An Idiot Wind has been blowing, it’s been blowing across America for a generation.  The Idiot Wind never stops blowing, it gusts every time the lips of a Republican start flapping, it blows harder every time the lips of corporate media hacks flap in praise of Republican lip flapping . . .

The Idiot Wind is everywhere, there’s no escape from it, there’s no escape from the damage it inflicts, there’s no escape from the Category Five propaganda it peddles, it’s unrelenting, it’s deafening, I haven’t known peace and quiet for so long I can’t remember what it’s like.  

Can anyone here remember what peace and quiet is like?  

Can anyone here remember what media integrity is like?  

Can anyone here remember what responsible journalism is like?

Can anyone here remember?  

In his Inaugural Address, President Obama told the Muslim world, “We seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect.”  He told leaders around the globe “who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society’s ills on the West” that their people will judge them on what they can build, not what they destroy.  He told those “who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, that they are on the wrong side of history, but that “we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.”

It would have been more fitting to target Republicans with that message, Mr. President.  You’ve extended your hand to them, but they will not unclench their fists.  You’re offering a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect, but they will not unclench their fists.  You’ve given them three fucking cabinet positions, but they will not unclench their fists.  Those mouth breathers will never unclench their fists; beating Democrats, liberals, gays, minorities, and the poor and the powerless to a bloody pulp is what they do, it’s hardwired into their lizard brains.

Fifty years ago, on February 3, 1959, three young musicians were killed in a tragic plane crash.  The lives of Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and Jiles Richardson ended on a dark winter night, their voices were silenced.  As the years passed, as the darkness of a long 20th century night of conflict and injustice deepened, too many other young voices were silenced.  By war, by oppression, by disillusionment so deep it emptied their souls and left them mute. They withdrew into isolation and despair, the drums of war, the drums of greed were too loud. The music of democracy, the music of justice could not be heard.  

A long, long time ago…

I can still remember

How that music used to make me smile . . .

Purple thumbs in Iraq.  Red, white, and blue thumbs in America.    We vote, but nothing ever changes.  The music of democracy, the music of justice is still not being heard in the corridors of power.    

What a long strange trip it’s been for America.  And it keeps getting stranger by the minute.

Jon Perr at Crooks and Liars warns:

Last year, the Roadblock Republicans of the 110th Congress set the all-time filibuster record.  Forcing 104 cloture votes by October 2008, the Senate’s GOP minority easily eclipsed the old mark of 61 filibusters.  And now, fresh on the heels of “elated” and “celebrating” House Republicans’ refusal to provide a single vote in support of President Obama’s $825 economic recovery package, Senate Republicans are now suggesting they will filibuster the stimulus bill.

As NLinStPaul notes in her analysis of this filibuster threat, ThinkProgress has reported the latest in Republican obstructionism:

While Alabama Senator Jeff Sessions offered a none-too-thinly veiled threat of a GOP filibuster (“I think its going to take 60 votes to pass the bill”), Arizona’s John Kyl said he would explore “whatever parliamentary possibilities are in front of us.” Senator James Inhofe (R-OK) promised to join the effort, announcing, “I would be a part of it.” And on Thursday, Chuck Grassley (R-IA) told Robert Siegel on NPR that a filibuster of the Obama package passed by the House could be in the cards.

In what cards?  These cards?

Rush Limbaugh and a deck of Tarot cards, that’s all the RePugs have left.

 

Its nine o’clock on a Saturday

The regular crowd shuffles in,

There’s an old man sitting next to me,

Staring into his tonic and gin.  

He says, son, can you play me a memory?

I’m not really sure how it goes,

But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete,

When I wore a younger man’s clothes.

A memory . . .

He remembered that one.  It was sad, it was sweet, and he knew it complete, when he wore a younger man’s clothes . . .

He was a veteran of the 6-Day War, a veteran of the Yom Kippur War, a veteran of the invasion of Lebanon.  He was a son of Holocaust victims, an old man tired of the killing, the hate, the self-righteousness of victims who create other victims and call it justice.  

Jokerman danced to Election Fraud’s Tune,

Stole the White House twice by the light of the moon,

Whoa-oa-oa . . . whoa-oa-oa-oa-oa . . . Jokerman.  

After a long day of projecting confidence, after reassuring Americans that we can deal with all of these crises, once that’s been done, once you reach the sanctuary of the White House family quarters and you’re alone, Mr. President, are you frightened?

You’re an intelligent man, you see what’s happening so you must be frightened.

But I don’t think you’re frightened enough.  I know what hunts you.

In their hearts, millions of Americans walked beside you down Pennsylvania Avenue on Inauguration Day, but one cannot simply walk into Mordor and call it change we can believe in.  Bush and Cheney have burrowed their orcs into every agency of the federal government. Their uruk-hai still infest the Pentagon and the NSA.  They have 55 million Gollums, they still have more than 200 Wormtongues in Congress and five Nazgul on the Supreme Court. They want their Precious back, their Ring of Power, if they have to destroy what’s left of America to get it back, they will.    

No.  One does not just walk into Mordor.  There is evil there that does not sleep.  The great eye is ever watchful.  

During the Great Depression, Woody Guthrie traveled across America and saw the injustice, poverty, and despair of a nation suffering the consequences of Republican misrule.  In the city square, in the shadow of the steeple, by the relief office he saw his people.  They were hungry, out of work, out of hope.  But he never stopped hoping that someday, for their sake, for the sake of their children and grandchildren, America would become a land of economic and social justice.

As he was walking that ribbon of highway,

He saw what America was, but he also saw what America can be.

He saw above him that endless skyway,

He saw below him, that golden valley,

He never lost his faith that this land was made for you and me,

and wrote an anthem that still touches the heart of every American who hears it . . .