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Sunday, Nov 8, 2009
pinesolprincess
Published Letters: 23
We let Bush steal the last election, and now we are granting the Executive Branch unprecedented, unlimited, no-fear-of-reprisal power to spy on Americans. Spy! On US! Our economy is circling the toilet, thousands have died in Iraq (and for what? An oil war? Then why are we paying so much to fill up our tanks?), and Bush has gutted the Clean Air Act and every piece of existing or proposed legislation that might mitigate the catastrophic damage we are doing to the environment.
So I ask you: where is the outrage? Why are we sitting idly by and letting this happen? There should be marches on Washington, massive outpourings of mail demanding his immediate resignation. At the very least he should be impeached. Bush has BROKEN THE LAW. Damn near every member of his Cabinet has broken the law. You and I can't go to the corner store on an expired inspection sticker without suffering consequences. WHERE ARE THE CONSEQUENCES HERE?
If we, as Americans, don't demand that our representatives in all branches of government pay for their blithe disregard for pesky inconveniences like, say, the Fourth Amendment, we are no better than any banana republic dictatorship. So summon your rage. Summon your will to fight. Then fight! Fight FISA tooth-and-nail. Organize a grassroots effort to get Bush impeached.
The time is now.
Only two things can be surmised from Obama's volte face on the FISA bill: he's an unprincipled weasel or Presidential hopefuls must sell the office to gain the office. Shame on the Democrats for supporting this egregious legislation. Shame on us for failing to stop it.
I left the love of my life, a high-functioning alcoholic (hardworking, responsible, honest, smart) about a week after he'd gotten an alcohol-related 325 cholesterol reading and had reacted to that by going on a three day pot-and-alcohol bender. Our breakup nearly killed me. I fell into a suicidal depression, especially since I still loved him. He was my friend, my confidante. We connected on soul levels I had never known before. But I was getting sadder and lonelier by the month, watching him party with friends. Maybe it's due to the fact that I'm an aerobics instructor, but getting plowed has never held any interest for me.
Frankly, I don't know how I found the courage to leave. There was no one waiting in the wings. I knew I'd be consigning myself to a thousand lonely nights without the pleasure of his company. But wasn't I already lonely, one sober chick in a roomful of educated winos? When I finally did it, I was sobbing hysterically, explaining over and over how I knew he didn't see his lifestyle as a problem and how I realized he wasn't going to change. I already knew, you see, that you don't change alcoholics. You will always, always, ALWAYS come in second to their addiction.
He gave me this detached, curious stare and asked me what all the drama was about.
Lesson learned: water is wet. An alcoholic is an alcoholic. Escape is offered to us in many forms--surfing the Internet for mindless amusements, or porn, or Instant Messaging to the exclusion of relating to live humans. We use LOTS of things to keep from feeling our pain. But I felt my pain during that season of my life. Every minute of every day. It almost sent me down the rabbit hole. Yet I never regretted my decision to leave.
Hillary Clinton gave a speech the likes of which I have rarely heard. Passion, purpose, heartfelt championing of the underdog...it was all there. She IS Presidential material. Anyone else would have caved under the pressure to do the impossible: please everyone.
To me, she embodies the true spirit of the Democrats (at least those Democrats who don't bow and scrape to the false god of "centrist" values.) She took this speech to the hoop. Vote for Obama I will, absolutely. But I will never relinquish a burning hope that one day Hillary Clinton will assume her rightful place in the White House.
And you articulated something that's been bothering me for years. We are a nation of addicts--whether it's Oxycontin or orgasms--we constantly crave that next line, that next pill, that next piece of ass. There is this huge gaping deficit...of love. We're addicted to the chemicals released into our brains by new sexual experiences and mistake those for the real deal. Frankly, it's tragic. Think of the families torn apart by the wretchedness of illicit (chemical), sexually-obsessive (chemical) affairs.
I know. I've been on the receiving end of addicts' obsessions. The fault is mine, in part: I involve myself with men who can't possibly love me because they're too love-stoned to know who I am. I get it now. It took me longer than maybe it should have. What's sad is how easily I was duped into thinking THIS was love.
So to paraphrase Maya Angelou, you do the best you can do with the information you have; when you know better, you do better. Learning to love someone irrespective of the chemical cocktail they may serve is hardly glamorous. But it sure beats the alternative: endless years of stunt-cock (or substitute genital preference here).
You have only to look at the divorce rate to know this is true.
Much of the initial coverage about Fort Hood turned out to be wrong. Is there anything wrong with that?
The accountability imposed by another country for the CIA's kidnapping and torture reveals much about our own.
Fox News' morning show plays to type, talking about whether Muslims in the Army should face "special debriefings"
The survivor and author is upset about comparisons some on the right are making to genocide
Once seen as a lunatic fringe, reactionary anti-women groups are courting respectability
Salon headlines in your mailbox
