.. Still, she had to go softly.

“Regardless of what you believe now, it is your inner world that has made you believe it. Maybe you are a conservative by today‘s standards, maybe you are a liberal, but regardless, you must give the liberal mindset credit.”

She took a breath and checked the crowd. Was the timing right? Bluntly telling a group of young people that their country was an evil blight on the world would not do. Telling them that the better people generally thought their country was bad did not work either. But telling them that people who loved their country were ignorant, cowardly, and/or jingoistic was very effective, as long as you worded it right.

“The conservative loves who they are and has no motivation to fight, to change, to progress, to improve. The liberal is able to love the dream. To love who they COULD BE, what their country COULD be, and so has the courage, the crazy courage, to hate who they are. And through that hate they find the necessary motivation to fight. To change. To progress. To improve.”

She picked the textbook up from the floor where she had left it, held it high over her head, and slammed it down again. Nobody jumped or jerked this time. They were enrapt.

“Three thousand years ago a man named Moses brought Ten Commandments down from a mountain and said these were the law. He was a liberal. He hated what the Jews were and wanted to change them, to make them better. When the conservatives of that time tried to ignore those laws Moses threw his tablets onto the ground just as I have done with that book! Two thousand years ago another Jew named Jesus said the Roman world was wrong, that the Pharisees, the conservatives of the Jewish world, were wrong, that the Jews who went along with it all were wrong, and the conservatives of the time crucified him for hating the world and trying to make it better.”

There were over two months left in the semester before the summer hiatus. She estimated that as many as one fifth of the students she was speaking to today, would see their families in an entirely different way over the break.

“You must face YOUR inner world and shape it. You must create it. I’m not telling you to be liberal or conservative. I’m not asking you to make judgments about the outside world you face every day. I want you to face the inner world you have never seen, and decide what that world is, and if it is what it should be. And I dare you to have the courage, if you can first have the strength to acknowledge that it is not what it should be, to change it.”

Their parents would seem ignorant because they lacked education, or else willfully ignorant because they were greedy. Wicked. And if they argued, the kids would be immune to whatever was said because, by that time, they would identify themselves as elites due to their political beliefs. Nothing they were told would matter because anyone who disagreed with them was not important, obviously, since they disagreed with them.

“Thank you.” Nearly all the students clapped, and for a moment she thought she might get an ovation. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the applause died off and kids began to awkwardly shuffle out. But some stayed, trying to grasp what she had said, or simply staring at her with appreciation. Passion was a rare thing in a survey class, and these children had just seen a lot of passion. Many of them appreciated and had been moved by it. (A few looked at her as if they hated her. There were a few like that in every class. She didn’t understand them.)

It was difficult to teach people virtue. You could not simply tell them the truth. First you had to make them available for it. You had to make a hole. You had to batter their hearts. And this survey class of fifty-eight, five of whom had not shown up, would produce ten or fifteen people who were ready to begin the journey. And maybe one or two of them would continue down the road until they were ready for real instruction.

Friday, July 08, 2005

The Arguments I Hate Part 2

Over at the UPC, in the comments section of this post, (which is well worth reading) I was told:

  1. Don’t naively assume that the United States does not practice its own double-tap policy. With the possible exception of the Jimmy Carter administration, the US has never been particularly reluctant to engage in assinations. We are just more hypocritical about it than the Brits. Conversely, don’t presume that MI5 will hessitate to snatch you in the middle of the night and secretly detain you in order to shove a red hot poker up your arse. When push comes to shove everybody plays for keeps.

    Comment by Libertas — July 8, 2005 @ 8:05 pm

To which I replied:

Yeah Libertas, but don’t YOU naively assume that the world is not controlled by Jews using mind rays from their LEO satellites.

Sorry, but I don’t believe in these conspiracy theories. I mean anybody can say “You’re naive if you don’t accept PROVIDE CYNICAL THEORY WITH NO PROOF HERE.”

I don’t see the difference between your suggestion and saying Israel committed 911, or that there are engines that run off water that the oil interests are stopping from becoming public, etc.

Sans proof, sans evidence, sans anything except a blanket accusation of naivete for anyone who does not accept your proclamations of faith, I have to assume kookery.


And I thought that it was worth its own post. Don't you hate the "You're naive if you don't agree that X" argument? I hate it. You can even break it down farther.

"You're Y if you don't agree that X."

Where Y = dumb, mean, uncool, greedy, racist, bigoted, ignorant, ugly, short and so on
and X = zionists caused 911, Bush is a Hitlermonkey, Iraq is a mistake, Jews drink Arab baby's blood in Satanic rituals, Ferenheit 411 is Truth, and so on.

Click here for Arguments I Hate Part 1

"London can take it."

Brave words, and their context in history is well expressed here and here. Excerpts:

LONDON can take it. That's what they said - our parents and our grandparents - when the murderous bullies of another age were attempting to bomb them into submission.
When the maimed and the dead were being pulled from the rubble, and the survivors were meant to curl up and surrender.
London can take it.


Mr Blair was told of the carnage at Gleneagles at about 9.0am. Before flying to London by helicopter to attend a meeting of the Cobra emergency committee, he said on behalf of G8 leaders: "We condemn utterly these barbaric attacks. We will not allow violence to change our societies or stop this summit."
Singapore, where on Wednesday London won the bid to host the 2012 Olympics, London Mayor Ken Livingstone told the bombers: "However many you kill, you will fail."


Like everybody else, I admire the way Londoners have handled these attacks. As Andrew Sullivan said, stoicism is not an American virtue, but it IS an English virtue. The English are saying the right things. What I don't like is what is NOT being said.

"We condemn utterly these barbaric attacks. We will not allow violence to change our societies or stop this summit."

Mr. Blair, they aren't trying to change your society or stop the G8 summit. Changing your society was not the goal of these attacks. Al Qaeda had such grand ambitions before you helped the US turn Afghanistan and Iraq into democracies. They had such ambitions before Egypt, Pakistan, and Saudi Arabia started killing and jailing Al Qaeda members rather than tolerating them or covertly encouraging them- before the Cedar Revolution hotties and the Purple fingers.

Now Al Qaeda just wants some space to breathe. They fear their ideology of hate cannot compete against the alternative you have presented in Iraq. They are right.

Their goal now is to get Britain out of Iraq. Their goal now is to get you to abandon Mr. Bush.

911 was the terrorists attempt to change your society. That attempt failed because you and Mr. Bush MADE it fail. Make this attempt fail as well, Mr. Blair. The surest way to prevent another attack in London is to send MORE troops to Iraq.

UPDATE- Cernig, in the post below this one, (click here if you are not on the UPC site) writes:

We must not be bullied into stifling debate. We must be free, still, to discuss whether involvement in Iraq is being conducted properly, whether the wider war in terror is being wages competently, whether sacrifices of personal freedom for the sake of that war are worthwhile. We cannot let the terrorists railroad us into the worst form of cowardice - giving up that which makes us free. For that would be the ultimate defeat. It would play into their hands by making the schisms in our modern, pluralistic world even wider and more exploitable.

I agree, and I’m tempted to modify my post- to edit out the last sentence. I’ll leave it, but with Cernig’s point noted.

Q? When is terrorism NOT terrorism?

From LGF

Britain’s The Sun Online presents a graphic showing Islamic terror attacks since 1993—and totally ignores the multiple atrocities in Israel that have maimed and killed thousands of civilians. (Hat tip: Ethel.)

When the victims are Jewish. Well- I mean come on... They ARE hook-nosed, semi-human Christ-killing, sacrificed baby's blood drinking Nazis, after all. I mean they ARE Jews, right? Jewish babies don't count.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

"High Five!" and "F#^%!"

The cowards who planted the bombs in London are probably glued to their Made-in-Infidel-em computers, hoping for a certain kind of reaction. They probably read Galloway's remarks:

We urge the government to remove people in this country from harms way, as the Spanish government acted to remove its people from harm, by ending the occupation of Iraq and by turning its full attention to the development of a real solution to the wider conflicts in the Middle East.


But then they might have made the mistake of going over to Andrew Sullivan's site only to find this:

"And if, as your MO indicates, you're an al-Qaeda group, then you're out of your tiny minds.
Because if this is a message to Tony Blair, we've got news for you. We don't much like our government ourselves, or what they do in our name. But, listen very clearly. We'll deal with that ourselves. We're
London, and we've got our own way of doing things, and it doesn't involve tossing bombs around where innocent people are going about their lives.
And that's because we're better than you. Everyone is better than you. Our city works. We rather like it. And we're going to go about our lives. We're going to take care of the lives you ruined. And then we're going to work. And we're going down the pub.
So you can pack up your bombs, put them in your arseholes, and get the fuck out of our city."


Then they head over to the Democratic Underground.

. . . well, we all saw this happening...as long as Blair and Bush continue their war crimes, this will continue. They are responsible for everything evil that occurs as a result of their immoral illegal war. God help the people who get caught in the middle of Bush/Blair insanity.

"HIGH FIVE!!!" But wait a moment- heading over to Europhobia they find:

17:30 - Blair statement - "I've just attended a meeting of the government's emergency committee... there will be announcements as soon as possible... there will of course now be the most intense police and emergency service action to make sure we bring those responsible to justice. I would also like to pay tribute to the stoicism and resilience of the people of London, who have responded in a way that is typical of them... {The terrorists] are trying to use the slaughter of innocent people to cow us, to stop us from doing what we want to do... the should not and will not succeed... When they try to intimidate us they will not intimidate us. When they try to change our way of life it will not be changed. WHen they try to divide us they will not succeed and our resolve will hold firm... Our values will long outlast theirs. The purpose of terrorism is to terrorise people. And we will not be terrorised... THis is a very sad day for the British people, but we will hold true to the British way of life."


For reassurance they head over to the Daily Kos, and are not disappointed.

THE PRESIDENT: "We are fighting these terrorists with our military in Afghanistan and Iraq and beyond so we do not have to face them in the streets of our own cities."

Well, that didn't work out quite as planned, did it?


The first rule regarding a public statement after a terrorist attack is:

The second rule:

Not everyone abides by this rule. So now we get to hear about how Bush is responsible for this because we went to war in Iraq. As if Fortress America, or Fortress Britannia, or Fortress West, or Fortress Civilization, was ever feasible. Now we get to hear the tired argument about how, while we didn't DESERVE it, exactly, we really sort of did because of our own actions. Keep in mind, when you hear this argument, that today's argument- "because of Iraq" was "because of Israel" or "because of Colonialism," or "because of disparities of wealth" or "because of (write loony crap here)" after 911.

I hope the UPC, and other methodologies meant to bring left and right together for civil disagreement, will survive this. Tony Blair said- "When they try to divide us they will not succeed and our resolve will hold firm..." I hope he is right, but I fear it is wishful thinking. Those who opposed the war in Iraq will oppose it more firmly, those for it will support it more fervently, and it will be that much harder to agree to disagree.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Another fake hate crime-sort of

It turns out this was just an honest mistake. Click here to read a description of what actually happened. An excerpt:

The student said he placed the book and other fire-damaged materials in a bag and left the bag at the Islamic Center with a note, which apparently blew away.

Okay, now click here to read Michelle Malkin's description of what people were saying when the bag was found. Below are two excerpts with some of my own comments:

Excerpt 1:

The Washington-based Council on American-Islamic Relations issued an immediate press release on June 16 calling for "Americans of all faiths to obtain and read the Quran after burned copies of Islam's revealed text were found" in a shopping bag at the front door of the Islamic Center of Blacksburg.

That seems fair enough to me. Not. If one idiot burns a Quran then Christians, Buddhists, Jainists, Pagans, Mormons- Americans of ALL faiths, should read the Quran? Wow. Using that logic, Americans of all faiths, including Muslims, of course, should be reading the Bible, er, regularly. (I was going to write "religiously" lol.) Why should they? Click here for one reason. And here for another. The best part is- your taxpayer dollars funded that artwork!

Excerpt 2:

Al-Qatami [Laila Al-Qatami, a spokeswoman for the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee in Washington] invoked the Guantanamo Bay bogeyman and blamed the burnt Koran incident on insensitive, ignorant Americans. The case, she asserted, was caused by "a lack of zero tolerance for hate crimes and 'a lack of information about Arabs and Islam as a whole.'" Al-Qatami also told the Roanoake Time: "Let's face it, books don't burn themselves and end up outside of a mosque. It's a willful act."

Whoa. The incident then was not caused by some lone idiot most Americans would be embarrassed to claim as our own, but by America itself! It was, in fact, a result of government policy and old fashioned American Ignorance and Insensitivity! America sucks!!! Oh wait, it didn't happen. Does that mean America is okay? That America is the home of the Knowledgeable and Sensitive? Of course not.

How shall grievance-mongers, (as Malkin dubs them) Muslim and otherwise, have their way without their grievances? For them, there is no question about whether or not Muslims are victims of religious bigotry, racism (I know it makes no sense but that doesn't stop people from making the claim, even one of my fellow UPC pundits is guilty of doing it), xenophobia, et cetera. Grievances are a grievance mongers reson d’etre, after all. But why does the press go along with it? As Malkin says:

The grievance-mongers' continued failure to act responsibly and with due skepticism when these cases arise is expected. But the mainstream media's failure to put its America-bashing instincts in check is intolerable.

The problem is so much of the msm is run by modern liberal grievance mongers. (That may be a tautology , I know. But I don’t want to get into that whole mess right now, mmkay?) MSM reporters are willing to believe claims that America is at fault- that Americans are ignoramuses, bigots, and so on- and that minorities in America are victims. Those same reporters distrust the US government, the US military, and anybody who does not share their grievance monger ideology. The result is an American public increasingly mistrustful of the MSM, increasingly wary of groups that claim to exist to protect civil rights, and increasingly cynical of all do-gooders.

Thank God!

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Clown Excerpt 1

Used to be I’d lay in bed all day if I didn’t have to go to work or school. Now I’m up immediately. I mean my days off ARE work days now. What kind of an asshole figures his own time, the time he controls, is the best time to do nothing? The asshole I was.

What a fucking jerk off.

And don’t think these tendencies I degrade myself about are gone, vanquished, by the way. They’re still there, oh yes. That’s why I denounce them so strongly. They’re there, just wondering what the problem is, and why this particular glitch in the program is taking so long to get corrected.

So now I’m up right away. Day off, so I do take a super long shower. I love long showers. Then I’m out of the house immediately. Sometimes I’m halfway to the bus stop before I realize I don’t even know where I want to go, but that’s cool, as long as I’m out of the house.

This was one of those days. I’m sitting by the bus stop that takes me downtown, wondering what the hell to do once I get downtown. I dig window shopping and all, but it isn’t exactly productive.

I think about going to the 24 hour fitness in West Seattle. I like that gym a lot, and they have these tanning coffins that are real good to think in, but I don’t want tot work out. It is my day off. Working out is too much like work.

Eventually I just jumped on the bus. Fuck it.

And I go to the back just out of habit. There was nobody on the bus except the driver and this guy in the back I’m going to talk about.

There’s one of these wild-looking big white dudes back there. The short, unwashed hair. The crazy-huge night-black curly beard. The eyes that, even when the guy’s not pissed, show the whites all the way around the pupils. These guys freak me out way more than scary black dudes.

Scary black dudes know white dudes just want to be left alone. Scary white dudes think, because you’re white, maybe you want to talk with them. And I’m one of these people, weird-ass funkheads ALWAYS want to talk to me. And I get a lot of good out of that, usually.
But I hate it when these huge crackers want to talk to me. I didn’t look up and see him until it was too late to take a seat nearer the front without being obvious, so I just sat. Sometimes if you act all gigged out the fragged-heads will leave you alone. I was going to bust out with some gibberish, just in case, just as a preventive measure, and then this guys busts out:

“You know why Shawn Kemp didn’t go to the Olympics?”

And I sit there and don’t reply until it is ridiculous. I mean he knows I know he’s talking to me, and he knows I know that. The tension is causing my stomach to hurt and I’m getting this little flood of adrenaline so I look up, smile, and shake my head.

“‘Cause he’s an Oaktown n------.”

Motherfucker. That’s all I need to hear, you know? You get on the bus, minding your own business, and some asshole busts out that random shit for no particular reason.

And what am I supposed to do, here? I can’t do anything to him, even if I was the kind of guy who would. But my generation isn’t really supposed to tolerate that shit. This dude’s like 40, I guess.

If he was 70 it wouldn’t bother me. He’s 70. Who am I to judge some 70 year old who never even knew what a fucking computer was until he was 50? I mean a 70 year old is like a pilgrim who time just surrounds so that he’s in a new, strange world every 10 years or so.

But this fuck’s 40. He knows what’s going on. By using that word around me he’s saying I’m an ass like him or that I’m an ass for NOT being like him and so he’ll fuck with me. I’m not the kind of person who just pretends shit doesn’t bother me.

I know when something bothers me. I know when someone’s fucking with me. I don’t duck my head into the sand and pretend something’s no big deal because that would make things easier. But I don’t know what to do with this greasy dude and his diction.

Then he goes: “I’m from Oakland. Born and raised.”

And now I’m wondering if my planet and Superman’s Bizarro world planet are colliding and me or this guy got knocked off one and over to the other.

What in the FUCK does that signify???

And then I had one of the great moments in my life. Steve Martin flashed into my head, wearing brown baggy cast-off clothes and sitting on the porch of a Mississippi shack, and I stand up and go:

“Sir, I AM A N------!!!” Which I think is the right quote. I’m just quoting from The Jerk, in case you don’t get it. It was classic. This dude’s jaw drops.

And the bus driver goes: “What’s going on back there?”

So then I say to this dude: “Where are all the white women at?”

That’s from Blazing Saddles. And he’s looking like he’s going to knock me. He always looks like he’s going to knock somebody, that’s his look, but now he looks like he’s going to knock ME. It is personal.

Except I’m not really there anymore. I’ve kind of let go. I let loose some steam valve and it isn’t going to stop whistling for a while. I’ve become performer and audience.

I go: “‘Scuse me while I whip this out,” and mime taking a piece of paper out of pants. “By the power vested in me... by the honorable something J., LaPedume...”

And this big block of leather hit me so quick and so hard that I didn’t wake up for like ten minutes. That’s a guess. I didn’t wake up ‘till the cops woke me up. They wanted me to go to the hospital and shit.

The crazy psycho guy was gone. I don’t know if they ever caught him. I don’t know what the bus driver told the cops. All I do know is that, eventually, they let me alone.

I walked for nearly an hour, except at times I ran. I couldn’t outrun it, so I finally went over a parking lot to the back of this building where nobody could see me and bawled like a baby for ten or fifteen minutes.

When you’re bawling, bawling, for ten minutes, that’s like ten years. You have to have a lot of crazy shit inside you to bawl for ten fucking minutes. Part of me knew I was fucked up, really fucked up, way before all that happened. But there was no doubt after that.

I guess it was my body’s way of letting me know. The thing is, so what? Just ‘cause you know, that doesn’t mean you can do anything about it. When it was over, it was over. I felt the way I think a concussion feels... Like my head was full of helium. Thoughts were in there, but they floated in this weird seaweed that lived in the air of my head... airweed?

I was pretty tired. I walked to the nearest bus stop. A bus came. I got on. I waited to feel better. It didn’t happen. When I was a kid crying always made me feel better. It was like each tear physically ripped an hour of sadness out.

I realized that didn’t work anymore and had this little inner dialogue:

-So what’s the point of crying??? So somebody will help? Nobody helps you if you cry when you’re an adult. So why? Because I wanted to be a kid again? Because...
Then this other voice jumps in:
-Shut the fuck up. Who cares why?
-I care why. It might be important.
-The only reason it would be important is if the explanation helped you to stop being so weak. You’re weak because you are fascinated by your weakness so you play these mind games with yourself. Just shut the fuck up and stop being such a bitch.
“Fuck you!” Yeah, I said that aloud.

Not good. Not fucking good. There were eight or nine people on the bus, towards the front, and one of them just glanced back. I was in the back, in the freak section, but I had yelled it too loud, with too much force.

I was really starting to get scared. My theory on the homeless crazy dude you see on the corner is that we’re all just not quite exactly where he is in his life.

Not everybody. Not, like, school teachers. Or, like, union electricians. I mean there are some people who just want to live normal lives. They just get a safe job and a safe spouse and a cheap house and live lives of quiet complacency.

These are the humble, gray people. But the people like me, the quietly desperate ones, the hustlers and artists and owners of their own businesses and stuff, we’re all just barely NOT that dude on the corner explaining to the committee why Plato’s theory about absolute truth does not make an argument for the possibility of a real Utopia.

We’re all that near Nut-Ball. I’m telling you. It isn’t just me. I just know what is going on better than most people. We’re all almost there.

Once, back in Hawaii, I did a double hit of E, Ecstasy, and it wasn’t all MDMA. It was partly speed. And it turned out that each hit was a double hit. So after about thirty minutes in the club my skin started throbbing to the bass.

This girl named Ghia was using her nails to caress my head just right. Ghia looked like Erica Bhadu and she was better at touching somebody on E than anybody I ever met. Except this time it is too much, even though she is just barely barely barely caressing my scalp.

I ask her to stop. She’s kind of bummed ‘cause I was really into her touching me and she was cool like that. Then the couch we’re sitting on starts conducting the bass of the techno we're listening to too strongly, so that my skin is vibrating to the bass. It almost hurts.

And I’m so fucking tired all of a sudden. And I don’t know what is going on. And the lights are painful to my eyes, and my eardrums have swelled and they’re too tight for my ear holes.
I told Ghia I had to get out of the club for a second. Standing up kind of helped me catch my breath. I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s party. If I was going to vomit or die I wanted to do it alone where nobody would notice, instead.

Outside, I felt a little better. The streetlights were bright as little suns, and the sidewalk cracks weren’t bigger, but they seemed very important. Very real. I leaned up against the wall of the club and chilled. It wasn’t a busy night, there was noone outside except for me and this huge Samoan bouncer.

He eyed me a little. I could tell he knew I was on E and hurting. You never know with bouncers. This dude might have been eyeing me to help me if I needed it, or to fuck with me ‘cause I was so vulnerable. Bouncers can be like Nazis. They start thinking they’re so superior to all the drunk or drugged up customers that they forget they’re human beings and start enjoying hurting people. So I slunk off.

I turned the corner and went into an alley and slid down the wall until I was sitting. My breathing grew labored from trying to get my wind. It was like running up stairs.

I put my hand to my chest and realized my heart hurt. It was beating three or four times every second.. The blood didn’t have time to go through any of the heart valves before the next beat. It hit me I was probably going to die.

That didn’t matter for a few seconds, but then I realized it might be important so I should concentrate on that idea. But I wasn’t sure if I should concentrate on it or not. In the end I decided I would, but it could have gone either way.

Once I started thinking about it it was easy to keep thinking about it. After a bit I realized it was definitely important, then I realized death was permanent, then I realized I was alone, then I finally got very scared. Once I was scared enough, I was able to calm myself down. So I didn’t die.

The next day I told a friend who’s a dealer, Mike, about it, and he says:

“That’s what happens to people some times. Mostly they’re able to control their bodies once they’re scared enough. Otherwise somebody’s got to smoke them out, or they die.”

‘Smoke them out’ mean give them marijuana, to calm them down chemically.

Nobody was there to calm me down because I’d slunk off to hide my shame. When you read about somebody overdosing in the paper or see it on the news, there’s always a part of you that thinks the guy who O.D.’ed is a whole other animal from you. You could never be that kind of junkie/loser/cursed person.

But we are all almost there. We are all that it-can-go-either-way-almost-casual-decision-to-concentrate-moment away from an over dose. If not an overdose than a D.U.I. charge. Or a back flip off the diving board that ends up with pieces of brain floating down through the chlorinated blue.

(You know what I mean unless you’re one of the gray people. To be honest, I don’t know if the gray people really exist. Maybe they’re just really great actors and their smugness and complacency is an act. I hope so. If you’re one of the gray people you’re reading this with a smug smile on your face or a feeling of superiority. You’re a fucking asshole. Fuck you.
Yeah, I might be jealous, but I still wouldn’t trade with you.)

We are all that close to that kind of tragedy even though we all usually believe we’re not. And we’re all closer to being that homeless dude than we think, too. So when I said “Fuck you!” it kind of made me scared and I sort of woke up. I got off at the next stop, because I was ashamed, and waited for another bus. Because I was ashamed.

Back when I slept all the time it was usually because I didn’t have anything better to do, or else because I was depressed. Sometimes the feeling that you are a complete loser and useful to nobody and nothing is so strong and deep and pervading that sleep is all that can make you stop feeling it. Sometimes you feel like the air you breathe is accusing you.

That’s how I felt. I felt tired and used up. I crossed the street to wait for a bus that would take me back home. While I waited I realized it had been a while since I’d been so low that I had to sleep it away. It actually cheered me up a bit, so that I thought maybe I could push this depression away. I tried, I thought really hard about crossing the street again. But I was just too tired. I was going to try again but the bus came.

On the bus I ended up with my head down in my hands and my elbows on my knees. Tears just kept falling out onto my palms. I didn’t even feel that sad. I was mostly scared somebody would ask me if I was okay. Nobody did, thank God.

Monday, July 04, 2005


1. Last night I went to Mana to watch the drag races and they played the national anthem and I was one of a very few spectators who stood, hand over heart, in silence. That’s Hawaii for you. The demographic at the dragstrip was probably equivalent to that of a Nascar event, but I can’t imagine mainland Nascar-ians being so disrespectful. Having said that, I bet a lot of people in the stands are veterans- local people join the military in huge numbers- and (other things being equal) any veteran who chooses to drink his beer and fart during the anthem is more patriotic than a non-veteran who employs reverent posture before sporting events.

2. Click here for an excellent piece about the Declaration of Independence’s context. Excerpts:

What is often forgotten by Americans is that this Declaration alone did not make the American Colonies into a nation. Signed during a time of war, the Declaration of Independence was a public statement that a new nation was emerging if only in the hearts and minds of its’ people.

Contrary to popular belief, the Declaration of Independence was not a formal signing of policy for a new nation but a brave, avant garde attempt to establish revolutionary government.

let us remember the courage inked into every word of the Declaration of Independence. Let us not forget the sacrifices made to stand against British rule and that had the Revolutionary War been lost, that the fifty-six men who signed the document would have been guilty of treason. That crime was punishable by death.

3. Powerline has an interesting essay, THE ETERNAL MEANING OF INDEPENDENCE DAY , the best part of which is the following excerpt from a Calvin Coolidge speech:

About the Declaration there is a finality that is exceedingly restful. It is often asserted that the world has made a great deal of progress since 1776, that we have had new thoughts and new experiences which have given us a great advance over the people of that day, and that we may therefore very well discard their conclusions for something more modern. But that reasoning can not be applied to this great charter. If all men are created equal, that is final. If they are endowed with inalienable rights, that is final. If governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed, that is final. No advance, no progress can be made beyond these propositions. If anyone wishes to deny their truth or their soundness, the only direction in which he can proceed historically is not forward, but backward toward the time when there was no equality, no rights of the individual, no rule of the people. Those who wish to proceed in that direction can not lay claim to progress. They are reactionary. Their ideas are not more modern, but more ancient, than those of the Revolutionary fathers.

Excuse my French, but that is the fucking money! Click here to read Coolidge’s entire speech.

4.Nasa blew up a comet causing a fantastic explosion. Coincidence? I think not. Serendipity? Maybe.

5. Iowahawk features a Special July 4 Guest Commentary by Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi, entitled STOP QUESTIONING MY PATRIOTISM. Click here to read it. An excerpt:

If nothing else, the Fourth of July should prompt all Americans, whether they are an infidel fornicating whore-woman in a Miami strip club or a fresh-faced enlistee in a secret Prague martyr cell, to reflect on the true meaning of ‘patriotism.’ To me, patriotism is not some empty flag-waving gesture, or spouting jingoistic slogans. To me, dissent is the real patriotism. And what could be more patriotic than the ultimate in dissent – bloody jihad against the kufr and their heretic puppets in Baghdad?

Iowahawk is one funny mofo.

6. This link about General Washington shows how crazy it was for the signers to sign. It is kind of a miracle that they, and therefore we, won the war.


Saturday, July 02, 2005

More Kauai Photoblogging.

Went to the Hoike on the... 29th? of last month... or something. Anyway, super cute keiki (kids), some older really talented dancers, etc.. They were all there. I missed most of the great shots because my camera batteries ran out... bummed. Sorry. The way blogger does these pic is kinda weird. But if you want to see a pic click on it again and it will expand on your compter so can catch the details etc.

I can tranfer stuff from my 90's video camera to a dvd with my dvd recorder and from there to my computer, but I don't know how to upload to the net in such a way that y'all could download it. Maybe I'll learn that today...

When I do figure it out I'll have some great footage of cat vs. dog Brazlian jiu jitsu and some great Tahitian and Hawaiian dance.

Friday, July 01, 2005

The Arguments I Hate Part 1

"Who benefits?"
This is something many liberals ask when they seek to foist a conspiracy theory upon an unsuspecting (and/or trapped) listener.
"Who benefits?"

"Who really caused 911? You want to know the answer? Well, who benefits?"
(Israel, Bush, Neo-cons, Republicans, Skull and Bones, Industrial Military Complex, Corporations, Big Oil, Them!)
"Aids? You want to know the REAL STORY behind it? Well, who benefits?"
(Republicans, Conservatives, Medical Industry, Big Business, Corporations, Them!)
"Pearl Harbor. You want to know if we had warning or not? Who benefited from the LACK of warning?"
(Military Industrial Complex, Big Business, THEM)
"Afghanistan. Who benefits?"
(Big Oil, Corporations etc.)

Let's switch it up a bit and try some ad absurdum.
School shootings- who benefits?
Anti-gun groups, so anti-gun groups cause school shootings.
Car jackings- who benefits?
Car makers, because the owners have to buy new cars. So Chrysler is hiring car jackers to steal cars.
Fat kids- who benefits?
Atkins!!! Atkins causes obesity so they can sell their diet to fix it!!!
Who benefits from drunken driving fatalities?
MADD- they make their money off donations when people die because of drunk driving!
And, since I always take my arguments too far- here's the "too far" argument for the day:
Slavery- who benefits?
Black groups trying to get slave reparations. So Jesse Jackson caused slavery!


Fellow UPC'er Cerning points out, correctly, that conspiracy theories and the "who benefits" argument are not exclusive to the left. Okay, okay. (Being a member of a multi-partisan blog means you need to be careful about tossing out labels and being mentally sloppy in general. That's why I like it but it can be annoying. Ugh.)