December 22, 2007 archive

Japanese Stuff

Escaped ostrich ends up as oversized roadkill on Osaka highway Later it became luggage.

Newbie conductor opens train doors after departure

Ah curiosity: Whats the red button for?

All aboard! Brazenly bawdy exhibitionists engage in early-morning rail romps

In a densely populated city like Tokyo, there are precious few places where one can engage in sex in a public place without attracting smirks or disapproving stares. Or inviting arrest.

You thought Japanese trains were only for riding and groping salary men with phone cameras.  

Midnight’s Broken Toll

At midnight on Christmas Eve, bells will ring across America to celebrate the birth of Jesus of Nazareth.  But for Americans of compassion who try to stand up for justice as he did, there’s not much to celebrate.  For us, those bells will not be ringing in celebration, they’ll be tolling in grief for a land broken by deceit and hypocrisy, lost in the darkness of Christianist hate, and shamed by the mendacity, corruption, and betrayal of warmongering politicians.    

During his life of activism and compassion, Jesus of Nazareth lived among the poor and the powerless. Because the ancient world was so much more primitive and unenlightened than our highly civilized modern world, he lived in a land that was seething with political and religious turmoil, mired in chronic poverty, plagued by political corruption, occupied by foreign soldiers, and ruled by an arrogant, lying, incompetent puppet king with a 25 percent job approval rating.  

For advocating justice and speaking truth to power, Jesus of Nazareth was slandered, arrested, tortured, and executed.  Since his death 2,000 years ago, other activists have known they would suffer the same fate if they dared speak truth to power.  But they spoke truth to power anyway.  In every era of humanity’s long and bloody history, in every land where oppression crushed the human spirit and fear silenced entire societies, a few brave souls managed to overcome their fear and summoned the courage to take a stand, alone if necessary, for human dignity and freedom.

Human dignity and freedom are worth taking a stand for.  Every time.      

Action: Tell the candidates, No More Toxic Toys!

Today Public Citizen released a new report “Santa’s Sweatshop ‘Made in DC’ by Bad Trade Deals”. According to the report toy safety problems have skyrocketed as major U.S. toy corporations relocated their production overseas to exploit sweatshop wages in countries where they cannot ensure the safety of the products.  Thankfully the good folks at Public Citizen’s Global Trade Watch has put together a easy to use petition to the presidental candidates that simply says this:

Our current imported toy safety crisis is a symptom of race-to-the-bottom globalization. We need new trade policies that protect our kids and support strong consumer safety protections – not trade deals like NAFTA and WTO that promote the relocation of toy production overseas to venues where safety cannot be ensured.

The U.S. President has the power to ensure U.S. trade policy doesn’t undermine the safety of children at play. Urge the candidates to oppose provisions in trade deals that provide special benefits and protections for manufacturers to produce goods in other countries and limit U.S. border inspection and imported product safety standards. Also urge the candidates to provide greater funding for domestic agencies responsible for product safety.

That sound sensible to you? Join me below the fold to learn more about the issue and how to take action.

Can’t defund the war? Then defund the Democrats

(Cross-posted on DailyKos, where it has really stirred up the Kossacks.)

Enough is enough.

I spent 20 years of my life working to elect Democratic candidates.  Because that’s how I made my living, and because I believed it would make a difference, I’ve also given regularly to Democratic candidates over the years.

But the list of Dems who might get a check from me just got a lot shorter, after their latest cave-in on Iraq.

If they won’t defund the war, maybe it’s time to defund the Democrats.

There are 70 billion reasons to quit giving — one for every dollar they just appropriated for the Iraq war and occupation.  

Writing it that way makes it seem like too little.  This is better:  $70,000.000,000.00.  That’s how I’d use it in a campaign commercial against one of them in a Democratic primary.

No matter how you write it, it is a lot of money.

Did I mention that it’s with no strings attached?  No requirements to even begin to plan for troop withdrawal.  Nada.  Nothing.  Zip.  Zilch.

Seventy billion.

 

Santa Delivers the Constitution to George W. Bush

http://www.ccrjustice.org/news…

“Americans from all over the country – more than 37,000 of them – asked that a copy of the Constitution be delivered to the President in their name and cordially requested that he make time in his busy schedule to read it.

“While I was going over the list of who’s been naughty and nice,” Mr. Claus said, as he prepared for his visit to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, “I heard from many people who feel the President hasn’t been doing a very good job of upholding his oath to ‘preserve, protect and defend’ the Constitution.”

Responding to an urgent request from the Center for Constitutional Rights, Claus stepped in to bring messages from Americans who felt the President might need a refresher course in the Constitution. Citizens want to remind President Bush that the Constitution forbids torture and spying on Americans without a warrant, requires that prisoners get a fair hearing of the charges against them before a real court and makes the government’s treaty obligations, such the Geneva Conventions, the law of the land.

“These Constitutions will make great holiday reading,” Claus continued. “I want to be sure that the President has plenty of time to look at them before he decides on his New Year’s resolutions.””

Friday Night at 8: Shell Game

There’s an essay by NLinStPaul that I just can’t stop thinking about.

It’s about how with the right resources, we can keep vulnerable children from a life of hopelessness and poverty.

I’ve been blogging about New Orleans and public housing lately.  There was one photo posted by the Times-Picayune showing a black woman who had complained about her new home, the plumbing was bad, the door was broken, etc.  The picture showed this woman in her apartment — it was very neat and clean.  But what caused a big buzz was her 60-inch television set.

In a visceral reaction, many folks condemned both the woman and a system that would enable “freeloaders” to have giant TV’s that other hard working and deserving folks couldn’t afford.  It just wasn’t fair.  That’s what I heard every time I’d read these comments, the eternal cry of a child who feels they are missing out on someone else’s good fortune.  “It isn’t fair!”

This reaction is nothing new.  Ronald Reagan pandered to this feeling when he blasted a woman on welfare for having a Cadillac and successfully turned middle-class Americans against the poor, because “It isn’t fair!”

‘Course this isn’t rational, we know that.  In our times, we are being robbed blind by our own federal government for wars of occupation, graft, patronage, you name it.

But we can’t fight the government, it seems, because the government is too big and powerful.

We can, however, find a scapegoat.  And the poor have always been there for that role.

It’s a shell game, of course.  And we all can be prey to it at one time or another, depending on which part of our psyche would make us cry out, “It isn’t fair!”  

Pony Party: Merry-Holidays-All-Ye-Lurkers Edition

This is a call to all those who lurk around the Pony Parties… welcome! and please feel free to say hello. go ahead and leave a comment. be silly or serious. be profound or profane. just don’t recommend this pony party…

Tonight, I wanted to post this comment from ek hornbeck… it’s a wonderfully written short short short story. I didn’t want it to get lost, so enjoy it…

My ego and I sit in the bars… (2+ / 0-)

have a drink or two… play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they’re saying, “We don’t know your name, mister, but you’re a very nice fella.” My ego and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We’ve entered as strangers – soon we have friends. And they come over… and they sit with us… and they drink with us… and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they’ve done and the big wonderful things they’ll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. And then I introduce them to my ego… and he’s bigger and grander than anything they offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back; but that’s envy, my dear. There’s a little bit of envy in the best of us.

Well, maybe one more…this gem from a new poster (and former lurker???), Faber

In my time zone… (4.00 / 9)

…the solstice comes at 10:08 PM tomorrow, in the midst of all the fizzle-and-bang of cultural convention.  We have lived for uncounted millions of years beneath the recurring circles of this particular sky; whether we choose to surface the fact to ourselves or not, we have evolved internal representations of them, deeper than words go.  The longest darkness, in which things quicken that will manifest as the days lengthen again…  We are equipped to know, without the news reaching us over the problematical, uncertain road from an imagined Jerusalem, that this is our time for birthing gods.  

Might I crave your indulgence and bring, to this party, one particularly starchy old red tomcat?  He really doesn’t get out enough, and I’ve a notion it would do him good.  

by: Faber @ Thu Dec 20, 2007 at 19:35:27 PST

Friday Philosophy: The Observer

Once upon a time…

…or maybe it was twice.  Come to think of it, it was definitely much more often than that.

It was, after all, all about the time.  Then again, it was also about the place and the people who were there and the things that happened.  So maybe I need to restart.

Once upon a spacetime, I was there.  I have been an observer.  Somehow I adopted the notion that it was important for me to observe and record.  If not me, who?

It all started with a vision, although it may have started before the vision and elsewhere.  That’s the trouble with spacetime.  One wherewhen’s herenow is another wherewhen’s therethen.  But for the life of us we keep counting the time.  Sometimes it becomes all too apparent that it is a dwindling resource.

But I’ve kept recording.  It is my nature.

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