the sawpit

Our New Mayor of London

Notes from Blighty – by Chris Cobb

Londoners have just gone to the polls to unseat their long-time mayor, Ken ('Red Ken') Livingstone, in favor of maverick Tory Boris Johnson. This outcome was considered so unlikely back in the autumn when Boris announced his candidacy that the bookies would give you 16-1 against. Boris, you see, was considered something of a buffoon, if not an outright liability, within the Conservative Party. That he was elected says something about rebellious Londoners who refuse to be dictated to by the pollsters and The Guardian; sort of like high schoolers electing the class clown as student council president in order to stick it to the school authorities.

Following are some of Boris's more infamous pronouncements:

On George W Bush
"The President is a cross-eyed Texan warmonger, unelected, inarticulate, who epitomises the arrogance of American foreign policy."

On using a mobile phone while driving
"I don't believe that is necessarily any more dangerous than the many other risky things that people do with their free hands while driving - nose-picking, reading the paper, studying the A-Z, beating the children, and so on."

On commuting
"I forgot that to rely on a train, in Blair's Britain, is to engage in a crapshoot with the devil."

On Euro-scepticism
"I can hardly condemn UKIP as a bunch of boss-eyed, foam-flecked Euro hysterics, when I have been sometimes not far short of boss-eyed, foam-flecked hysteria myself."

Tony Blair
"It is just flipping unbelievable. He is a mixture of Harry Houdini and a greased piglet. He is barely human in his elusiveness. Nailing Blair is like trying to pin jelly to a wall."

On becoming Prime Minister:
"My chances of being PM are about as good as the chances of finding Elvis on Mars, or my being reincarnated as an olive."

On Channel 5
"I don't see why people are so snooty about Channel 5. It has some respectable documentaries about the Second World War. It also devotes considerable airtime to investigations into lap-dancing, and other related and vital subjects."

On being sacked by Michael Howard
"My friends, as I have discovered myself, there are no disasters, only opportunities. And, indeed, opportunities for fresh disasters."

On how to vote
"Voting Tory will cause your wife to have bigger breasts and increase your chances of owning a BMW M3."

On why he voted for David Cameron as Tory leader
"I'm backing David Cameron's campaign out of pure, cynical self-interest."

On drugs
"I think I was once given cocaine but I sneezed so it didn't go up my nose. In fact, it may have been icing sugar."

On the City of Portsmouth
"Too full of drugs, obesity, underachievement and Labour MPs."

On tennis
"I love tennis with a passion. I challenged Boris Becker to a match once and he said he was up for it but he never called back. I bet I could make him run around."

On the Labour Party (or Papua New Guinea)
"For 10 years, we in the Tory Party have become used to Papua New Guinea-style orgies of cannibalism and chief-killing, and so it is with happy amazement that we watch as the madness engulfs the Labour Party."

On the Liberal Democrats
"The Lib Dems are not just empty. They are a void within a vacuum surrounded by a vast inanition."

A Frustrating Sideshow

I have not written any posts on the Democratic primary battle because I had hoped things would have settled down by now. How wrong I was. In fact, these past few months have been quite depressing. Last year I was very optimistic about the Democrat's chances at taking back the White House. Now I see that golden opportunity vanishing every day this war between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama drags on. For years the Democrats have been more united than I've ever seen them over issues like the failed war in Iraq, the outing of a covert CIA operative, the torture of detainees, the illegal wiretapping of Americans, and the political firings of the U.S. Attorneys. All those subjects have been excellent fodder for the liberal blogosphere and left leaning media in general. But for months now Clinton and Obama, along with their supporters, have been clashing as if they belong to different parties. It's been a frustrating sideshow of media hype and internal squabbles. Meanwhile, all the critical issues that voters really care about have been ignored while the fighting and bogus "reporting" continues. I just hope that the superdelegates will decide on a candidate before the convention so we can get on with the real fight against Senator John McCain. Voters must be reminded over and over that supporting McCain will only result in another four years of George W. Bush policies. And the only way we can convince the voters that McCain would be a disaster is to have all the Democrats united under one ticket. Let's hope that day comes real soon.

The Real Grave Threat to Peace

On October 7, 2002, President Bush gave a speech in Cincinnati, Ohio, in which he called Iraq a grave threat to peace, and that "knowing the designs and deceptions of the Iraqi regime, we have every reason to assume the worst." Today, five years after the U.S invasion of Iraq, as U.S. and Iraqi body counts continue to climb, the conclusion of this bloody occupation is nowhere in sight. A few weeks ago, President Bush claimed the Iraq war was "noble, necessary and just" even though the initial rationales for war -- stock piles of chemical and biological weapons, an active nuclear weapons program, and direct links to al Qaeda -- have turned out to be false. Bush remains steadfast in defending his decision to invade Iraq despite all the horrible consequences. If the U.S. had kept the inspectors in Iraq instead of invading, it's hard to imagine Saddam Hussein killing between 82,591 -- 90,115 Iraqi civilians, or 4011 U.S. troops. It is unlikely that 1 in 5 Iraqis would have been forced to flee their homes for neighboring countries like Syria. And, of course, who can forget the billions of dollars already spent on this never-ending war. But none of that really matters to President Bush. He lives in his own version of reality -- one where future historians will revere him as another Abraham Lincoln or Winston Churchill.

And then there's John McCain. The Arizona Senator has made his support for the initial invasion and continued occupation, a cornerstone of his campaign for the Presidency. He has also hinted that Iran could be the next target of U.S. military action (see "bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran"). The question is, has John McCain learned anything from the tragic destruction of Iraqi civil society under the guise of "protecting" the United States from some perceived threat? Unfortunately, no. Senator McCain is banking on the same currency that has served the Bush administration so well in the past: fear. Playing the fear card means never having to tell the complete truth. McCain has been claiming repeatedly that al Qaeda is being trained by Iran and then unleashed to attack coalition forces in Iraq. Although McCain did correct himself, one must understand that his deceptions are intentional. He is employing the same propaganda tactics used by the Bush administration to connect al Qaeda and Saddam Hussein as partners in crime. We must keep John McCain out of the White House. After all, he has already told us that there will be more wars. We must insist on peaceful negotiations instead of war. We must keep the option of war as a very last resort. This is why it's so imperative that we support the Democratic nominee for President come November, whoever it may be.

Millennium Celebration: America's Rapid Decline

Notes from Blighty – by Chris Cobb

Along with the Bechtels and Exxons and the private security firms of this world, one other group stands to profit from the successive administrations of Il Bush: future generations of schoolkids will thank him for making their lives a little easier. After trying to memorize all the important dates in American history that seem to be based on prime numbers – 1775, 1917, 1941, 1969 – they will come upon one more, the watershed year when the power of the U.S. began to decline. What could be easier to remember than 2000?

Along with the Bechtels, Exxons, private security firms and the students yet to come, I too celebrate the millenium year of 2000. I have made my peace with the decline of the U.S. as the wealthy superpower. At all odds it had to come; no state, no empire stays on top for ever. But the descent should have been gradual, like the beginner's slope, not freefall like the downside of the rollercoaster. History tells us it could take hundreds of years; after all, Rome wasn't burnt in a day. Fortunately the we will all be spared that. The decline will be precipitous and I couldn't be more pleased. The faster the firepower is removed from American hands the better off we'll all be.

If the latter half of the twentieth century proved one thing, it proved the U.S. cannot be trusted to act responsibly on the world stage. Behind the shibboleth of democracy we left a trail of right-wing dictators, cock-of-the-walk generals and a lot of dead peasants. The only honest government the U.S. ever put in power was the Taliban.

When future historians try to account for this sudden devaluation of American power they will focus on that one year. 2000 will be marked as the year that George Bush came along to give it a good healthy push. We should all celebrate.

England My England

When you come back to England from any foreign country, you have immediately the sensation of breathing a different air. Even in the first few minutes dozens of small things conspire to give you this feeling. The beer is bitterer, the coins are heavier, the grass is greener, the advertisements are more blatant. The crowds in the big towns, with their mild knobby faces, their bad teeth and gentle manners, are different from a European crowd. Then the vastness of England swallows you up, and you lose for a while your feeling that the whole nation has a single identifiable character. Are there really such things as nations?

From "The Lion and the Unicorn"
by George Orwell, 1941

It took me twenty-seven years before I finally returned to England to visit my Mother's family. I was brought there by my family for the first time when I was seven year old. The highlight of that trip was being personally fingerprinted by a Scotland Yard detective. Man, that was cool -- much more fun than watching the guards change at Buckingham Palace. I returned again with my Mother and my sisters when I was fifteen. That visit took place in the wake of John Lennon's shocking murder. That was not a very happy time for me. My Mom is from the city of Birkenhead which is just across the River Mersey from Liverpool. The Beatles landmark tour I embarked on for a few days in late December 1980 was a very bitter one indeed. I remember thinking how dismal the weather was, how the sun almost never came out the entire time, and how much I missed home. The food was bland and when you ordered a burger and fries, they charged you for the ketchup.

But I aways remembered England by the way the cities smelled. It was a burned brick and petrol odor that seemed to emanate from the very streets and buildings. It gave me a timeless feeling. It made me think of gigantic locomotive trains and towering double decker buses. The England I remembered was a patchwork quilt of green and browns, of hedgerows, dark brick row-houses, cobble-stone streets and narrow back alley outhouses. After the first week of our visit, I realized that, for the most part, England hasn't changed all that much. But we were not at all happy to see McDonald's, KFC, Pizza Hut and Starbucks in almost every city we visited. Yet the English still like to keep thinks low-key. And they cherish their history and take pride in their beautiful old houses and buildings. They don't like hideous billboards everywhere like we do, they prefer to drive on the wrong side of the road, they don't mind security cameras mounted in every corner of every big city, and they aren't afraid of a little nudity and profanity on the tube. Oh, and the biggest shocker of them all -- they've got Charles Darwin on their ten pound note!

When we get to England

When we get to England
Will we know when we've arrived?
When we get to England
Will we know if she has died?

Does the girl with the dogs
Still live in the big house
On the corner?
Are the boys collecting frogs
Still marching away
To die in war?

Like it's all from a dream
Like it's all from some history book
Did I look too hard
Did I miss something that I should have seen?
When we get to England
Will it still be there?

When we get to England
Will we know when we've arrived?
When we get to England
Will a kiss bring her alive?

Once a farmer in the field
Had to grow enough
To feed his family
Now they pay him for his yield
Just to burn it down
And throw away

Like it's all from a dream
Like it's all in a crystal ball
Did it fall so hard
Rest in pieces on a village green?
When we get to England
Will it still be there?

When we get to England

Andy Partridge

The Working Poor Candidate Exits Stage Left

Now that John Edwards has exited the presidential race, will any other candidate address issues of poverty and working class alienation they way that he did? Will we hear the same message that Barbara Ehrenreich has championed for decades? I doubt it. In fact, I predict that after Clinton or Obama win the Democratic nomination for president, they will swiftly shuffle to the center-right. They will talk about a middle class that doesn't really exist. They will offer tax breaks for couples who earn $50,000 + a year. They will ignore the working poor families who earn too much for federal assistance, but not enough to afford health insurance. They will fall over themselves to offer capital-gains tax cuts. After all, they will be competing against John McCain -- the maverick conservative supply-side nightmare. I still think that Edwards was our best hope to take back the White House, regardless of the critics. I hope I am wrong.

I began my presidential campaign here to remind the country that we, as citizens and as a government, have a moral responsibility to each other, and what we do together matters. We must do better, if we want to live up to the great promise of this country that we all love so much.

When Silence Is Betrayal

For the past few weeks, tributes to the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his civil rights legacy have been airing on commercial and public radio and television stations. You might have noticed that the later years of Dr. King's life and work are virtually ignored by those memorials. When you realize that Dr. King had changed his focus to fighting poverty and calling attention to the moral outrage of the Vietnam War, you can easily see why his activist history seems to end in 1965, and then jumps to his murder in 1968. Politicians and pundits who annually embrace Dr. King's inspiring message of racial harmony and equal opportunity for all, seem to be willfully ignorant of his "Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break Silence" speech delivered at Riverside Church in New York City on April 4th, 1967. After King delivered that speech, he was criticized by the NAACP, the New York Times and the Washington Post editorial pages. The Post wrote that King had "diminished his usefulness to his cause, his country, his people." Despite the attacks, King continued to condemn the moral and economic debacle of the Vietnam War. The country caught up to him soon enough, and the anti-war movement grew in the proceeding years. Perhaps the reason why so many in the media ignore Dr. King's final few years today is that his message is still very relevant to our current situation:

Since I am a preacher by trade, I suppose it is not surprising that I have seven major reasons for bringing Vietnam into the field of my moral vision. There is at the outset a very obvious and almost facile connection between the war in Vietnam and the struggle I, and others, have been waging in America. A few years ago there was a shining moment in that struggle. It seemed as if there was a real promise of hope for the poor -- both black and white -- through the poverty program. There were experiments, hopes, new beginnings. Then came the buildup in Vietnam, and I watched this program broken and eviscerated, as if it were some idle political plaything of a society gone mad on war, and I knew that America would never invest the necessary funds or energies in rehabilitation of its poor so long as adventures like Vietnam continued to draw men and skills and money like some demonic destructive suction tube. So, I was increasingly compelled to see the war as an enemy of the poor and to attack it as such.

Perhaps the more tragic recognition of reality took place when it became clear to me that the war was doing far more than devastating the hopes of the poor at home. It was sending their sons and their brothers and their husbands to fight and to die in extraordinarily high proportions relative to the rest of the population. We were taking the black young men who had been crippled by our society and sending them eight thousand miles away to guarantee liberties in Southeast Asia which they had not found in southwest Georgia and East Harlem. And so we have been repeatedly faced with the cruel irony of watching Negro and white boys on TV screens as they kill and die together for a nation that has been unable to seat them together in the same schools. And so we watch them in brutal solidarity burning the huts of a poor village, but we realize that they would hardly live on the same block in Chicago. I could not be silent in the face of such cruel manipulation of the poor.

 

Christmas in Goa, Part 2

Notes from Blighty – by Chris Cobb

Shortly before we left for Goa, Marina's nephew mentioned that a friend had just returned from Mumbai where he'd gone to have some dental work done. Having just had the work on her own teeth estimated on Carnaby Street at ten thousand pounds plus, Marina was interested and the day after we landed she was at a dentist's office in Candolim. Their price was one-tenth that of Carnaby Street and Marina gave them the green light. After three weeks of intermittent appointments she now, as my Aunt Patsy used to say, 'looks like a million bucks'.

And she wasn't the only one. We became aware that repairing the chops of the westerners was an avowed business strategy of the dentists with a practice in the beach towns (the Indians couldn't afford them) and we bumped into Brits, Swedes and Russians who had traveled to Goa specifically for a new smile and a tan. Notice that all the nationalities mentioned ostensibly have socialized medicine and dentistry. Why would all these folks spend the money? One reason is that few of their national health plans cover cosmetic work; another is that their own dentists have full appointment books and extensive work can take months. In Britain the National Health dentists are becoming harder and harder to find as they scramble to open a private practice and escape the government's red tape. The Goans profit, the patient saves and the strain on the National Health is alleviated; it would seem that dental tourism produces only winners.

If this info is of any interest to you, look for a cheap package deal and spend a couple of weeks alternating between a dentist's chair and a beach chair.

Cookies Baked With Love

Happy Holidays!