Current Events Watch

Bill Clinton, at his 1993 inaugural address, said, “There is nothing wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America.” I wish that I still believed, but I’m not so sure anymore.

I miss Bill. And I miss my rose-colored glasses. Now I simply see red. All that George Bush and his band of cronies have wrought since setting foot in the Oval Office has led me to believe that perhaps there is very little left that is right with America.

Maybe there really wasn’t that much right to begin with, but I thought things were beginning to look up. As a nation we haven’t had such a stellar track record, of course, despite historical spin doctoring.

Near-extermination and subsequent oppression of the indigenous peoples? Yep, that was us … Manifest Destiny and all.

Atomic bomb attacks on civilian populations? Missions accomplished.

Stealing a page from the opponent’s playbook and interning American citizens to War Relocation Centers (”concentration camps” sounds so Nazi) because of their ethnicity? Caught red-handed.

Then, just when you think we might finally be making some forward progress, enter Bush to take the proverbial three steps back.

I hate Bush’s regressive America. Of course, to the thin-skinned patriots out there, using the words “hate” and “America” in the same sentence is nothing short of treasonous.

Anti-patriotic I am because I oppose an illegal war, a criminal administration, and am disgusted that our civil liberties are being flushed down the toilet.

“America, love it or leave it,” they say. Well, I may not necessarily love it right now, but leave it? Wherever else I might go, I could possibly become subject to current U.S. foreign policy, and I’ll have none of that! No thank you.

Look, I don’t hate America. It’s probably one of the best countries ever stolen. But we’re not necessarily the bee’s knees, either. And until we get back on the right track (kicking Bush’s sorry ass to the curb will be the first lost step regained), I’ll not be proudly waving Old Glory. Thank God the countdown has begun.

To end with another quote: “Let America realize that self-scrutiny is not treason. Self-examination is not disloyalty.” - Richard Cardinal Cushing

patriotism, george w. bush, american history, american presidents, 2008 election

Contrary to popular belief, vertical stripes are not necessarily slimming. Just look at this Huckabee family photo from the good ol’ gubernatorial days! Yikes. Even the inexplicable elbow patches don’t distract from the fattiness of this clan.

Of course Mike Huckabee has since become fit, trim, in shape and ready to participate in the 2008 presidential marathon. Don’t know about the rest of the ‘bee hive; they may very well still be strapping on the all-you-can-eat feedbags, but at least Mikey is certainly down to fighting weight. A big loser indeed (let’s hope.)

However, despite having lost some major inches and a pound or ton, there still remains a considerable amount of work to be done on that fat head of his.

After Pakistani opposition leader, democracy advocate and former prime minister Benazir Bhutto was assassinated and her supporters suicide-bombed to bits yesterday, Huckabee, after apologizing for what had happened (whoops!), went on to explain how this tragedy emphasizes the urgent need to continue fighting terrorism in Pakistan build a fence to stop Mexican immigrants from entering the United States.

Well, that certainly was a clutchless gear shift from first into reverse!

Asked what the hell a border fence between the U.S. and Mexico has to do with Bhutto or Pakistan, Huck said that security at the southern United States border was dangerously weak and that “we have more Pakistani illegals coming across our border than all other nationalities except those immediately south of the border.”

Not quite true according to the Department of Homeland Security, which claims far more illegal immigrants come from other countries. But regardless of such trivia, I still don’t quite get the correlation.

Nor did others, apparently, so he had some more ’splainin’ to do. That was, after all, quite a clumsy segue from the subject of Bhutto’s assassination to the Mejicano-Gringo border fence.

When further questioned, he said:

“The fact is the immigration issue is not so much about people coming to pick lettuce or make beds. It’s about people that can come with a shoulder fired missile and can do serious damage and harm to us, and that’s what we need to be worried about.”

What does building a fence from sea to shining sea betwixt the United States and Mexico (gated for lettuce pickers and bed makers, of course) have to do with keeping Pakistani shoulder-firing missile bearers at bay? And what connection can possibly be made between Bhutto’s assassination, which was, of course, the issue he was presumably addressing, and barricading our southern border?

The guy is an idiot. Thinner now, perhaps, but without question still fat-headed.

mike huckabee, benazir bhutto, bhutto assassination, immigration, border fence, presidential candidates, 2008 election

It’s the holiday season, and who doesn’t love Christmas? It is indeed the most wonderful time of the year!

I personally never hear sleigh bells ring no matter how closely I’m listenin’, nor do I roast chestnuts on a fire, open or otherwise.

Apparently some do, though, so in those respects I can only celebrate vicariously through others.

But that’s okay. I really don’t need jingling bells, one-horse open sleighs and such. Nope, I know the real reason for the season.

Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Of course the Lord of lords was not actually born on December 25th. Most likely a late summer or early fall baby, given the concurrent Roman censusing, farmer harvesting, and shepherd nighttime flock-watching. Activities not typically on the December to-do list.

I’d bet that at His age, Jesus probably doesn’t really care so much for birthday parties anyway, regardless of when celebrated. I know I don’t, and I’m still quite a young whippersnapper by comparison.

Commemorating the birth of Christ, however, remains important to us, His earthly disciples. Although a certain One may not particularly care to be reminded that He is not getting any younger, I’m sure He’s still appreciative. We all like to be the center of attention, after all, even if just for a day, whatever the occasion.

And with requisite celebratory gift-giving, thanks to that frankincense and myrrh thing, and since the really good sales don’t start until December, I’m sure He understands the need for the arbitrary date change. I mean, really, what’s a few months in the context of all eternity?

But not everyone has jumped on the manger bandwagon.

It’s hard to believe, I know, but there still exists a disturbingly high number of lost heathen souls in other parts of the world who refuse to appreciate or even acknowledge this holiest of days, set aside to reverently remember and honor the birth of the Savior. They’re all hell-bound, of course, unless they change their ways.

Fortunately, the missionary team of Mr. Garrison and Mr. Hand, hailing from South Park, Colorado, has heeded the call to spread the Good News to the rest of the world each December. Fishers of men, they are. Godspeed, brethren!

On such missions one must not pussyfoot around the Truth, so if you are easily offended by harsh conversion tactics consider yourself warned not to watch the following. Words are spoken that may be offensive to some.

However, sometimes dropping the “F Bomb” is the only way to show the pathway to true salvation. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Whatever it takes.

Hey, at least they haven’t resorted to waterboarding. Merry Christmas!

UPDATE: Speaking of the “F Bomb” I have to drop a big one on Viacom. The video clip I had here has “been removed due to copyright violation.” I’ll probably be receiving notice soon to also erase that DVD recording I made of the same episode. All righty then, you’ll still get the gist with this one. I guess as long as the characters don’t move, it’s all cool. Whatever. The song, though, remains the same …

christmas, south park, south park christmas, mr garrison, mr hand, merry christmas, youtube christmas

“Well, I think … if you are ever going to go destroy a country or wreak havoc on a country, it would need to be justified.”

These, the words of 28-year-old Jeremy Hinzman, ex-Army paratrooper formerly with the 82nd Airborne Division in Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

Carolinian no longer, he’s now hanging out in Toronto, Canada with his wife and kid after loading up the car and making the border-crossing road trip when his application for Conscientious Objector status was rejected by the U.S. military.

Joining the military in early 2001, he completed basic combat training and airborne school at Fort Benning in Georgia. It didn’t take him long to realize that he was participating in something that wasn’t quite right.

At Fort Benning, bayonet training featured this beaut of a chant:

Instructor: “What makes the grass grow?”

Trainees: “Blood, blood, blood!”

Jeremy started to think his enlistment probably wasn’t such a wise decision after all.

On to Fort Bragg, though, to complete his training. He was no slouch, by the way. Awarded the highly coveted expert infantry badge, given only to those who master dozens of tasks involving deadly military skills, he was admired by his superiors for his work ethic.

Then in January of 2002, along with his wife, he began attending meetings of the Religious Society of Friends. Quakers, whose Peace Testimony against participation in war, and against military service as combatants is a major principle.

His newly found pacifism and the birth of his son were among the reasons he cited for applying for Conscientious Objector status in August 2002. A little too late, perhaps, since his unit was deployed to Afghanistan shortly thereafter while his application was still under
consideration. And since his superior officers claimed to have no record of his application, he was ordered to go with.

So off they went, with Hinzman being assigned duty in a non-combat role there while the powers that be mulled over his request. After returning, he learned that his application had ultimately been denied and he was subsequently ordered to return to and serve again with his regular unit.

Then came the edict that it was time to pack the duffel bags once again, rack up some additional frequent flier miles, and head on over to Iraq, proliferating democracy.

Hence the family road trip, due north. A secret journey to avoid an illegal and controversial war, no doubt, since such blatant desertion is a felony punishable by death.

Really. Desertion and even disobedience carry the death penalty in a time of war. I kid you not.

Under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, 15 offenses can be punishable by death, though many of these crimes — such as desertion or disobeying a superior commissioned officer’s orders — carry the death penalty only in time of war.

So anyway, he applied for refugee status once on Canadian soil. I can’t say that I blame him. I wouldn’t be hankering to return stateside, either, all things considered!

Hinzman’s hearing was held in December of 2004.

The argument was made by him and his attorney that invading Iraq constituted a violation of international law, and that the subsequent occupation violates international human rights, as specified by the Geneva Convention.

They also argued that, in fact, his failure to refuse participation in such illegal activities would clearly be a breach of the Nuremberg Tribunal, turning Hinzman into a potential war criminal.

In March of 2005, Canada’s Immigration and Refugee Board determined that he was not a conscientious objector and was thus ineligible for refugee status.

Hinzman’s team challenged, but, alas, a year later in March of 2006, the Federal Court dismissed the request for a review of the previous year’s decision.

A last-ditch effort last month to appeal to the Supreme Court of Canada didn’t go so well, either. They refused to even hear the case.

Read Jeremy’s and other war deserters’ commentaries from 2005, about why they opted to hightail it to Canada in lieu of further participation in George W. Bush’s illegal bloodbath that is Iraq.

Of course, thousands of other soldiers have followed suit. These are troops I can unequivocally say that I truly support. What happens to them now that Canada seems to be in cahoots with Bushdom, I don’t know. Still, I admire their bravery and courage to take a stand against the atrocities of this administration. Heroes indeed.

iraq war, soldiers, troops, deserters, jeremy hinzman, anti-war, anti-bush, army deserters, george bush

I have a warrant out for my arrest. No kidding. The boys in blue actually showed up a few weeks ago to haul my felonious ass to the slammer. They did, however, acknowledged that they probably had better things to do, and let me off the hook with a stern directive to get to the police station post-haste. Payment of $300 bail would secure my continued freedom. (I never went. I hate being told what to do.)

This was due to my blatant disregard of an invitation from the local courthouse to visit with the Honorable Judge Wayne Cagle. I have since learned that this sort of no-show behavior is frowned upon, as attendance at such events is not considered optional.

All of this because my house needs a fresh coat of paint, and now the house judge isn’t very happy.

One of my stalkers (I have two; very popular, I am) sought revenge when I began dallying with another, and apparently thought that ringing up City Hall to file a paint complaint would be the best way to express his displeasure.

The house does need painting, I’ll admit, but I’ve seen worse. I’m hardly a criminal, just lazy. Nevertheless, a default judgement was rendered against me, and I’m now a fugitive from justice.

Seemingly lots of important cases on the courts’ dockets indeed! Judicial time well-spent. Okay, I know I should have shown up for my court appearance, but I was annoyed by the whole thing. Seemed so frivolous, and again, I don’t like being told what to do. Or when and where to do it.

Despite my less-than-objective opinion about my personal situation, true judicial lunacy really lives. Of course we’re all aware of that; we live in America, for goodness’ sake.

But we’re not alone in the world when it comes to WTF? court decisions. Take Italy for example. Case in point:

At least this couple duly showed up when summoned which, as I’ve learned, is a good thing. In hindsight, however, they may wish that they had opted to go on the lam instead.

Mara and Roberto Germano live in Genoa. Mara and Roberto had a baby boy. Mara and Roberto named and baptized the new addition Venerdi. Mara and Roberto were happy.

Unfortunately for the couple, city hall officials in Italy are obligated by law to report any unusual names to the appropriate authorities, and since “Venerdi” is Italian for “Friday,” well, given the oddity of the name, is it any wonder that the matter would end up before the Genoan panel of judges?

The law must be upheld, after all, and egregious names will simply not be tolerated, so the court date was set.

After no doubt much deliberation and legal research, the Venerdi verdict was administered. Judgement against the defendants. The child simply would not be allowed to go through life with a name that evoked the image of a savage, like the character Friday in Robinson Crusoe, “thus creating a sense of inferiority and failing to guarantee the boy the necessary decorum.”

The Germanos appealed, as might have been expected. Who wouldn’t? What they called the little tyke during the interim, I don’t know. Still, they waited.

Then last month the appeals court came to their decision. They stated that Venerdi falls into the category of the “ridiculous or shameful” names that are barred by law, and agreed that it recalled the native servant in Daniel Defoe’s novel.

They even stepped it up a notch. The judges wrote that naming the boy Venerdi would bar him from “serene interpersonal relationships” and would turn him into the “laughing stock of his group,” according to a report in La Repubblica this week.

Not only that, they said that even as a day of the week, savage imagery aside, Friday raises a “sentiment of sadness and penitence, when not being associated with bad luck outright.” Case closed.

Win some, lose some. The law is the law. But now, what to do? The kid was born in September of 2006, and more than a year later, are Mom and Dad really expected to have to dust off that book of baby names yet again?

Not to worry. The judges have that covered as well. It was court-ordered that the boy be named Gregorio, after the saint on whose day he was born. So that takes care of that.

Seems to me that there would be far more important things on both domestic and international dockets relating to matters somewhat more relevant than house paint or baby names.

But that’s just me, and I’m a defendant, so my opinion may be biased. I’d bet, though, that Mara, Roberto and little Gregorio would probably agree with me.

venerdi germano, mara germano, roberto germano, gregorio, baby name friday, italy, italian judges, robinson crusoe, germano baby

Philanthropic wordsmiths, take note! This is cool. John Breen, a computer programmer from Indiana who operates the Poverty.com website, has now also developed an online game that teaches vocabulary … and helps to fight world hunger at the same time.

It’s fun, it’s free, and it feeds. Not to mention that you’ll also pick up a few new words along the way with which to impress friends and family.

FreeRice.com is quickly becoming quite popular. Breen said the idea came to him one day in his kitchen while he was sitting with his two teenage sons, preparing for the SAT, when he decided, as he said, “to do something on the computer to help my son learn vocabulary words.”

It’s a simple multiple-choice game. You’re presented with a word and four possible definitions from which to choose. Get it right, and 20 grains of rice are donated to the U.N. World Food Programme. The U.N. then distributes the rice worldwide.

Pfffft, you say. Twenty grains? Well, pfffft yourself. They do add up. And quickly. The game is quite an addictive pastime, and before you know it, you’ll find that you have earned several thousands of grains to help feed some starving kid or family somewhere, and every little bit really does count.

Consider the fact that FreeRice.com is up to more than 8.2 billion grains of rice since Breen launched the site just this past October. That is more than enough to feed 325,000 people, according to the spokesperson for the World Food Programme.

Given my addictive personality, I’ve no doubt fed an entire village already. I can’t stop playing the game. Okay, so I have way too much free time on my hands, but at least I spend it well. Sometimes.

freerice.com, free rice, world hunger, word games, john breen, world food programme

If you and eight of your closest friends happen to fancy gang-raping ten-year-old girls, Australia is the must-see place to visit. Queensland and surrounding territories are particularly desirable since this lovely lady, the Honourable Judge Sarah Bradley, will be your ally if by some chance others might frown upon your prepubescent dalliances. Not to worry, Judge Sarah’s got your back.

She’s works for the Childrens Court of Queensland, after all, so she’s a pro when it comes to handling such kid things. There’s probably even some wiggle room with that age issue, too, in case ten isn’t your cup o’ tea. Eight, nine, eleven, twelve … you’re probably still good to go. Book your tickets now! You might even be able to find some sort of group discount deal if you shop around.

I’m being sarcastic, of course. Because seriously, this woman is a nut job. In October of this year, she really did let nine guys off the hook after raping a ten-year-old girl back in 2005 because, as she said in her ruling, the victim “probably agreed to have sex with all of you.” That’s some horny kid!

Sure, they got obligatory slaps on their wrists. Probation for the six who were legally minors at the time of the rape, and suspended sentences for the three adults. Bottom line is, the judge’s emancipation proclamation set them free to go forth and gang-bang at will that throng of nympho schoolgirls out there just begging for it. Take a number, guys, you’ll all get your turn.

The offenders came from some of the most powerful and prominent Aboriginal families in Cape York, while the victim’s family had a lower status, according to The Australian. Of course, I’m not implying that that had anything to do with the verdict whatsoever, just passing the information along as an interesting factoid.

Judge Bradley defended her sentencing, saying that the sentences were “appropriate” because they were the penalties sought by the prosecution. Uh, I don’t even know what to say about that. It’s just wrong on so many levels.

At least Australia’s Prime Minister Kevin Rudd has spoken out against the ruling, saying he was appalled. “I am horrified by cases like this, involving sexual violence against women and children. My attitude is one of zero tolerance,” he said.

As reported by the BBC, Boni Robertson, an Aboriginal activist, and Queensland Premier Anna Bligh, have also both expressed contempt for the verdict, saying that there could be no excuse for the judge’s decision. Robertson said, “There is nothing culturally, there is nothing morally, there is nothing socially and there is definitely nothing legally that would ever allow this sort of decision to be made.”

Premier Bligh has announced a review of all sentences given over the last two years in the region. “I am not prepared to just write this off as an unusual one-off case. I want to satisfy myself that the people of Cape York, and the people who live in remote indigenous communities, are receiving the same level of justice as we can expect in any other community in Queensland,” she said.

Meanwhile, boys, enjoy your time Down Under. Wink wink.

sarah bradley, australia rape, child rape, sexual abuse, child abuse, child sexual abuse, queensland rape

I’d bet money (if I had any) that schoolteacher Gillian Gibbons will probably think twice before deferring to her young and oh-so-naive pupils for the final decision at any future toy-naming ceremonies. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she drops this particular classroom activity from the curriculum altogether.

She tried it once, which I’m sure seemed like a good idea at the time, but quickly learned the hard way that those little rascals aren’t really so good at the name game. Student participation is not necessarily all it’s cracked up to be.

Of course, she’s the 54-year-old British teacher who left her teaching job in Liverpool last August to hop on a plane, destination Sudan, in order to teach in Khartoum. According to her MySpace page, she does like to travel, after all!

I assume things were going well, until that recent and most unfortunate lightbulb moment: What better way to teach a flock of seven-year-olds about animals and their habitats than to appoint a classroom mascot representative of the wild kingdom? And all kids love teddy bears, Liverpoolian and Khartoumian alike! Bingo. Idea “spot-on”, as they say in jolly old England.

So she picked up the stuffed and cuddly toy and presented the new mascot to the class, without introduction, of course, since the bear was theretofore nameless. That’s when the kids got to play Name That Bear and things began to go terribly awry. With an overwhelming majority of votes, the winning name was (drumroll, please) … Mohammed! Uh oh.

Classmates began taking turns bringing the teddy bear home, accompanied by a diary with the bear’s name written in the front of it. Parents were none too pleased, to say the least, and reported the blasphemy to the proper religious authorities.

Although there is no outright ban in the Koran on images of the Prophet Mohammed, likenesses are considered highly offensive by Muslims. As an aside, if a teddy bear indeed resembles the holy prophet, no wonder they might want to keep that little secret to themselves.

So Ms. Gibbons was hauled off to prison last Sunday to await trial after being convicted of inciting religious hatred for letting her pupils name the teddy bear Mohammed. Even though the kids had actually named the teddy after one of their most popular fellow classmates (Mohammeds run rampant in Islamic circles, coming in at number one on the list of most popular baby boy names), that alibi simply held no water.

Pre-trial incarceration wasn’t, I’m sure, Ms. Gibbons’ only concern. Knowing that the maximum penalty for her crime could very well be imprisonment for up to six months and an appointment with the whipmaster for some 40 duly administered lashes, there was undoubtedly much anxiety.

Wisely, she opted to humbly approach the bench and apologize for her blasphemous behavior. Sanity reigned and she was granted lash-amnesty, and sentenced to only 15 days in a Sudanese prison. Cool. Of course, she’ll then have to leave the country, never to return again, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be a problem.

Then, today, just when you thought the matter was resolved, leave it to the radical Islamic masses to step it up a notch. Apparently the Sudanese at large aren’t so happy with the sentence, and so thousands, many armed with clubs, knives and axes, streamed out of their respective mosques after Friday sermons and rallied in Central Martyrs Square outside the presidential palace, demanding her execution.

Not just a lashing, mind you, but full-on execution! Even managed to recruit a fleet of pickup trucks with loudspeakers, blaring rebel-rousing messages against Gibbons.

Reported chants of choice: “No tolerance!” “Execution!” “Kill her, kill her by firing squad!” You get the picture. Clearly, they were not pleased with the verdict.

Gibbons was, of course, swiftly whisked away from the prison for her own safety, to serve her final nine days of imprisonment in an apparently undisclosed location. Hopefully she’ll make it home soon, and intact.

Yet another fine example of radical religious fanatacism. I’m sure that there are millions of Muslims who are wincing once again at the behavior of their step-brethren. Kind of like I wince when the black sheep of my universal Christian family act up. Just remember, whatever spiritual family you belong to, there are those certain members that you sometimes simply must disown.

islam, muslims, mohammed, muhammad, mohamed, gillian gibbons, british teacher, teddy bear, sudan, khartoum, radical islam, religious extremists

Remember Iranian President Ahmadinejad’s recent homily and Q&A campus-session at Columbia University? Mahmoud delivered quite the performance for students and faculty. Crazy people can be entertaining. If nothing else, his much-publicized dissertation almost makes fellow world leader George Bush appear to be somewhat sane, rational and levelheaded. Almost. Okay, nah, that might be too much of a stretch. Never mind.

Crazy, yes, but Mahmoud also showed that he has a knack for comedy as well. From time to time, his inner stand-up comic could not be suppressed and would blurt a zany one-liner, much to the delight of the audience. There were several similarly noteable comedic moments, but this classic gem is the one that certainly garnered the most media attention. From the transcript:

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: In Iran, we don’t have homosexuals like in your country. (Laughter.) We don’t have that in our country. (Booing.) In Iran, we do not have this phenomenon. I don’t know who’s told you that we have it. (Laughter.)

The crowd laughed, heckled, and then laughed some more. If this presidential gig doesn’t work out as planned, there will always be open mike night at the Laugh Factory. One should always have something to fall back on.

But seriously, folks …

Of course the remark was laughable because of its absolute absurdity. Right? Sorry, Mahmoud, you might want to rethink some of your material. Sometimes the audience is laughing at you, not with you. On second thought, could it possibly be true that there really is no gaiety in Iran? Well, after further investigation, it turns out he was right! He wasn’t just being a wisecracker, pulling the audience’s collective leg, after all. Nope, there really are no homosexuals in Iran. At least none amongst the living. And if a rogue flamer does perchance pop up from time to time, that offender is dealt with in short order and punished. Capitally.

Yep, Iran is indeed a gay-free zone. No joke.

During a peace conference in May between the Iranian and British parliamentaries, Mohsen Yahyavi, a high ranking Iranian politician, for the first time acknowledged that Iran’s sentence for homosexuality is the death penalty. Public hanging is apparently the method of choice.

In the meeting, Yahyavi, when questioned about the reports, responded that “gays deserve to be executed or tortured and possibly both” because, of course, Islam forbids homosexuality. So there you have it. Hang ‘em high, and Allah bless Iran! Kind of makes the radical Christian competition on this side of the pond (e.g., Fred Phelps and his band of “God Hates Fags” loonies) seem like a bunch of wusses, huh?

Well, I’ll certainly be cancelling my reservation at the Tehran Hilton, that’s for sure! Allah forbid I might get caught ogling some Middle Eastern hottie passerby. Next stop, the gallows. Not quite what I had on the agenda. And that Mahmoud stand-up routine I was hoping to catch while in town probably wouldn’t have been so funny after all, all things considered.

By the way, these two teenagers were convicted of homosexuality by Iranian authorities and subsequently, well, dealt with accordingly. I find this image very, very disturbing.

iran, ahmadinejad, homosexuality, yahyavi, gay execution