into that good night, rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Hang in there Mr. Kennedy.......
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Same-Sex Marriage Is Legal in CA!
"In contrast to earlier times, our state now recognizes that an individual's capacity to establish a loving and long-term committed relationship with another person and responsibly to care for and raise children does not depend upon the individual's sexual orientation, and, more generally, that an individual's sexual orientation -- like a person's race or gender -- does not constitute a legitimate basis upon which to deny or withhold legal rights." -CA Supreme Court
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
She's done! (from Der Spiegel)
CLINTON IM AUS
Das Ende einer Ära
Die frühere First Lady hat hoch gepokert. Und verloren. Wenn nicht noch ein Wunder geschieht, ist Barack Obama der Kandidat der Demokraten - in einem dramatischen Finale wurde heute Nacht die Ära Clinton beendet.CLINTON IS DONE
The End of an Era
The earlier First Lady bet everything. And she lost. Unless a miracle occurs, Barack Obama is the Democratic candidate for president - in a dramatic finish, today signals the end of the Clinton Era.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
I do not understand.
I just finished reading my Christmas present from Agnieszka, "Inny świat" (or "Another World") by Gustaw Herling-Grudziński (written as Gustav Herling on the jacket....) It is his account of his life in the GULAG (a word which happens to be an acronym for Главное Управление Исправительно-Трудовых Лагерей и колоний, ГУЛАГ, Glavnoye Upravlyeniye ispravitel'no-trudovich LAGeryei i kolonii or Main Administration for Corrective Labor Camps and Colonies...... and actually refers to the prison system rather than the prisons themselves.....).
He ends the book with an amazing epilogue. He has been released from the prison as part of a much-belated general amnesty for Poles after the Sikorski-Mayski Agreement that allied Poland with the USSR against the Germans in 1941. He joined the Polish Army and, after the war, ended up in Rome. He was working at a government newspaper when he was approached by a former Polish Jewish cellmate, who had a similar story. The man had been the prisoner that announced the Fall of Paris to Gustaw in 1940. It signaled the end of all hope for the prisoners.... The then allied Germans and Russians had effectively conquered Europe; only London was left. The Poles would never be freed...... This man had been released under the same agreement as Gustaw, joined the Red Army, was injured, joined the Polish army and stormed Warsaw. There, he found all of his extended family dead, and he escaped to Italy.
Now, at the end, he has come to Gustaw for help. He wants to tell him a story of his life in the zone (what they call the GULAG), to which he would like Gustaw to simply reply "I understand". His story is that he was taken from a reasonable job in the zone and worked ragged in the Siberian forest for a few months. He was then taken before 4 of his fellow prisoners, Germans. The authorities wanted him to sign a statement claiming that he had heard the Germans discussing the impending fall of Moscow to Hitler. If he did as much, he would be allowed to leave the forest and go back to his previous, comparatively cushy, engineering job. He chose to sign the statement. He then heard the four Germans get shot.
Our hero Gustaw mulls the story over, remembering the depravity and horror to which he was driven, while in the zone. He decides that he has to make a similar choice to that of his friend. He can help his friend by condoning his actions and thus suffer -- this would mean reentering the realm of altered morals and lack of humanity that had existed during their incarceration -- or he can choose to escape this fate and remain a human being.
From the end of the book, after his friend has finished his story and is hoping for his "I understand":
'The choice was the same: it had been his life or the lives of the four Germans, now it was his peace or mine. No, I could not say it.
"Well?" he asked quietly.
I got up from the bed and without looking him in the eyes walked over to the window. With my back to the room I heard him going out and gently closing the door. I pushed the blind up. On the Piazza Colonna a cool breath of afternoon air had straightened the passers-by, as it would a field of corn bowed to the ground by drought. Drunk American and English soldiers walked along the pavements, pushing the Italians aside, picking up girls, looking for shade under the striped awnings of shops. Under the pillars of the corner house the black market was in full swing. The Roman "lazzaroni", small ragged war-children, dived in and out between the legs of enormous negroes in American uniforms. The war had ended a month ago. Rome was free, Brussels was free, Oslo was free, Paris was free. Paris, Paris, Paris....
I watched him as he walked out of the hotel, tripped across the road like a bird with a broken wing, and disappeared in the crowd without looking back.
The End'
Amazing book. Thank you Agnieszka.
He ends the book with an amazing epilogue. He has been released from the prison as part of a much-belated general amnesty for Poles after the Sikorski-Mayski Agreement that allied Poland with the USSR against the Germans in 1941. He joined the Polish Army and, after the war, ended up in Rome. He was working at a government newspaper when he was approached by a former Polish Jewish cellmate, who had a similar story. The man had been the prisoner that announced the Fall of Paris to Gustaw in 1940. It signaled the end of all hope for the prisoners.... The then allied Germans and Russians had effectively conquered Europe; only London was left. The Poles would never be freed...... This man had been released under the same agreement as Gustaw, joined the Red Army, was injured, joined the Polish army and stormed Warsaw. There, he found all of his extended family dead, and he escaped to Italy.
Now, at the end, he has come to Gustaw for help. He wants to tell him a story of his life in the zone (what they call the GULAG), to which he would like Gustaw to simply reply "I understand". His story is that he was taken from a reasonable job in the zone and worked ragged in the Siberian forest for a few months. He was then taken before 4 of his fellow prisoners, Germans. The authorities wanted him to sign a statement claiming that he had heard the Germans discussing the impending fall of Moscow to Hitler. If he did as much, he would be allowed to leave the forest and go back to his previous, comparatively cushy, engineering job. He chose to sign the statement. He then heard the four Germans get shot.
Our hero Gustaw mulls the story over, remembering the depravity and horror to which he was driven, while in the zone. He decides that he has to make a similar choice to that of his friend. He can help his friend by condoning his actions and thus suffer -- this would mean reentering the realm of altered morals and lack of humanity that had existed during their incarceration -- or he can choose to escape this fate and remain a human being.
From the end of the book, after his friend has finished his story and is hoping for his "I understand":
'The choice was the same: it had been his life or the lives of the four Germans, now it was his peace or mine. No, I could not say it.
"Well?" he asked quietly.
I got up from the bed and without looking him in the eyes walked over to the window. With my back to the room I heard him going out and gently closing the door. I pushed the blind up. On the Piazza Colonna a cool breath of afternoon air had straightened the passers-by, as it would a field of corn bowed to the ground by drought. Drunk American and English soldiers walked along the pavements, pushing the Italians aside, picking up girls, looking for shade under the striped awnings of shops. Under the pillars of the corner house the black market was in full swing. The Roman "lazzaroni", small ragged war-children, dived in and out between the legs of enormous negroes in American uniforms. The war had ended a month ago. Rome was free, Brussels was free, Oslo was free, Paris was free. Paris, Paris, Paris....
I watched him as he walked out of the hotel, tripped across the road like a bird with a broken wing, and disappeared in the crowd without looking back.
The End'
Amazing book. Thank you Agnieszka.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Tonight I met Cindy Sheehan
(Welcome to my first diary on DailyKos..... so far, including my contributions, I have 38 comments and 17 recs.)
I live in CA-8, Nancy Pelosi’s district. In fact, I live right in the middle of downtown San Francisco. I see, literally every day, some of the ills of gentrification, as well as the high-rise development in downtown and the dire situation of drug use and homelessness that plagues our nation. I have lived in and traveled all over Europe, and I’ve never seen the devastation of the San Francisco Tenderloin.
I live in CA-8, Nancy Pelosi’s district. In fact, I live right in the middle of downtown San Francisco. I see, literally every day, some of the ills of gentrification, as well as the high-rise development in downtown and the dire situation of drug use and homelessness that plagues our nation. I have lived in and traveled all over Europe, and I’ve never seen the devastation of the San Francisco Tenderloin.
I have been following this presidential race obsessively, first cheering for Obama, then Edwards, then Clinton, then Obama again, then Clinton again, then Edwards again, and finally Obama. Now, without any reservations, I am strongly behind Obama. I currently live in CA-8, but will soon be moving to central NJ.
Tonight, however, I faced one of the most interesting tests in the development of my political thought. I grew up in suburban Phoenix, believing in Bill Clinton due to my parents, reading Howard Zinn and Noam Chomsky and listening to Rage Against the Machine and hardcore. I was the stereotypical simplistic radical teenager. I voted for Ralph Nader (and not only do I stand by my vote, I challenge anyone to convince me that Nader is to blame, rather than the US Supreme Court, the Florida Supreme Court, the Republican Party, George W. Bush, the Democratic Party, Al Gore, the media, etc. etc). Yet, I heard Democrats claiming that by supporting a Green, I had betrayed the Democratic Party. I had to remind them that the Democratic Party was only the answer insofar as it represented my views..... and Gore had not.
Finally though, I went to Berkeley and watched my (theoretical) wing of the Democratic Party grow and come into conflict with the moderates on one side and those prone to radical ignorance on the other. I strongly pushed for social programs, for civil liberties and for tolerance. Those were my biggest concerns and issues. I finally became a Democrat.
Then, the war came. I was told, by two Japanese friends of my girlfriend, almost with glee, "your country just bombed Iraq". I cried at the University Health Center, watching pictures of "shock and awe". I had opposed both the Afghanistan and Iraq wars. I was disappointed in us, the people of the US. I loved my East Bay representative Barbara Lee for her contributions to our country. Yet nobody listened. And people died.
Suddenly, Cindy Sheehan came forward and spoke on behalf of her son. He was killed for an embarrassing, horrifying and destructive war. I saw her as a person in more than legitimate pain for the loss of a family member. Then, I saw her lampooned by the media. She was called crazy, delusional, an anti-Semite, etc. I began to ignore her.....
But it was entirely unfair. Tonight, she held a fundraiser in San Francisco for her campaign to take on Nancy Pelosi for the CA-8 seat in 2008. I watched her discuss her points. I didn’t think she represented her angle well. She sounded like a naïve groupie who was preaching to the choir. BUT then she started discussing Iraq. The obscenities started to fly. She was no longer the friendly, understanding person who had begun the discussion. Her passion overwhelmed me. I FELT her point. Here was a woman who had been completely devastated by the disastrous policies of my government and she was lashing out, screaming, "LISTEN TO ME!!!!!!"
Despite the errors of the activists that represent the left, we need to hear the voice of people like Cindy Sheehan. As much as we try to theorize about the political aspects of our current or future administrations, we are not allowed to fail to understand that people’s lives are at stake. Not just Cindy Sheehan’s son. Also: the children of countless others whose kids/parents/boyfriends/girlfriends/brothers/sisters are dying in Iraq; the Iraqis who’ve died by the hundreds of thousands; the victims of Hurricane Katrina who died, suffered and continue to suffer while our government just sits; low-income families who have to live with little income and no health insurance, and countless, COUNTLESS, other victims that I’m too angry to be able to name.
In the end, I don’t support Cindy Sheehan’s candidacy, because I don’t think she has the knowledge to lead our country. However, I have to say, and I want to repeat, ad infinitum, that her grievances are real, that the grievances of all our citizens are real...... and that this election is the fight of our lives.... THE FIGHT... OF OUR LIVES. This could be the twilight of our nation, and it is up to us to pull it back from despair, if only to preserve it for another generation of two. I’m sure you know whom I will be voting for. I hope you do the same. If you need a little guidance, think of those like Cindy Sheehan.
Tonight, however, I faced one of the most interesting tests in the development of my political thought. I grew up in suburban Phoenix, believing in Bill Clinton due to my parents, reading Howard Zinn and Noam Chomsky and listening to Rage Against the Machine and hardcore. I was the stereotypical simplistic radical teenager. I voted for Ralph Nader (and not only do I stand by my vote, I challenge anyone to convince me that Nader is to blame, rather than the US Supreme Court, the Florida Supreme Court, the Republican Party, George W. Bush, the Democratic Party, Al Gore, the media, etc. etc). Yet, I heard Democrats claiming that by supporting a Green, I had betrayed the Democratic Party. I had to remind them that the Democratic Party was only the answer insofar as it represented my views..... and Gore had not.
Finally though, I went to Berkeley and watched my (theoretical) wing of the Democratic Party grow and come into conflict with the moderates on one side and those prone to radical ignorance on the other. I strongly pushed for social programs, for civil liberties and for tolerance. Those were my biggest concerns and issues. I finally became a Democrat.
Then, the war came. I was told, by two Japanese friends of my girlfriend, almost with glee, "your country just bombed Iraq". I cried at the University Health Center, watching pictures of "shock and awe". I had opposed both the Afghanistan and Iraq wars. I was disappointed in us, the people of the US. I loved my East Bay representative Barbara Lee for her contributions to our country. Yet nobody listened. And people died.
Suddenly, Cindy Sheehan came forward and spoke on behalf of her son. He was killed for an embarrassing, horrifying and destructive war. I saw her as a person in more than legitimate pain for the loss of a family member. Then, I saw her lampooned by the media. She was called crazy, delusional, an anti-Semite, etc. I began to ignore her.....
But it was entirely unfair. Tonight, she held a fundraiser in San Francisco for her campaign to take on Nancy Pelosi for the CA-8 seat in 2008. I watched her discuss her points. I didn’t think she represented her angle well. She sounded like a naïve groupie who was preaching to the choir. BUT then she started discussing Iraq. The obscenities started to fly. She was no longer the friendly, understanding person who had begun the discussion. Her passion overwhelmed me. I FELT her point. Here was a woman who had been completely devastated by the disastrous policies of my government and she was lashing out, screaming, "LISTEN TO ME!!!!!!"
Despite the errors of the activists that represent the left, we need to hear the voice of people like Cindy Sheehan. As much as we try to theorize about the political aspects of our current or future administrations, we are not allowed to fail to understand that people’s lives are at stake. Not just Cindy Sheehan’s son. Also: the children of countless others whose kids/parents/boyfriends/girlfriends/brothers/sisters are dying in Iraq; the Iraqis who’ve died by the hundreds of thousands; the victims of Hurricane Katrina who died, suffered and continue to suffer while our government just sits; low-income families who have to live with little income and no health insurance, and countless, COUNTLESS, other victims that I’m too angry to be able to name.
In the end, I don’t support Cindy Sheehan’s candidacy, because I don’t think she has the knowledge to lead our country. However, I have to say, and I want to repeat, ad infinitum, that her grievances are real, that the grievances of all our citizens are real...... and that this election is the fight of our lives.... THE FIGHT... OF OUR LIVES. This could be the twilight of our nation, and it is up to us to pull it back from despair, if only to preserve it for another generation of two. I’m sure you know whom I will be voting for. I hope you do the same. If you need a little guidance, think of those like Cindy Sheehan.
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