In which the middle-aged Peacenik mouths off about War Drones--and all the other things that make him cranky.

Mr Mahatma--who is a Mr in real life--lives in the valleys of Southern California with his wife, a herd of Dears, and an impressive collection of books. Pnorny!
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Little Mr Mahatma
 
Tuesday, November 23, 2004  
From the Ashes
Yesterday I started to write about how depressed I was with our UberRight Administration. It may have been the lack of chocolate muffins in the cafeteria but I had opened the paper to find, yet again, another idiocy by the Administration and another push by the Fanatical Christian Right to force their warped views on a part of America. And I had enough. It depressed me that we have - had - a great country and it's being destroyed by Politics, Religion, and Big Business who all feel that this country is theirs to manipulate as they see fit. Worse, I felt that there was little, essentially nothing, I could do to even briefly halt this descent that our country takes.


But this morning I felt different, that perhaps this freefall of our country is a good thing in that from the ashes that will result at the bottom splat, we can rebuild the country properly and fulfill the vision of the Founding Fathers: a country of fairness, equality, and diversity. Instead of the American Eagle, our symbolic animal could be the Phoenix to represent the undying hope that True Americans hold for a better life for all not just a select few.


So go ahead Bush, preach your words and make your laws. Let your Neocon, Business, UberRight, and Religious friends dictate policy. Show us just how your world view with its narrow, intolerant, discriminatory blinders can apply to all peoples fairly. Prove to us that a Christian America with a substantial non-Christian population can be impartial. Demonstrate to us that Big Business can call the shots and can value humanity over profits. Stay in Iraq. Invade Iran and North Korea. Go ahead. Do it. ou've got the buttons.


When it all fails and you stand there like a buffoon with that befuddled look on your face, don't expect any sympathy from the half of America that didn't vote for you. Don't expect any convenient scapegoats, they've resigned. Don't expect the world to pat you on the back. In fact, the wolves will come to feast on the sheep you've happily led to slaughter. Have a Happy Thanksgiving!


8:54 AM

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