Charlie's Dad

On the first of this month President Barack Obama spoke from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point announcing his "new" strategy for the current occupation of Afghanistan. I add the quotation marks due to the fact that his proposal to send 30,000 more troops into that beleaguered country quickly, accomplish what they haven't been able to get done in the last eight years within 18 months, and then begin to bring our troops home (only if conditions on the ground warrant it, mind you), about a year and a half before the next Presidential election, was widely leaked beforehand. And I call our operations in Afghanistan an occupation rather than a war, because that is exactly what it is. We won the war in that country way back in 2001, and have occupied Afghanistan ever since, although we've failed to subjugate it.
I've voiced in an earlier post (see, Afghanistan) my views on this subject. Briefly my position is that we've done enough in Afghanistan, chasing a dispirited Al Qaeda out of the country and into the desolate and mountainous border region between Afghanistan and Pakistan, effectively neutralizing them. The troop escalation therefore is intended to deal with the Taliban, not Al Qaeda (which is being dealt with by utilizing drone attacks directed by the CIA, rather than the military) in what is essentially a civil war, one in which we find ourselves defending a corrupt and ineffective regime. I believe we should bring our troops home now (not one soldier should die attempting to defend the Karzai regime), and that we should direct whatever efforts we can toward stabilizing the tenuous situation in Pakistan, which of course is a nuclear power.
It would seem that others agree with me... at least about bringing our troops home.
On December first and the day before, while in the middle of my morning 73 count Burpee exercise workout routine, while listening to the tail end of The Bill Press Show, Bill mentioned a protest march scheduled for the evening of the 2nd, at nearby MacArthur Park, sponsored by my local Progressive Talk radio station, KTLK, 11.50 in my FM dial, the very same station that allowed me to listen to Bill's show in the first place. Bill directed me to the KTLK web-site for more information.
There was no information whatsoever on the KTLK web-site concerning the proposed march. But thanks to Bill I was aware of it. How he found out about it I'll probably never know. Perhaps he has some inside information. Thank you Bill for sharing.
I decided to participate. It's not like I was doing anything else on that lonely Wednesday evening.
Accordingly, on the evening of the 2nd of December, at about half way through the Countdown Show with Keith Olbermann, or 5:30 Pacific Standard Time for you non-political addicts, I left the warm security of my box, grabbed the 18 bus to the downtown area of Los Angeles, dug a tunnel underground to the Red Line subway, which transfered me within minutes to the MacArthur Park Station, right near the corner of Wilshire and Alvarado.
It has been getting dark by 5:00 PM as the nights lengthen approaching the Winter solstice. The skies were clear, the temperature a tad chilly. On the north west corner of Wilshire and Alvarado I spotted a small group of people holding up signs gathered together, who I presumed to be fellow protesters. I joined them.
We were an odd assorted lot. Mostly middle aged individuals like myself, about evenly mixed between male and female. Some grizzled veteran's with long hair and beards held a large sign, stating "Veteran's for Peace." Other's held smaller, similar signs denouncing to President's proposed escalation of troops, some quite colorful. Others held up-ended paper bags decorated with peace signs, with flashlights within illuminating light outward. Others held simple candles.
I stood around taking it all in. This was bound to be a small march, with approximately 50 people showing up I estimated.
I was watching a couple of men with video cams recording the event when a little white haired, older gentleman wearing glasses came up to me out of the crowd and asked how I was doing.
"How ya doing," he asked me.
"Fine. Thanks."
"You gonna walk with us?"
"Sure am," I told him.
"Want'a candle?"
"Yeah... sure..."
It was at about this time that it dawned on me that I was speaking to the actor, and activist, Martin Sheen. Golly... he looked almost exactly like he does in the movies.
Along with starring, or acting in such films as "Apocalypse Now," "Gandhi," and "The Departed," as well as television shows ranging from the original "Outer Limits," to "The West Wing," he is a well known and long time political activist, beginning with supporting the farm worker movement with Cesar Chavez in 1965, to working on a host of progressive causes ever since, ranging from the environment, women's rights, nuclear weapons testing, etc, etc, etc, culminating in that evenings protest against the occupation in Afghanistan.
He gave me a nice white candle, and a young lady who was accompanying him gave me a napkin, supposedly I thought to catch the dripping wax as the said candle burned. How thoughtful.
He walked around, many recognizing him and gathering as he continued to pass out those candles.
One man approached him, and said, "I'm a big fan. You're an inspiration..."
"You too," he replied smiling. "It works both ways."
He would use that phrase repeatedly as others complimented him.
He began talking to a group of ladies, one a pretty teenager, then wandered off into the growing crowd.
The guy with the video cam came up to the pretty teenager, taping while interviewing her. She smiled while replying.
"Do you know who that man is?" he asked.
"Martin something," she replied.
"Yeah, Martin Sheen," he said. "You know... Charlie's dad."
"Charlie Sheen?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Oh yeah, I know who he is."
It was determined that she was a high school student.
"We need more high school students out here protesting. Why aren't there more?" the cam guy asked her.
She smiled and shrugged.
I patted his shoulder and told him, "Because there's no draft," then walked off as the march got underway.
The group had swelled to several hundred. Somebody gave me a light for my candle, and I cupped my hand partially around it as we began to march west on Wilshire Boulevard. That lovely flame did not once expire throughout our short journey.
We carried our signs, lanterns, and candles, while being called upon to chant for peace by others speaking through bullhorns, all the while being escorted by a roving contingent of LAPD officers on bikes, and in cars. It was exceptionably exhilarating.
I had no idea how far this march would take me. Eventually we passed Lafayette Park, continuing on in the west bound lanes, while cars and trucks blew their horns in appreciation of our cause (or because we were disrupting traffic, one of the two), while the police stopped cross traffic at intersections as we passed. I could see people looking down at us from the windows of the tall office buildings as we walked.
Soon we came to the Red Line Station at Vermont, and continued on one more block, where we veered right into the Iglesia Presbiteriana Immanuel Presbyterian Church, at 3300 Wilshire, on the south west corner of Wilshire and S. New Hampshire Ave. So this is where we stop, I thought. The whole thing taking about forty five minutes.
Inside the huge Gothic structure, a band was playing... a young dark haired man and a beautiful black girl singing. I'd lost track of Martin by this time, and didn't see him inside the church as the nave filled with marchers.
I sat listening for awhile. Then after ten minutes or so I got up and left the building, walked over to the Vermont station, and made my way home. It was only 7:30 or so.
What a great way to begin the evening, I thought.
I still have what's left of that candle. I'm looking at it right now, on my work desk sitting atop a pile of paperback books. It's looking back at me placidly.
It's reminding me of the candle used in the Amnesty International logo. Stop doing that candle.
Okay.
My lovely case manager, Erin, covets my candle, I can tell.
I think I'll keep it for awhile.

Goodbye Brittany

I awoke this morning exactly an hour and twenty minutes ago at 4:04, and one of the things I do at that particular time is switch channels on my television to CNN. I choose CNN rather than my beloved MSNBC because I can't stand the morning programs at that network, namely "Morning Joe," with Joe Scarborough. I'm not a big fan of his sidekick either, Mika Brzezinski, though I respect her father immensely. I don't switch over to MSNBC until after eleven.
And I don't even listen to CNN at that time in the morning, but keep the TV mute while listening to The Bill Press Show on the radio.
This morning as I switched channels from the "Law & Order," program that had been playing while I had been sleeping to CNN, I was shocked to see one of the little side bar boxes appearing near the bottom of the screen.
I said this: "What?!" Then I said, "Oh no."
The letters in the little box spelled these words: "Actress Brittany Murphy Dead."
Last night I had the pleasure of attending the Christmas service at Risen Church in Santa Monica. I was a tad surprised at the amount of attendees who showed up, it being so close to Christmas, and all. I thought many would already have headed out of town like my lovely case manager, Erin, but the basement room was near to full with mostly energetic young people, collage students, and recent graduates... by golly, I was in the midst of a gang of Yuppies.
Why do I attend this service being a Buddhist leaning individual at best, and atheist at the other end of the spectrum. Because I like it, and besides, you never know... I may one day be converted over to the ways of Jesus Christ. It happened quite rapidly to Saul on his way to Damascus I've been told. Hopefully if it happens I won't have to go blind like he did, but who knows, anything is possible and I limit myself to nothing.
Yes, I've read the Bible... and Taylor Caldwell too.
I enjoyed myself thoroughly having a lovely conversation with Maz, and securing a Christmas hug from lovely Leah, Erin's roommate. I also learned more about King Herod than I had ever hoped to, and of the baby Jesus's exile into Egypt to escape him.
Anyway, when I got back to my box shortly after nine in the evening I did not watch any news program, it's just not my custom in the late evenings to do so. I watched the film, "Enchanted," instead, and did not learn of Brittany's death earlier that day, apparently of a heart attack. I would not learn of that until this morning.
She was only 32. Ten years younger than my friend Jose Montoya, who died a little over a month ago, just as unexpectedly, and only 7 years older than another friend, Erin.
I've just been reading that maybe her death was not as unexpected as I had thought. Some say she had a prescription drug problem, which I'm sorry to hear about. At times like these I wonder how it is that I've survived to this ripe old age of 54, when I should have perished numerous times, numerous times for blatant misuse of dangerous combinations of non-prescription drugs. Hell, I should not have made it out of my teens.
I know that this morning while meditating, and counting each breath while doing so, recounting her life as I knew it, and Jose's, I appreciated the privilege of drawing each and every one of those breaths, a privilege that these two lovely people can no longer claim.
I will redouble my efforts to get Red Cross CPR training introduced on a regular basis within the SRHT infrastructure. Erin may think I've forgotten about that by now, but I haven't, and I won't.
I first became aware of Brittany while watching the 1995 Alicia Silverstone vehicle,
"Clueless." She played Silverstone's "project," a rather small role, but she made an impression. A little overweight, quirky girl, who made me catch my breath when she uttered the word, "stuff."
And soon I found her in other movies, a fine character actress in her own right, with a good sense of comedic timing, and always maintaining that quirky, sexy nature. It was always a pleasure to find her on the screen, or on my TV.
My God, just yesterday, escaping the constant rerunning of movies like, "Night at the Museum," "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation," and "Dirty Dancing," I found Brittany with her one time boyfriend, Ashton Kutcher in "Just Married," which I had not seen entirely before, and I really enjoyed watching it, her performance especially. I didn't know it of course, but she had already been pronounced dead before I began watching.

I'd seen her a few weeks ago on the Sci Fi Channel, in some low budget earthquake movie, "MegaFault." She was the best thing in that effort. I'll always remember her work in, "Sin City," and as the voice of Luanne Platter, on "King of the Hill," arguably the sexist cartoon character on television today, mostly because of Brittany's huge talent.
And I'll never forget, back in 2001, during one of the darkest periods of my life, living with the monster in North Hollywood, finding Brittany on the cover of Maxim magazine while shopping in a Pavilion's supermarket, and how that little thing brightened my mood, and helped me get through that difficult time.
It's now 7:10 in the morning here in Los Angeles. At ten o'clock this morning I will attend a memorial at the James M Woods Community Center, on Fifth and San Julian, for all of those that we have lost during the last year here in the Skid Row area of downtown Los Angeles. I will be there for Jose.
I will also be there for Brittany.
Brittany Murphy. November 10, 1977 - December 20, 2009.
May she rest in peace.

State Of Affairs

Lovely Cheryl

Okay, back to work!
Due to technical difficulties beyond my control, and an unfortunate incident with a monkey named Dexter, this blog has been offline for a few days. Hopefully everything is now resolved for the foreseeable future.
Freaking monkeys!
The big news story for the last couple of days has been the historically huge snowstorm now pounding the east coast and New England. This morning there are reports of 16 inches of the white stuff sitting in our nation's capital (that would be Washington D.C. for all of you Limbaugh listeners, and Fox News watchers), 21 in my friend Ron's hometown, Baltimore, and 23 in Philadelphia. The storm has been labeled, "The Storm of the Decade," and so far has been responsible for 5 deaths.
Being a Southern California boy the closest I've gotten to snow recently is the five pounds of it I just took out of my freezer after defrosting this morning. Glad that's done. I did see it snow once in Anchorage, Alaska, as I was returning from the Philippines (don't ask me why we had to first stop in Anchorage on our way to San Francisco, but that's the navy for you, and our tax dollars hard at work), and I've walked around in it a couple of times in the mountains north of Los Angeles. It was cold and wet.
My lovely case manager, Erin, actually paid some of her hard earned money to delve into the midst of this monster storm last Thursday... poor misguided child. She of course went home to New Jersey to be with her family for the Christmas Holiday. I was concerned that she had arrived safely, or at all after hearing of massive airline cancellations to and from that region. She replied to my inquiry yesterday, stating happily that she had just made it, and "woke up this morning in a blizzard!!! My dreams came true!!!" So she paid to get into the middle of the storm of the decade... and be with her family!
Poor misguided child.
Enough of these gratuitous exclamation points!
Case manager Paul will brave the cold weather next Tuesday if his flight to Detroit goes through. I myself will stay here in warm, sunny California, mainly because I spent all of my money on computer stuff, so I can't afford a trip to Arizona at this time to see my lovely sister and niece. But I will go there soon.
This storm has not stopped the Senate in Washington from clapping themselves on the back for securing an agreement to sustain an historic 60, filibuster proof, vote passing so-called health care reform. That is the Democrats of course. The Republicans are miserable about it, and crying like the little babies that they are. I don't know why. Health insurance stock prices reached a 52 week high on last Friday, but any attempt to improve the lives of average Americans makes them very unhappy. There is no public option in the Senate's version, let alone single payer. No Medicare buy in, and a host of other problems.
I've refrained from discussing the health care reform that is currently winding its way through Congress simply because of the tortuous process involved in getting anything passed in this remarkably dysfunctional body, and sincerely hope that this effort improves markedly as the bill is reconciled with the House's version. Still, our legislative system of government remains the laughing stock of the entire world.
The President has just returned from Copenhagen after reaching another historic agreement for setting reduction limits on greenhouse gases. The agreement is not binding of course, that would mean the largest polluters, like India, China, and the United States would actually have to reduce green house gas emissions.
So we've been making all kinds of history while getting little done.
Personally speaking, my lovely sister Cheryl celebrated her 39th birthday on the 7th, as she has done for many years now. Happy birthday Cheryl!!!
No more exclamation points, by God!
Hey Cheryl, send me an Email with a list of 10 movies or TV shows you'd like for Christmas and I'll attempt to magically procure them for you and Keri somehow.
Other recent news, Erin does not accompany me to the Hippie Kitchen anymore. She's too busy these days, she says. I can certainly understand that, but I tend to believe it has more to do with her lack of desire for beans and salad, and possibly the company she finds there, or possibly both. I certainly understand, I feel the same way at times, but still miss our excursions.
I can write this without fear of retribution because she doesn't read this blog anymore either. She's really busy.
We did have time to decorate the hotels nice big Christmas tree on the 11th, which coincided with Movie Day as it happened. Hardy actually did most of the tree itself, while Erin and I decorated the lobby. Rodney eventually kicked in. Erin played Christmas music from speakers attached to her Iphone. When "The Christmas Song," came on I asked her if she knew who was singing it.
"Bing Crosby?"
"No... that would be Nat King Cole," I told her. I'm surprised she knows who Bing Crosby is, though she certainly would have no reason to. I do know she's never seen any of the "Road Pictures," with Bob Hope.
I have.
Erin and I left Hardy and Rodney to make a short trip to the 99 Cent Store to buy some nice luncheon meat, Bologna it tuned out. We also bought some candy canes, soda, cookies, caramel/chocolate popcorn, and chips and dip (which I managed to spill all over myself), for the movie double header we had planned. We returned and watched first, "A Christmas Story," which I had never seen ("You've never seen A Christmas Story?!" Erin asked me.
"Never." "Wow, they play it on TV like a million times a year." which is true. I seem to remember trying to avoid watching it. As a matter of fact... cable TV is so weird. The American Movie Classic channel (AMC) has decided to air "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation," every freaking night! Sometimes twice a night! There's one channel, FX I think, that promises to play "Night at the Museum," over and over again on Christmas Day (as if they haven't been playing the damn movie twice a week already)... all day. Are the execs at these companies trying to lose advertisers?! One channel has recently been devoted to the "Dirty Dancing," movies. My God!). It was okay, although I am a Darrin McGavin fan. Erin seemed to like it much more than I did. The second feature was one I picked out (which was rather suitable as I supplied both DVDs), "We're No Angels," starring Humphrey Bogart (in one of his last films in a rare comedy role, directed by Casablanca's Michael Curtis. Bogart, as it happened, was born on a Christmas Day in 1899), Aldo Ray, Peter Ustinov, and a viper named Adolf, a personal movie favorite of mine. Erin seemed to enjoy it after I explained to her what Devil's Island was all about (don't they teach world history in school anymore?), and why paroled convicts were walking around free. For four hours we watched movies, then we finished off the tree. I was the tallest one there so I got to put on the star.
Last Thursday we had a small SRHT sponsored Christmas party in our lobby with the folks from the Olympia. It depressed me, except for Erin and her friend playing the guitar and singing Christmas songs. That was nice. After our party, their duty fulfilled, Paul and Erin took off to go to the SRHT staff party at some Mexican restaurant. We get hot wings, they get a Mexican restaurant. Remember that dear readers, next time you're thinking about making a charitable donation. Next year I'll personally sponsor a Christmas Steak Barbecue Party for the Las Americas... no staff invited. Sorry Erin.
I'm such a bitch.
Lastly, on the 12th, a Saturday, my neighbor Lester (the Molester), knocked on my door and told me there were people outside giving away large canvas bags of goodies. Naturally I went to investigate, and Lester was right, there were people out there giving away large canvas (black) bags of goodies, presumably because Christmas Day was approaching.
I took one from two of the nice, young people standing out on that rainy day, and brought it up to my box.
A few days later I looked inside.
The nice people who gave these bags away were from The Giving Spirit, which is situated at the Brentwood Presbyterian Church, in Brentwood, possibly one of the most affluent residential areas in the world. Rich people doing their part to feel better about having so much when others have so little (how about paying your fair share of taxes?).
Anyway, what was in this bag? A whole bunch of stuff: apples, Balance Bars, bananas, band-aids, a bar of soap, baseball caps, beef jerky, beef stew, a blanket, body lotion, bottled water, bread, candy bars, canned Vienna sausages, cereal bars, combs, cotton athletic socks, crackers, deodorant, gauze, gum, a hair brush, Halls lozenges, hand towels, lip balm, a manicure set, a mini note pad, Moon pies, Nature Valley granola bars, orange juice, a plastic bottle, a pauncho, a pen, plastic utensils, a six foot collapsible ladder, some nice pop tarts, raisins - large box, sesame mix, shampoo, a Slim Jim, a soap dish, sponges, sunglasses, sunscreen, tissues, toilet paper, toothpaste (you can never have enough) and toothbrush, trail mix, trash bags, Treetop apple juice, Treetop applesauce (Thanks Treetop!), Tuna and cracker packages, an umbrella, wet wipes, wool gloves, a wool hat, and a Ziploc freezer bag.
Golly, that ladder comes in handy!
Gee, coming from Brentwood and all, you'd think they'd through in a couple of tickets to Tahiti at least. Or a lobster tail or two.
And don't forget that big black canvas bag. I get to keep that too.
Now I'm ready for the next dismembered body I need to relocate.
Just kidding LAPD.
Really.

Afghanistan

"It also seems that the consensus about the safety of the LHC experiments is weakened by the fact that different theories regarding the nature of the universe and the particles that make it up lead to conflicting conclusions. If there are several different explanations for the same event, some of them must be inapplicable or wrong. This is especially important in the absence of empirical proofs. The end result is that physicists do not actually know whether one or another of the catastrophic possibilities will occur."
Will Physicists Destroy the World? The Large Hadron Collider and the Threats of Catastrophe, by Lloyd B. Lueptow

The above was taken from the weekly newsletter of the Skeptics Society. Dr. Lueptow is an emeritus professor of Sociology, at the University of Akron. He goes on to state that any uncertainty of the catastrophic outcome of running experiments with the Large Hadron Collider near Geneva, Switzerland, such as the formation of mini-black holes, and other exotic phenomena that might gobble up the Earth, and us with it, should preclude the use of the LHC until we are certain of the outcome. In the same edition his argument is fairly easily torn apart by Dr. Lawrence Krauss, a Professor of Physics and Astronomy, who quite rightly points out that these type of actions and particle collisions take place all of the time in nature and we're still here. But that's not why I'm reproducing part of Dr. Lueptow's argument.

Last night President Barack Obama addressed the nation from the Academy at West Point, stating his intention to send 30,000 additional troops to Afghanistan within the next six months, maintaining a total force level of approximately 100,000 troops there until mid-2011, at which time he hopes to turn over the security responsibilities over to the Afghan army, and begin bringing our forces home, the beginning of the end of our military involvement in that country. He justifies this escalation and further involvement in our occupation of this country by insisting we are still there to destroy Al Qaeda, and to keep the Taliban from taking back the country.
To Obama's credit he is not bombastically conjuring nationalistic fever to further his argument, proclaiming the need to spread democracy throughout the region, or intimating that if we leave expeditiously we will undoubtedly face another attack like we did on 9/11.
He admitted that there have been many views about how to proceed in this "war." The left wants to end it immediately and bring the troops home as soon as possible, the right wants to stay their indefinitely, and all shades in between, which seems to be the path our president has chosen by choosing the amount of 30,000. He hopes the situation on the ground will improve to the point that we can begin to withdraw our forces in 18 months, to do in that period of time what we have not been able to accomplish in the last eight years.
Granted, the situation in Afghanistan has only really begun to deteriorate within the last two years. Still this might not have happened if we had not diverted our attention from Afghanistan to Iraq, and finished the job instead of allocating resources in an unnecessary and costly military action, which was probably the biggest foreign policy blunder the United States has ever committed, and which the Republicans are strangely quite about while criticizing Obama and his current policies. Indeed, I don't hear much about Iraq at all any more. However, I do know we're still there.
So, what's the answer for Afghanistan? Is Obama right?
Who knows? Not me, that's for sure. I know this as well. No one knows for sure. The point of the first paragraph above is that in the absence of empirical evidence, all that can be offered is informed opinion. And if many informed opinions clash, or contradict each other, then some of those ideas and opinions, and those offering them, must be wrong.
But possibly only by degree. The point is no one knows the future, not in a matter such as this. Anything can happen.
It seems unlikely that we will be able to root out and check Al Qaeda, which is most probably not in Afghanistan, but across the boarder in neighboring Pakistan. And I don't think that should even be a worthy goal, considering its ranks have been disseminated, and it is is believed there remain less than 100 members, and they can operate in many places around the globe. There are, and will remain, larger, perhaps more lethal organizations, without and within our own country now, who pose more of an immediate threat to our national security.
The threat the Taliban poses to the United States is negligible. We had no problem with the Taliban (although I do fear and sympathize for the women, or females of that country and region, as well as many other places in the world) before 9/11. As a matter of fact we supported them in an attempt to bring order within Afghanistan.
How can we expect to get any lasting results if the pretense of a viable government remains in charge of that country? The Afghani people don't trust their own government, the world doesn't trust the Karzai regime, and knows it to be corrupt. I certainly don't trust them. How can we expect to meet any of the President's stated goals, no matter what success our military has, with such an illegitimate government in place? I believe that no matter how much time we remain in Afghanistan training their defense forces, as soon as we leave the Taliban will re-emerge as a significant power in that country, as long as Karzai remains in power, and we seem to be backing him.
A more significant problem lies in Pakistan, where the Taliban and Al Qaeda have established strongholds that the Pakistanis have not been able to control. Terrorist acts are being committed in that country at an ever increasing an alarming rate. The country maintains anywhere from 65 to 100 nuclear weapons, that are not only in danger of possibly being subverted by terrorist factions, but are also vulnerable to treasonous actions within the Pakistani military itself. It is a difficult problem considering Pakistan is a sovereign nation, at times at odds with the interests of the United States, but a problem that can not be ignored. I belive our attention should be on Pakistan, rather than Afghanistan. Many others seem to feel this way as well.
Remember, we were not attacked on 9/11 because some Muslim extremists and Al Qaeda hated our freedom, which is what President Bush continued to spew. We were attacked because we kept troops within their holy land. In other words, we were attacked because we kept screwing with them. In our future dealings with those who do not necessarily share our own interests we must still take those interests into account, and respectfully deal with them in a realistic, effective manner.
Osama bin Laden, if he is still alive, is rejoicing that we have spent so much of our national treasure, in coin and blood, in our inefficient attempts to force our way of life and politics throughout the world. Hopefully, with our new president our national path will change.
I believe it's time to bring our troops home, from Iraq and Afghanistan, and deal with the rest of the world in ways other than using our military strength, and begin nation building within our own boarders.
It's time to heal and rebuild. It's time to become strong again.

Breaking Into The White House, Lovely Leah, My Sunglasses, And Erin Gets Punched

Alright, enough of this Thanksgiving and holiday foolishness. Time to get back to work!
My lovely sister Cheryl was "stunned" that the couple, Tareq and Michaele Salahi were able to crash President Obama's first official state dinner, penetrating White House security, and putting the Secret Service to shame. Well I've researched this subject thoroughly, and this morning have finally discovered the explanation of what happened exactly. Dear Cheryl, you don't have to worry over our President's safety. It appears that the two were invited to the event, and this whole episode has been one big tremendous mistake. Tareq and Michaele said so! To Matt Lauer, so it must be true. Whew, I was worried there myself for a little while considering that threats to Obama are up 400% since he took office.
There does remain one troubling aspect to this event which must be examined before we can put this behind us. Robert Gibbs, the White House press spokesman said yesterday that the Salahi's had definitely not been invited.
So as Elwood P. Dowd stated in the play, "Harvey," and I paraphrase, here we have one person who says one thing, and another who says the opposite, which always makes for a lively conversation!
I personally am a stickler for all matters regarding safety and security. To prove this I point to the fact that I lock the door to my box every time I leave it. And its surrounded by a large, stinky moat. And I have a army corporal who thinks the Vietnam War is still going on guarding it.
It does seem that when the Secret Service should be most alert they dropped the ball, and may have been asleep at the wheel as well. To answer your question, dear sister, no, I have not heard of something like this happening before, unless you count the male prostitute, Jeff Gannon, who posed as a journalist in the White House Press Corps, who lobbed soft ball questions to President Bush during troublesome press conferences. But that maybe... just maybe... had been staged.
There does seem to be one point of contention regarding this mess. It would appear that the usual protocol for these types of affairs would include a representative from the White House Social Office on duty along with the Secret Service, who's job it was to make sure that this type of thing never happened. Apparently Obama's staff did not deem this step necessary. Perhaps they were wrong. I do believe this... this will never happen again. Not to this President at least.
Now on to more important matters, like the potential loss of my sunglasses.
I love my sunglasses. I wear them almost every time I go outside. During daylight hours that is. I'm not one of those people who wear sunglasses at night, or indoors. I actually use them because bright sunlight hurts my poor little peepers.
Well last Sunday night I made it all the way to the bus stop at 14th and Wilshire, in Santa Monica, before I realized I did not have my sunglasses with me. They must have fell out of my jacket pocket when I had taken it off during the service at Risen Church.
Christ! I decided to go back and see if anyone was still there. I had other sunglasses back at my box, but this particular pair I've had for probably the last ten years. They are nice, round sunglasses, like the glasses John Lennon once wore, and I liked them. Everybody liked them. They were highly coveted.
So I quickly walked all the way back to 11th and California, to the Trinity Baptist Church, where Risen holds its services.
I was mad at myself for not having checked my pockets before leaving. I slapped myself silly.
Young members of the young congregation were still milling about the entrance as young people tend to do. But I found the door to the stairway to the basement where the service is held was already closed and locked. I grimaced appropriately, turned around about ready to head back to the bus stop, when I heard, "Rick, Rick, do you need to get in there?"
I turned around to find that Erin's roommate, the lovely and ravishing Leah (don't get jealous, Erin. You're ravishing too) was still there, and it was her asking if I needed to get back inside. I did.
You can find, dear readers, a picture of Leah above. She's the one on the left. Erin is the one on the right. And my cousin Gertrude from Poughkeepsie is the one in the middle. I had no idea that Gertrude knew Erin, let alone Leah, or how it came to pass that they were hanging out together in some seedy sports bar. But I can't dispute the photographic evidence! So there you are.
"I left my sunglasses in there, Leah," I told her.
"Those were yours?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Let me go get them for you," she said, then got the keys from some guy, then disappeared inside to retrieve my stupid sunglasses.
I guess they had found my glasses while cleaning up.
Leah, along with being lovely, is very nice. She takes it upon herself to look after me at the services when Erin is not there, which so far has been like 75% of the time. I like her very much for doing that. Our conversations up to this point are somewhat... abbreviated, but most are between people who don't know each other very well at church services. She works for that shoe company that gives away pairs of shoes to people in third world countries for each pair they sell in the U.S., and had recently returned from a trip to Argentina. She also sings like an angel. I look forward to getting to know her better, or at least as much as she'd like to get to know an old man like me.
But I'm still extremely cute for my age.
She soon returned with my sunglasses.
"Thank you so much, Leah. I've had these for the last ten years."
"Are you serious."
"Yes, I think so."
"I can't keep a pair of sunglasses a month."
I left her so she could return to her friends and made my way back to the bus stop and back to my box, where I exercised until eleven thirty before going to bed. I ate a hot dog too. Polish sausage really.
At around eleven, my lovely and ravishing case manager, Erin, was returning from her weekend trip to Temecula. She had some left over sushi with her. I don't know why.
After she parked her car, and on her way to her apartment, she noticed what appeared to be a homeless lady sitting on the sidewalk, along with what looked like all of her worldly possessions. Erin, being Erin, offered her her left over sushi to eat, which she refused. I don't blame her.
"But can you sit and talk with me awhile?" she asked.
Erin, being Erin, acquiesced, even though the homeless lady... Mary it turns out, appeared to have been drinking. Vodka. The half empty pint bottle of vodka was a good indication.
Erin spoke with Mary for about an hour, although Erin was very tired. I have no idea what they discussed, though I do know from experience that is never a good idea to talk to people who are drunk, as Mary appeared to be, and who continued to drink her vodka. People who are drinking generally don't remember what you say to them effectively making the whole conversation completely pointless, but Erin did not realize this at the time, and did the nice thing by keeping Mary company for a while, and listening perhaps to her tale of woe.
I don't think Erin will ever do this again, because when Mary had finished her vodka, and after she had thrown Erin's sushi all over the street, Mary backhanded poor Erin straight in the kisser. Erin bit her tongue while this happened, and was more embarrassed that the men in the liquor store across the street had witnessed this, than she was hurt.
Erin quickly said her goodbyes to Mary and went home. Mary was nowhere to be found the next morning as Erin left for work, although her belongings were still there. Perhaps the Santa Monica police had offered her a place to stay for the night. Perhaps they had insisted upon it.
Well there seems to be lessons to be learned for all involved here. If you can find out what they are, dear readers, please let me know.

Higashi Honganji

"The Los Angeles Higashi Honganji Buddhist Temple has served the Buddhist community since the turn of the 20th Century. In 1904, Rev. Junjyo Izumida established the first Japanese Buddhist temple in Los Angeles, located at 229 1/2 East Fourth Street. The temple was relocated several times, to San Julian Street in Little Tokyo (1907), to Savannah Street (1911), and, in 1926, the temple was moved to 118 North Mott Street in the Boyle Heights area of East Los Angeles, where it remained for the next fifty years. The present temple, built in 1976, marked the return of the Higashi Honganji to its roots in Little Tokyo."

The name Higashi Honganji actually refers to one of two dominant sub-sects of Shin Buddhism in Japan. It was established in 1602 by the Shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu when he split the Shin sect in two (Nishi Honganji being the other) in order to diminish its power. Shogun's were always doing things like that.
Shin Buddhism actually refers to a school of Pure Land Buddhism. It was founded by the former Tendai Japanese monk Shinran Shonin. Today, Shin Buddhism is considered the most widely practiced branch of Buddhism in Japan.
Pure Land Buddhism is part of a broad branch of Mahayana Buddhism and currently is one of the most popular schools of Buddhism in East Asia, along with Zen, which I have studied, and one could say practiced (by meditating) for a good deal of my life.
I'm not going to go a whole lot into the tenets of the Buddhist philosophy. That is beyond the scope of this post. Look it up if your interested. I will tell you that as a teenager I studied all of the major religions that exist in the world, and a few of the smaller ones, and Buddhism is the only one that remotely made any sense to me.
Anyway, as part of my new found effort to make some constructive changes in my life, part of which is getting out of my box more often and meeting new people, I had decided to attend the Sunday service at the Los Angeles Temple of Higashi Honganji.
Why this particular temple? Well it would have been great if there were a Zen facility nearby. Or maybe not. Zen Centers literally will have you sitting around and meditating all freaking day, and that currently does not fit into my busy schedule. I've been to Higashi Honganji before, six or seven years ago, and the services resemble those of a regular Catholic or Protestant Sunday service... and hour, hour and a half, and your good to go. Enlightenment on the cheap.
And it's within walking distance. Right at Third and Central. I practically walk by it four times a week going to and from the VA.
As for the temple itself it was "Built in 1976. The temple’s architecture includes a traditional roof with over 30,000 tiles imported from Japan, lanterns which adorn the ceiling of the main chapel, and a magnificent statue of Amida Buddha on the altar. The temple reveals itself as a magnificent repository of Buddhist art and architecture. The beautiful Japanese garden was landscaped and continues to be maintained by temple members. Today the Higashi Honganji houses the Lumbini Child Development Center, a licensed pre-school and fully accredited kindergarten with a full capacity of 74 children in its care."
Cool.
I arrived there at about nine forty five, fifteen minutes before the service was scheduled to begin. A kindly, little old, bent over, Japanese lady opened the door for me and I went into the Main Hall, or Hondo, and took a seat. I was surprised that I was the first to arrive considering it was so close to ten o'clock.
Soon the doors were opened fully and a beautiful young Japanese woman entered and began fiddling with things. She was wearing traditional Japanese dress and was one of the two female Buddhist reverends who would be taking part in the day's service. The other one was pretty cute too!
"Is this your first time here?" she asked me, her accent slight.
"What was that?"
"Is this your first time here?"
"No. I've been here before, but a long time ago... five or six years..."
"Oh, well welcome back," she said smiling with her little, beautiful smile, then made her way up to the alter (Naijin) and continued preparing for the service.
The kindly, little old, bent over, Japanese lady who had let me in entered and took a seat near the front. Another Japanese lady, about my age came in and took a seat near me. Four young Hispanic kids entered and... four Hispanic kids! What the hell!? Well, they sat in the back.
A little after ten the gong began to sound signaling the start of the service. Soon about thirty people were seated, a mixed crowd. My friend Michael had asked me earlier that morning if there was mixed crowd at these services, and I told him with me there there was. It seems racial integration had progressed nicely since I'd been away.
The beginning of the service was marked by the appearance of the three reverends appearing up on the alter, two female, and the older, bald man I remembered from services past. They took their seats, and a middle aged, Japanese civilian approached the microphone and recited some interesting poems dealing, I believe, with our powerlessness over others, and other things, then the reverends began chanting.
They were very good at it. We were told that at this time we could come and give our offerings.
Unlike the Salvation Army and Catholic services I've attended in the past, this Buddhist service got the offerings (money) right at the beginning of the service before you had a chance to escape. Very wise I must say.
I entered the line and followed those before me. When it was my turn I bowed before the main urn in front of the alter, placed a dollar bill in the plate, bowed again, placed a small amount of incense in the urn where there was some already burning, bowed again, stepped back, bowed again, then returned to my seat. Simple.
The reverends continued chanting for awhile before stopping abruptly. The older reverend stood before the alter, we all stood and recited the Three Treasures, the first part which is sung, first by the reverend, then the rest of us, then the reverend recites a passage, then we do, then everybody does, then we sit down.
Then we stood up again and sang a song in English. Always with the songs. Public announcements were made. Then we were told we would be split up into two groups. Those who wished to continue in English were to move to the conference room, those who wished to continue in Japanese would stay right were they were.
Nineteen of us moved to the small conference room and sat around the table they had in there. The Japanese Americans outnumbered us honkies by one, plus the four Hispanic kids. Those numbers reflect the two reverends that came in to facilitate, the elderly man, and the other pretty lady I had not talked to. When she finally did speak it was in such a rich, thick lovely Japanese accent that I almost fell in love right then and there. Unfortunately I discovered she was married with two kids, and with my luck the husband would turn out to be the last samurai.
We went around and introduced ourselves, then the elderly reverend passed around handouts which were reproductions of a story that had been printed in the Buddhist Review, by Mark Epstein, M.D. It was about him driving around while listening to a talk radio station, an interview with a man talking about his childhood, how his parents had perhaps mistreated him while he was growing up, but also about how he had accepted that past and got on with his life vowing not to repeat the mistakes that his parents had made, and doing a remarkable job rearing his own children. It turned out the man speaking was Bruce Springsteen.
This was all very interesting to me. I remember the past times I had attended this service when the one reverend would recite a sermon in the main hall in English, then repeat the very same sermon in Japanese. This was much better.
I don't wish to be critical, but this is so Buddhist. Talking about things that matter in a practical way in daily life, rather than try to interpret what an ancient scripture may or may not have said, or meant, and how it affected us personally in the modern world.
Anyway, we discussed this fully for about an hour. Then one of the men talked about his recent visit to Kyoto, and the main Higashi Honganji Temple, which had just been renovated.
"I believe it is the largest wooden structure in the world," the elderly reverend remarked. I immediately began to wonder if they have termites in Japan.
At eleven thirty we were done, and I walked back to my box to type this up while watching "Knocked Up," and eating a Bologna and cheese sandwich, with creamed corn. I felt pretty good, although I think the Bologna was a little rancid. I ate it anyway. No cigarettes since Wednesday, and I don't feel like killing anybody. Quite the opposite.
Right now it's three fifty one in the afternoon, Sunday, November 29th, real time. I'm going to Santa Monica in about a half hour to go to another church service. Odd behavior for an avowed atheist, don't you think?
I'd meet a woman named Patrice who gave me the old eye.
I'm a babe magnet.
I'll talk to you latter dear readers.
Be good.

The Warning 4

Elizabeth Warren

The global financial crisis of 2007, and continuing currently in the form of decreased lending by banks, continued home foreclosures and increased credit card fees by banks bailed out with taxpayer funds, and a stagnant job market with double digit rates of unemployment, was first revealed to the public at large with the collapse of companies directly involved in home construction and mortgage lending, such as the British bank Northern Rock, and the American giant Countrywide Financial. Over a hundred mortgage lending companies went bankrupt in 2007 and 2008. The fear that the huge investment bank, Bear Stearns, would collapse directly resulted in its liquidation to JP Morgan Chase (itself a recipient of 25 billion dollars of taxpayer bailout funds) in March of 2008. The crisis hit its peak in September and October 2008. Several major institutions either failed, were acquired under duress like Stearns, or were subject to government takeover. These included Lehman Brothers, Merrill Lynch, Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, AIG, GM, and Chrysler.
This crisis perpetrated by blind American greed may or may not have been averted, or curtailed if the warning brought by Brooksley Born had been listened to, given credence, and acted upon. Considering the current dysfunctional political system our nation employs it seems unlikely. There will always be those who would place priority over making huge short term profits for themselves at the expense of the taxpayers, workers, homeowners, and the basic stability of the national and world economy. There are those in Congress who still adhere to a completely unregulated free market despite the overwhelming evidence that this has historically led to economic disaster for our country. Why? Because an unregulated free market system works for the ultra-rich elite who will amass tremendous fortunes, then exit the system altogether leaving the rest of us to pick up the pieces, if indeed we can. This has directly led to the disparity of wealth in this country, along with the Bush tax policies, a continuation of Milton Friedman's "Trickle Down Economics."
But Bush is no longer in office. He left at the onset of this crisis, one which he helped to facilitate. What shall we do now to pick up those pieces and insure that this never happens again?

Elizabeth Warren was a champion debator in the state of Oklahoma where she was raised. Indeed she attended college on a debate scholarship. This particular skill would make itself quite useful in the years ahead.
She attended Rutgers law school and graduated in 1976, then began her own business handling personal legal issues like wills, and real estate. She taught bankruptcy law at the University of Houston, and as she researched the issue she came to the conclusion that contrary to popular belief the average debtor, for the most part, was not involved in a massive scheme to "game" the system. Instead she found evidence to indicate that hard working people through no fault of their own were applying for bankruptcy protection due a sudden layoff or illness, or unplanned personal crisis like the death or departure of a spouse, and by 2005 was testifying to Congress against legislation sought by the credit card and financial industry to make it harder to file for bankruptcy.
Unfortunately this legislation was passed by Congress and signed into law by President Bush (of course), something I will never forgive our current Vice President Joe Biden for voting for.
Much to Senator Harry Reid's credit (no pun intended), although he disagreed with her, he took notice of Warren's passionate pro-consumer views and her ability to explain complex issues so that anyone could understand them, and appointed her to the TARP (Troubled Asset Relief Program) panel one year ago.
Since then she has reported before Congress, and in the media problems which are a direct result of the lack of transparency in the Treasury Department, like it paying out more than $78 billion more than the market value of the assets it purchased from banks. $78 billion, with a "B." She has also reported that despite the hundreds of billions spent on the bailouts, the financial system is still filled with toxic assets that could begin another meltdown, and that Treasury could offer no clear answer to Congress, and the American public regarding it's overall TARP strategy.
Like Brooksley Born before her, Elizabeth Warren is now facing criticism from those who would maintain the status quo. She has been accused of promoting an anti-bank agenda (considering that banks and investment firms got us into this mess it may not be a bad agenda to have. There are many, even Mr. Summers who still remains a major economic advisor within the Obama Administration, who state that the days of small banks are over. I tend to agree with the Independent Senator from Vermont, Bernie Saunders, who succinctly points out, "If it's too big to fail, then it's too big to exist: http://baselinescenario.com/2009/11/09/the-too-big-to-fail-too-big-to-exist-act-of-2009/, and efforts have been made to curtail her work.
She is now pushing a proposal, backed by the President, to help prevent the next financial crisis (realizing our propensity to forget, ignore, or just disregard our past mistakes, this seems like a wise and needed idea). She wishes to create a Financial Product Safety Commission to protect consumers from abusive lenders. She has written that mortgages and credit cards "should be subject to the same routine safety screening that now governs the sale of every toaster, washing machine, and child's car seat."
This idea of course terrifies the financial industry, and it's lobbyists have gotten to work in Congress which has begun to formulate legislation. The American Bankers Association, and The American Financial Services Association have begun fear mongering, stating this type of commission would "take us essentially back to the 1970s, where we had double-digit interest rates...and one-third the consumer credit available that we have now." Republicans in Congress have proclaimed this type of watchdog agency would undermine the health of banks. Financial policy analyst Jaret Seiberg said that the industry's worst nightmare is that should Congress create such an agency, Warren would run it.
What are they afraid of? Regulation. They are afraid, I believe, that they will no longer be able to get away with the same shenanigans that has brought this country to it's knees. I don't know... the idea of someone whose policy on selling financial products to an unsophisticated public is "If you can't explain it so the person on the other side can understand it, then you shouldn't sell it to them," would be a refreshing and needed change.


In a congressional hearing on October 23, 2008 Greenspan admitted that his free-market ideology shunning certain regulations was flawed. This has caused backlash from Objectivist thinkers, blaming the economic crisis on Greenspan's pandering to the mixed economy and betraying his laissez-faire views.


Sources for this post:

Washington Post, The Crash: What Went Wrong
By Anthony Faiola, Ellen Nakashima and Jill Drew

Wikipedia

Frontline: The Warning
Produced by Michael Kirk

Bank Buster: Elizabeth Warren is Wall Street's Worst Nightmare
David Corn