Bushixon

Someone in the inner circle of the presidency, potentially (and almost certainly) with the aid of the Vice President, has expertly released the identity of a covert imbedded C.I.A. agent. The word one would think these actions would conjure up, especially in a time of war (even if it is really a "conflict"), would be treason. So why is it as I. Lewis Libby Jr. stands trial for perjury and obstruction of justice we haven't heard this word even whispered by the talking heads? It is, of course, yet another victory for the conservative media monster.

Libby is being tried for lying about the ways in which he released the identity of a secret agent. He, and his conspirators, seemingly have not been pressed on the more treasonous aspects of this crime. The current trial involving Judith Miller, Libby, lawyers and a small car full of part-time circus clowns, has focused entirely on the more mundane aspects of this high-level leak. Prosecuting Libby for obstruction of justice when treason could be a foot is like prosecuting a bank robber for trespassing after he blasts the teller.

And why isn't this comment being made? I recall when this story first broke a professor of mine reacted to it with the same disgust and anger that any American should. To think, those at the highest levels of executive and military power outing an embedded American in a purely political action. A pathetic move of deceit from an administration that has become well-known for them, and this story comes at a time when the administration is in even more hot water for Bush's wire-taping.

Someone remind me, what did Nixon get impeached for? Well let us just quote the House Judiciary Committee in its bill to advocate the impeachment of Nixon: (he) "caused wiretaps to be placed on the telephones of 17 persons without having obtained a court order authorizing the tap, as required by federal law; in violation of sections 241, 371 and 250-11 of the Criminal Code". And as James Bamford points out in his New York Times editorial (and I'm pulling that quote from the very same article), Bush didn't just illegally wire-tap 17 people, he tapped thousands.

So let us summarize. A chief aide and a Vice President outing CIA operatives, a President who illegally taps the lines of thousands of Americans in the name of protection, and a war that was started on the basis of lies about the concrete nature of intelligence. And the response of mainstream media and collective American public has simply been a yawn. Just another complicated story best left to those in the ivory tower to discuss. And so the administration has been right in their cockiness over these miserable, and yet critical, six years in American history. They break laws, they line their own pockets, and they get Americans killed in a civil conflict. And how are they repaid for this ineptness, this open contempt for the American system, this level of governmental collapse? Re-elections and photo opportunities. Because in the long run no one seems to give a damn about these digressions unless they involve a God-less Democrat and a Jewish secretary.

Who Still Drinks in This Bar

I've been lost in the stagnate air of Orlando (how much longer can this city go on pretending it's still an orange grove?), and I've been disjointed as I try to piece together which room I'm in and which room I've burned down. So I'm sorry, you 3 people who check this sinking ship.

But I'm back. Tougher and stronger. I have no time for running backwards, and I have no place to go but towards the heart of the matter. You may ask, how could a writer with a blog about their everyday thoughts and musings not post anything for over two months? The answer, I had no thoughts for two months. It was a void, a scrambling lost time of nothing. A confusion of reality, and a symbol of what can happen when the mind leaves and the body retains. But we've bitten the edges and now the fat is in the fire.

Here's a short story I wrote this week. Two things; one, I hate writing in first person, and I think as a writer it's a complete cop out, and two, expect at least a post a week out of me from now on. There's no time for hesitation and there's no room for desperation.

Salvation

I can feel their eyes searching desperately for structure in a game made for fools. They always look the same to me, an odd herd of the elderly and the depraved. Scratching for the luck that fails to find their daily lives and pissing themselves at the prospect of another spin, another fleeting glimpse of false hope, another step closer to the death they can't help but spiral toward.

And I'll give it to them. The boat has been rocking hard tonight in the grasp of a boiling and angry sea. It's as if the ocean can feel the sin bouncing along blindly on its incredible surface. I've been working out here, spinning this wheel three miles out in the ocean, for a little over a decade now. And I've seen them all lose; the desperate school teacher, the politician, a lucky hooker, your mother.

But my time is fleeting, just like that worn and weighted ball that spins in the Devil's circle in front of me. They don't know it yet but there's no doubt that I do, and when He tells me to spin this wheel for the last time I will. And that may just be tonight, because the cliental seem just sinful enough and the stars just strong enough. I can taste the want of salvation in the vodka laced breath of the drunken man now standing before me.

"47 black you dumb cocksucker."

I nod grimly and spin it for him, and I suppose his soul deserves at least that much out of me.

But I think he deserves much more, and I think tonight may be the night I finally give it to him. I was told that it wouldn't be easy or understood, at least at first, but I can feel the sweat building around the tightly coiled sticks of Russian dynamite surrounding my ankles, and I know the hardest part is over. The wire that runs up my leg, over my rib-cage and across my shoulders to a small detonator in my palm, reminds me of the vicious snake in Genesis. It serves a similar purpose at least. And I'll spin the wheel for this heathen, I'll watch as it shimmers from red to black, and I know all the while that it will land on black.