September 2004 (I): Objects Of Admiration

Photo: Steven Peterson

The Republican Convention opens for maximum date proximity to and exploitation of the magical 9/11 anniversary.

New Yorkers and others speak out, with CNN headlining a story, "GOP convention protest covers miles of New York." And also reporting the "miles" were filled by "tens of thousands of demonstrators."

Organizers estimate 500,000.

There's also this on September 1: Three-Mile Long 'Unemployment Line' Gives Bush the Pink Slip.

Over 1800 arrests are made in the course of the convention. Police documents will finally be released in 2007, after years of ACLU efforts. From James Ridgeway: the documents show the NYPD began plans in May to arrest protestors at the August convention instead of issuing summonses. Meaning, "You got to a judge in New York faster during the convention than you would have had you robbed a bank." And—

The documents show the cops themselves agreed with the protestors in that 40 officers filed occupational health forms complaining about environmental conditions at the 57th Street pier, a former MTA bus depot, that served as a holding and processing facility. The officers said they were exposed to asbestos, carbon monoxide, sludge, oil, fumes and toxic materials.

At my workplace the wingnut women go on about listening to Laura's speech and how wonderful she is. From Jesus' Best Administrative Assistant: "she humanized him!"

Also according to Jesus' BAA, "Vice President Cheney has a lot of good ideas, too...I don't remember what they are ... [pause to rev up manic laughter] ...Eh heh! Eh heh! Eh heh!"

Charles Pierce later observes of this election season—

...At the end of August 2004, the Zogby people discovered that 57 percent of undecided voters would rather have a beer with George Bush than with John Kerry. Now, how many people with whom you've spent time drinking beer would you trust with the nuclear launch codes? Not only is this not a question for a nation of serious citizens, it's not even a question for a nation of serious drunkards.

The regime has two strategies of public image management. One is the story for the rubes—George is a regular fella, with adoring, properly Stepfordian, wife by his side.

Which must be what Jesus' BAA meant by Laura's "humanizing" her awesome leader. It no doubt takes a zombie to identify with another one, and this one sure seems to feel a kinship with Laura. In the case of Jesus' BAA, I have no idea if the glazed eyes and fixed smile are just the mark of a 100 percent true believer. Or if Jesus' BAA is emulating her heroine's level of medication.

Of course, when anyone with access to the public ear and eye tries telling a story different from the regime's, that activates the other tactic: to smear—and if possible, destroy—the subject. (A little on some recent efforts in Part II.)

Meanwhile, the glow that comes from a well-cleansed mind sometimes departs the face of Jesus' BAA, and worry over Sonny, Jr.'s departure for boot camp takes over.

The wheels begin turning—she works for Dr. Gott, a big man in his field who travels the world attending professional meetings. Jesus' BAA asks the good doctor for travel advice, as she plans a family trip before Sonny, Jr. is to leave. Specifically, could Dr. Gott suggest good places to eat at -----burgh?

Now, this place is about 50 miles from here: one of those staving off Depression foothill/mountain towns (there are a few around the country), that made themselves into "alpine" theme towns following the loss of logging, or whatever economic source they once had. Low-budget Disney, in other words, and Jesus' BAA's idea of an exotic trip.

For which she seeks guidance from the world traveler...she's so pathetic, there are times I start to feel sorry for her. But I soon get over it, as I listen to the rest of what she spouts.

Charles Pierce again, from a piece this month, "Daddy Darkest"—

[Andrew] Card...had to interrupt the ensemble reading of The Pet Goat in order to tell George W. Bush that someone had flown airplanes into the World Trade Center, thus starting the clock on the now-famous Seven-Minute Glaze. Card was talking... about that moment, clinging to the GOP talking points like a nun to her beads. The president "didn't introduce fear into any of those young children or through the national media, to the American people," explained Card. Then, he attempted to explain how the president feels about the 200 million-odd souls who are, after all, his employers:

"It struck me as I was speaking to people in Bangor, Maine, that this president sees America as we think about a 10-year-old child. I know as a parent I would sacrifice all for my children."

Let us leave aside any discussion prompted by Card's remarks that might uncomfortably contain the word "Fatherland." Let us take him at his word -- namely, that the president of the United States looks at the world's longest-standing free democratic republic and sees . . .

A middle-schooler.

...what Card said perfectly encapsulates this administration's approach to governance -- its fundamental contempt for democratic restraints and its hubristic insolence toward any limits on its political appetites. Our president is our Daddy. He will make his wars to keep us safe, and all we have to do is love him back, and do what he tells us to do. Go shopping. Go on happy vacations. Leave the decisions to Daddy and to Daddy's friends. They run things so we don't have to.

"Love him back"—and give him your first-born.

They've certainly tapped into the psychology of my office.