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May 3, 2008 - April 26, 2008

Friday, June 08, 2007

STILL ALWAYS RIGHT. The other day, I posed the question of why uniformly pusillanimous Republican senators are suddenly locked in testosterone hyper-drive to ensure another decade of uncontrolled Mexican immigration. My suspicion is that some powerful lobby -- consisting at least in part of huge, privately owned agricultural conglomerates like Cargill -- is offering incentives that far outweigh the risks of political suicide such senators are unquestionably running. The alternative explanations are even more depressing: 1) that the stupidity of Republican bigwigs is so borderline retarded that they imagine themselves earning "Party of Lincoln" loyalty from hispanics by leading millions of illiterate freeloaders to the bottomless trough of federal government largesse; or 2) that they have lived so high on the hog for so long that the only experience they have of Mexican immigration is access to a servant class they can't stand the thought of living without:  a cheap and limitless supply of nannies, gardeners, chauffeurs, mechanics, and saucy upstairs maids.

Truthfully, it's not hard to imagine that John McCain, Lindsey Graham, Michael Chertoff, and the editorial board of the Wall Street Journal haven't ever witnessed the transformation of their own particular Main Street into Tijuana North (except that the thugs and idlers all have more money). And it's correspondingly easy to see how they could look down on it all from a great height -- say, from the seaside bluff of the local yacht club -- and see the whole issue in terms of units of labor and dollars-per-erg.

But President Bush is another matter. He doesn't seem to care much for yacht clubs. He long ago spurned Connecticut and Kennebunkport for East-Jesusville, Texas, where he clears his own brush for heaven's sake. He has absolutely no need to pile up chips for future political gambits. He doesn't need money. And yet. And yet this man, whose greatest single fault has been a gross excess of loyalty to subordinates who have consistently failed him, is so committed to perpetuating the endless flood of illegal immigration from Mexico that he trashed his own most loyal supporters in ways he has never trashed the most vicious of his political enemies on the left. Outraged adherents are screaming, and he doesn't even acknowledge them.

What's up with that? It certainly isn't rational. It is, in fact, a kind of monomania, a blind spot of prodigious proportions. Odd?

Not as odd as all the conservative outrage about his stance on this immigration bill. Because that represents another blind spot: Ours. As with many other decisions and actions that have provoked furious surprise in his opponents, Bush has been honest if not terribly communicative about this aspect of  his persona. Consider the facts.

He was friendly with Vicente Fox long before he became President of the United States. One of his first innovations as president was to deliver the Saturday radio address in Spanish as well as English. His brother served as governor of the other great hispanic stronghold  in America, Florida. That brother has an hispanic wife, which means that our President's nieces and nephews are half-hispanic. And George himself is an adopted son of Texas, which was born of Mexico and has always regarded itself as a semi-independent state, with good reason; the Texas Constitution is the only state constitution that explicitly allows for the possibility of a return to independence.

And there, if you care, is the center of the blind spot. Regardless of his geographical lineage, George W. Bush is a Texan first, even before he is an American. The Spanish language and the Mexican people are part of the lifeblood that nourished the place he calls home -- and they have become part of the lifeblood of his family.

If we overlooked this, or forgot it, or misunderstood it, we have only ourselves to blame. He was always forthright about his desire to include hispanic culture in his own vision of the future of America.

But we are also entitled to see that this is his blind spot. We do not have to accept his policies in this matter for reasons of national loyalty, presidential loyalty, party loyalty, or any other kind of loyalty. We are free to say, if we so choose, that on this particular topic the President of the United States is as nutty as a fruitcake. We are free to say that when it comes to Mexicans, because of his blind spot, George Bush is more Texas patriot than American patriot.

I do say that. I think every other conservative, including those who are presently serving his administration (Tony Snow?!) should also say that.

We all have blind spots. They're especially dangerous in presidents. That's why they have to be called out. And that's why we have to be particularly on guard against those who serve as accomplices in concealing those blind spots from us, whatever their motives may be.

NOW: All you conservative brainiacs! Quit bashing Bush, which won't do a damned thing to help, and start investigating the reasons for the far more disgraceful behavior of McCain, Graham, and company in the travesty we have just been subjected  to.

All your fulminations against Bush on this point are bullshit distractions from the real story you aren't covering.

Put THAT in your pipe and smoke it.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

FROG FUN. It comes in two flavors -- pro and con. There are good examples of both (h/t ColdFury.com) on the web today, and they're both worth talking about. First, there's Bill Maher's provocative essay in Newsweek International. Maher thinks we could learn a lot from the French:


He's got quite a lot more in this vein, much of it focused on the WHO survey that ranks France Number One in the world in healthcare while burying the United States in 37th place.

The other example is Jeff Goldstein's reponse to Maher, which is just as biting:


Goldstein also does a good job of deconstructing the WHO survey on which Maher's argument depends. His post is followed by a huge set-to in the Comments section between the defenders of France and some fairly harsh critics, much of it worth reading.

My own observation is that the amount of emotion expended in such arguments about France has very little to do with France itself and a great deal to do with what one thinks the other guy believes about France. Maher is using the topic of things French to poke a stick in the eye of his own straw-man stereotype of American conservatives. Most hardcore French bashers, on the other hand, aren't as hostile to France as they are to self-styled liberal sophisticates like Maher who see themselves as world-class intellectuals in the tradition of Sartre, Foucault, and Rousseau. It's all cultural war by proxy. And France is, of course, an incredibly picturesque and symbolic backdrop for a war between opposing cultural perspectives.

I believe Bill Maher when he says, "I don't want to be French." His most subtle punchline is his correct assumption that his fiercest critics won't ever believe it.

I also happen to think that both sides of the culture conflict are ill served by choosing France as a theater of war over competing American visions of our national future. There are simply too many disqualifying 'but's' in every instance that make the French experience irrelevant. Hopelessly, completely, permanently irrelevant.

The France they're all talking about doesn't really exist, certainly not as any kind of template for American life, good or bad. France is a small country. We are a huge one. France is an old country with a young constitutional government (all its predecessors having failed for centuries). We are a young country with an old constitutional government. France is ethnically homogeneous with a fairly homogeneous religious minority of immigrants it can't or won't assimilate. We are ethnically heterogeneous with a heterogeneous minority of immigrants, most of whom do or will assimilate successfully. France is located at the heart of the most violent continent in history, while we overwhelmingly dominate the most peaceful continent in history (barring the uninhabited Antarctic). France has a legacy of conquering its neighbors, executing hundreds of thousands of its citizens, and engaging in oppressive colonial actions in the Third World that continue to this day. We have our own legacy of slavery and warfare against the Indians, but if you're into comparing bloodstains, this is an apples-to-oranges comparison without meaning or relevance. France is an exhausted nation with a seriously declining birthrate, and its crimes and misdemeanors on the world stage are those of an aged cynic who has learned to seek every possible personal advantage with the least possible personal risk -- and to hell with all your naive ideals. We are an energetic, growing nation still willing to risk making big mistakes for big rewards.

In this context, the liberal habit of cherry-picking the "good things" about France to fling in the face of conservatives is delusional and counterproductive. They forget that almost no one of any political stripe wants America to be France. The conservative habit of comparing American liberals to the effete French is equally counterproductive. For the most part, the effete liberal Americans who really would like to be French have already moved there. Johnny Depp. Gwyneth Paltrow. Who else?

The one thing France and America have in common is that both are unique. Neither can really be compared to any other nation on earth. In fact, the French-bashing that gets Bill Maher's blood up is a cultural tradition so old that it predates the United States. It's a humorous bequest from the Anglo-Saxon heritage that, like it or not, provided far more input to our Constitution and way of life than the French Enlightenment ever did. Brits have always made fun of the French. Hence, Americans have always made fun of the French. Likewise, the tradition of English-speaking sophisticates who affect superiority over the commoners by embracing all things French is also older than the United States.

It may well be the case that France will confront cultural and administrative problems that superficially resemble our own. But the devil is in the details. Any French approach to problem-solving will be purely French; that is, it will unavoidably involve considerations of French history, government, law, economics, religion, ethnicity, and popular prejudice that will render them useless as an example for America. Liberals, progressives -- whatever they're calling themselves today -- would do well to remember that. This goes as much for health care as it does for foreign policy.

On the other hand, conservative bashers of all things French would do well to remember that this nation they so despise has produced some of the greatest writers, philosophers, artists, architects, generals and armies in recorded human history. If your French-bashing goes beyond humor for the sake of entertainment or clever satire, you're doing yourselves no honor in the process. For example, it's fine to make dozens of jokes about how cowardly the French are, but before you get too carried away, read up on the battle of Verdun in World War I. Less than a century ago, the French army was filled with heroes so stupefyingly brave that they allowed themselves to be wasted by the hundreds of thousands to no real purpose. Read, study the battlefield photographs, and the contemporary accounts of the action -- then, by all means, give us some more cowardly French jokes. That's our birthright as Americans, and will remain so as long as we don't take our jests -- and ourselves -- too seriously.

Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose.

NOTE TO CARL:  The answer you wanted, the thing you missed, was the cinematic reference to the painting at the beginning of this entry.

Immigration Politics:
 

THE WAY OF THE YANKS. I admit there's a temptation to do cheap jokes like this one. But the point I prefer to make on this day goes beyond death, mutilation, and graveyard monuments. What differentiated the generation that fought and won World War II at appalling cost was not the number of their dead but their commitment to a vision of victory. The men who died on D-Day were fighting for the hope that the people they cared most about -- their comrades in arms, their families back home, the nameless millions who suffered vicariously with them via the radio, newsreels, and letters from the front -- would win through to a new confidence in freedom and an exalted sense of joy and faith in their heritage.


Sadly, the thing that makes us lesser than the World War II generation is not the bravery or resolve of the young soldiers who fight for us. That seems to be a constant. The difference lies in our incapacity to imagine and work for a victory that improves the lives of the living more than it pains the families of the dead.

That incapacity is the definition of our growing failure as a nation. If you secretly cheer for bad news from the places our troops are fighting, you do not support the troops, you are not a patriot, and you do not deserve the citizenship you inherited for free at birth. If there are enough of us like you, we are a doomed people who deserve the firestorm our enemies plan for us all.

I hope there are fewer of you than there seem to be.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

REALLY -- PSAYINGS.5A.9 LocoPunk got us thinking yesterday. While we were all writing email to our Senators protesting the coming Z-Visa there was some landscaping being done here in the Southland by people that don't look all that legal -- so, some of us felt conflicted.

But it is time to embrace the future. And -- we have a few ideas.

Once they're available, everyone should get at least one Z-Visa. Ideally, we think that you should get five. We're not sure that you'll want to go down to a clinic, present your Z-Visa, and get medical services, but we're are sure you'll like this idea.

First, give your name a bit of a Spanish flair. For instance, Joseph Mannix could become Jose Manuel. Wear a big straw hat. Put on a fake mustache. Have fun. Be creative. Then, go get a social security number. Now, you are all set. Go get four more for expanded fun and profit. [Note: If it needs to be said -- do not use your real address.]

What you do now is pay Jose out of your business. If you don't have one, start one. Now Jose is going to want a lot of money, so pay him often and mightily. This will produce a loss in your business, or at least reduce the profit of your business thus reducing your income tax bill -- Federal and State in most cases. Go to the bank and cash Jose's checks. Take the money home and store appropriately.

Then, after a year or so, stop paying Jose and go onto the next of your Z-Visas. Repeat. For the next five to seven years you can effectively store up quite a collection of non-sequential, small denomination versions of U.S. currency. The rest is up to you.

If you could do this with $150,000 per year, you would save approximately $60,000 in income taxes. Over five years, that's $300,000.

If anyone comes looking for Jose or Rodrigo or whomever, you simply show them the dutifully kept copies of thier Z-Visas and any other documentation and say, "I haven't seen [insert Spanish name here] for a long time. He did some work for us some time ago, but I haven't seen him lately." Seem like you are recalling a distant relative or former spouse. Work on the line in a mirror. You'll have at least two or three years to practice.

Some of you are saying, "But we don't have a couple of hundred grand to run through a Z-Visa." Not to worry. Just get your Z-Visas and sell your services. You're in the business of returning tax free cash to businesses or individuals who require your service. How about 15 percent? That seems fair. Simply follow the above example. You could use all your Z-Visas in the same year as part of this service. And, you won't even have to talk to any governmental tax collecting personnel. Return the cash to the payor less your fee and there you go. Everybody wins.

Of course, you might not even want to get your hands dirty at all. Just go get the Z-Visas anyway and sell them to the highest bidder. There will be enterprising groups all over the country -- especially in the Southland -- that will gladly pay you for your Z-Visas to be used in the ways identified above and other ways yet to be imagined. Feel free to leave any of your suggestions in the comments section. We're all ears.

Monday, June 04, 2007

PSAYINGS.5A.9. This morning, the Washington Post (h/t Drudge) is telling us that Republican lawmakers in particular are confident they'll be able to pass the big immigration bill.


Okay. Fine. The endangered species called Congressional Republicans apparently does suffer from the death wish Glenn Reynolds alluded to last week. Somehow, they've convinced themselves that this WAPO poll is good news for their own prospects with voters:


I mean, that is the finding that's "really turned things around," isn't it? So what percent of the 44 percent opposed is Republican or conservative? What would you guess?

I've previously referenced Ace of Spades's plan for all immigration bill opponents to formally withdraw from the Republican Party. I will now fearlessly predict that Ace's plan won't work. It requires the participation of politicians who are actually bright enough to recognize when the light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train. The Republican Party doesn't have any politicians like that. Sorry, Ace. It was a nice try.

It's time for Plan B. Let's all jump on the bandwagon. Think about it. Who among us wouldn't enjoy the opportunity for a fresh start devoid of any accountability whatsoever? When the bill is signed into law, let's all go get our own Z-Visas. Pick whatever hispanic name appeals to you and go register. They can't possibly do background checks in 24-hours, so we'll be instantly entitled to all the benefits of being an illegal alien. Cancel your health insurance. You'll get free healthcare at every hospital in the country. Quit paying your property taxes. Your kids are entitled to go to public school anyway. And no matter where they want to attend a state university, they'll qualify for in-state tuition rates. If you get pulled over for a traffic violation, just twirl your mustache and tell the arresting officer how much paperwork he's going to have to do. If he still doesn't let you go, all you have to do is not show up for court and not pay the fine. Best of all, when it comes time to file your income tax return with the IRS, don't do it. If the heat really gets serious (Ha ha. It's ICE we're talking about here...), just move temporarily to a big city like New York or San Francisco, and every cop on the force will be your accomplice in escaping your pursuers. It's perfect.

The only way they could ever catch you is if you decided you wanted to be an American citizen, and why on earth would you ever sign up for a silly program like that? We've already been American citizens, and so we know better. Life with a Z-Visa is going to be the best deal on the planet. Heck, it won't be more than one or two election cycles before we'll even be able to vote for our favorite politicians, and then we'll be able to write our own ticket for how much more free stuff we want.

Cool? No.

Muy bueno? Si.

Saturday, June 02, 2007

DAD. A week ago, I told you about Andrew barking at turkeys. I didn't tell you about how incredibly handsome Andrew is, or about the broken rib that sticks out from his side like a burr. We don't know why he's so timid, but he is. Apart from barking at turkeys and goldfinches, he can't seem to bring himself to meet anyone. He won't take food -- not even an irresistible treat -- from anyone's hand.

All we do know is that Andrew is a sweet, gorgeous boy, and he succeeded an incredibly beautiful greyhound named Patrick, who was the fastest thing to a hundred yards anyone here has ever seen -- and who had the gravest, most dignified personality anyone here has ever seen.


I saw Patrick explode out of the box and do the hundred in about three seconds.. I saw Patrick racing in the yard, changing direction 180 degrees in an instant just for the hell of it. He weighed 80 pounds, because he was always fit as a fiddle, and the only time he ever lost his temper was when a 95-lb greyhound at the park growled at his deerhound. Patrick curled his lip and flexed his massive thigh muscles. The other greyhound hid behind his mommy. I would have done that too. It was always clear that he was faster than the lovely Molly, because she never had that explosiveness except when somebody was holding  a cheeseburger or a potato chip.

Now it turns out that you can get the complete history and pedigree of your greyhounds from the internet, with nothing more to go on than the tattoos in their ears. It was no surprise at all that Molly lost all her races. Beautiful as she is, she still would have preferred any opportunity at food to winning a mere race. Patrick won four times, though. Amazing to me, because his forte was so clearly the hundred yard dash. Anything more than that and it would be so easy to see him issuing perfunctory statements to the press about how there would be no records this year because he'd strained a leg or a thigh and would have to do a month of rehab on the weight machines.

Only Andrew never ran a single race.Which makes him the ultimate softy. Except that his daddy was the final proof of why Andrew was a timid barker rather than a racer. Nobody could live up to Andrew's Daddy. Here's the record of the dog called the Dominator, Andrew's papa: He ran 148 races, and he won 63 of them. Jeez.  How could anyone compete with that?

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