Pardon me, I’d like to make a couple points about domestic political current events for a moment, then I’ll stop. It’s not what this blog’s about, but I feel I need to speak about something.

The honorable, admirable, and astute John Cole posted a warning about the Health Care Reform bill working its way through the legislative lower intestine we call The Senate:

So it should be clear. If you are thinking that you can kill this bill and come back with a better one, you are fooling yourself. It is this, or it is nothing for decades, and that is why folks like Rockefeller and Sherrod Brown and Ron Wyden and other folks are sucking it up and still supporting the bill.

Okay, so the message is clear, it’s this or nothing. Now, I certainly understand that nothing is bad news. We’re in dire straits here as far as health care in America goes. But, I’m sorry, it doesn’t mean that I automatically have to support this, whatever this is.

And here’s the thing about what’s left of this: they’ve taken out any chance of a public option or expanding Medicare, but they’ve left in the mandate, the part that says that I’m legally obligated to purchase health insurance. It’s not that I don’t understand the concept of risk pools, and that it only becomes financially viable to insure everyone if everyone, healthy and sick alike, pays into the pool. But here’s my problem with this arrangement.

If I want a cell phone, I will have to enter into a contract with a giant bastard of a corporation that will fuck me in a heartbeat if it means they clear an extra fifty cents. But it is still my choice whether or not I want to have a phone. By the same token, if I want to own a car and operate it on public roads, the law requires me to purchase insurance from, again, a company that wouldn’t hesitate to do me wrong if they thought it was legal and in their best interest to do so. But I don’t have to buy a car if I don’t want to.

But the thrust of a mandate (without providing a publicly administrated alternative) is that I, by virtue of my existence and citizenship, am legally obligated to throw myself into the maw of an industry that’s been proven time and time again to be one of the most immoral, unethical, exploitive, parasitic industries in the corporate world. And, sure, it will make health care accessible to folks that currently can’t afford it… by way of a framework through which the American Taxpayer can subsidize poor and lower-middle class families. Isn’t that snazzy, how it creates a second pipeline from the pockets of those of us that aren’t bankrupt yet into the coffers of private health insurance companies. How awesome is that for a “reform” bill, thanks Democrats!

The answer is obvious, and it’s not to make the Health Insurance Industry work better. Congressman Weiner is absolutely correct on this score, health insurance companies give no value to the system. If we’re going to make healthcare available to everyone, then let’s make it a goddam public utility. And if we need everyone to chip in, then take it out of my check with the rest of the fucking taxes. And if these sorry sons-of-bitches in both parties can’t come around to representing the best interests of the American People because they’re all too dependent on revenue streams from the Health Insurance and Pharmaceutical Industries, then they all deserve to burn.

But the bill that’s coming out of the Senate is no more a “reform” of the Health Insurance Industry than are the “reforms” being crafted by Obama’s Economic Team of Rubinite Wall Street Gangsters. And I’m supposed to be scared of Sarah Fucking Palin? With Democrats like these, who needs Republicans!

I swear to God, if this steaming shitpile of a bill becomes law, I will dedicate all the money, time and effort I can spare into throwing as many different size wrenches as I can into every political machine that helped bring it to pass. If this thing fails, it fails, but I’m not going to support this goddam thing, and I’m sure as hell not going to be a pawl in the Rightward Ratchet. Fuck that.

[UPDATE]: Evidently, Kevin Drum and Matt Yglesias wish that lots of us that are potentially going to have to eat this shit sandwich would learn to go along to get along and pass the fucking thing. John Cole & Co.are apoplectic that anyone would decide that this thing has crossed a line over which they can’t get behind it.

But here’s Kevin in practically the same breath saying:

The individual mandate was a way of getting support from the insurance industry. The backroom deal with Big Pharma was a way of getting support from the drug industry. The change in Medicare reimbursement rates was a way of getting support from doctors. The gutting of the Medicare commission was a way of getting support from hospitals. Provisions related to biologics, home healthcare, and the prescription drug doughnut hole were a way of getting the support of AARP.

So all these interest groups get huge concessions, that ultimately entrench their power even more deeply while giving Americans a bigger, harder punch in the face, so that they’ll get on board. But I’m supposed to sit on my hands and ignore the fact that the parts of the bill that would have enacted real reform have been decimated, and that what’s left includes a provision to feed me to private insurance companies like so much shark chum, without bothering to so much as inconvenience said companies with a strong, strict regulatory framework. Huh.

Again, fuck that.

[UPDATE AGAIN]: Just so.

Via Dennis Perrin, who remains justifiably skeptical that there’s Hope for Change, a perfectly simple solution:

…the market capitalization—the value of all the outstanding stock—of the publicly traded health insurers is about $150 billion. Add a little premium to sweeten the pot and you could nationalize the lot of them for about $200 billion. The total administrative costs of the U.S. healthcare system, which are greatly inflated by all the paperwork and second-guessing of docs’ decisions generated by the insurance industry, are about $400 billion a year. Those administrative costs are about three times what a Canadian-style single payer system would cost. So that means we’d save about $250 billion a year by eliminating the waste caused by our private insurance system.

In other words, the nationalization could pay for itself in well under a year.

Ding! We have a winner!

Oh, and in case you’re wondering what the hell kind of socialist I am: I’m the kind that thinks health care falls ought to fall into the same category of public service as your local fire department, that’s all. I’d also like to be over and done with the way we do health insurance today, and I can’t understand why anyone is defending such a disgusting, avaricious industry. (You think we don’t already have death panels?)

Via MinusCar, a group of Iowans have started an online petition, seeking to put a measure on the ballot to make bicycling on farm-to-market roads illegal. Because, you know, when you’re driving along on a back country road in your minivan, just trying to send a text message to your husband or pastor, and you accidentally kill a cyclist, it really makes you feel bad. And not just for a little while! Sometimes you feel really, really bad about killing someone with your car for a long time! Plus, just like hitting a deer, it can cost a lot of money to fix the car.

A commenter notes that there is now a counter-petition to have motor vehicles removed from Iowa’s rural roads:

Over the past ten years the number of motorists using these farm-to-market roads has increased dramatically, as have the number of preventable accidents and fatalities.

Traditional rural methods of commerce are significantly impacted when forced to share the farm-to-market roadways with motorists. Because of the growth of today’s commerce and agricultural business, shared roadways are no longer safe or practical in today’s society.

Operators of automobiles routinely disobey speed limits, spook horses and raise clouds of dust. They zip about, and act as though they own the public road itself!

So please if you are a resident of the world join us and help make our roadways safe for both people and livestock. Thanks for your time and your support.

My favorite comment so far:

These 4 wheeled horseless carriges have gone too far, besides creating useless wars for rubber, oil, steel they create a place for youths to experiment with sex and liquor! Time to ban them from all our roads!

Sex and liquor? Really? Hm. Maybe I should drive a car more often.

I know that saying this may result in some gnashed teeth and rent garments, but I’m going to state, unequivocally, that I think this is going too far. I’m reasonably certain that Iowa’s rural roads can accomodate bicycles, tractors, buckboards, and motor vehicles, and that people can share the road safely and responsibly.

Maybe the folks on opposite sides of this debate need to get together, and experiment with sex and liquor (maybe even in a car, so long as they’re not driving on a rural road at the time). I mean, it couldn’t hurt?

In 2002, it’s estimated that cellphone use while driving may have caused a thousand deaths, and maybe as many as 240,000 accidents. Nearly a quarter million accidents. But you never heard about it, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration decided to withhold data and research about the dangers of cellphone use while driving, because they thought it might anger Congress. God damn it.

In the 7 years since 2002, when that data could have led to stronger legislation protecting us from cellphoning drivers, my anecdotal observations suggest that that the number of folks talking and texting behind the wheel has gone nothing but up. If all those people replaced their phones with fucking martinis, I don’t think they’d be as dangerous. In fact, if we’re not going to risk inconveniencing voters who enjoy talking and texting while driving, or upsetting the cellphone industry, then we ought to take the boot off the neck of the alcohol industry and let people buzz on up before (and during!) the long drive to the mall. I mean, if it’s going to be a Deathrace, then I’m gonna need a drink.

And I’ll say this to you multi-tasking motorists I share our nation’s Capital with: I’m not crazy about your reckless, thoughtless habit of talking on the phone while you should be piloting your car, but if it’s a choice between that and having you attempt to type out a message on a numeric keypad while you blast through my neighborhood at 40 mph, please just call whoever it is you absolutely have to talk to right this very minute.

The president issued an order yesterday to stop the military tribunals at Guantanimo. This stood out for me.

Following Monday’s hearings, the Office of the Military Commissions held a press conference with several 9/11 family members, who had reportedly been selected by lottery to travel to the base to attend the hearings. Visibly angry, and holding up large photographs of their relatives who died on 9/11, they appealed to President Obama to keep Guantánamo open.

“Today we were in the presence of true evil,” said Donald Arias, who lost his brother Adam in the attack on the World Trade Center. “Mr. Obama needs to reexamine his decision and keep these tribunals going.”

Joe Holland, who lost his son in the World Trade Center, trembled with rage as he took the podium.

“My name is Joe Holland and I lost my son in 9/11,” he said. “When I said I was coming down here, people asked me what they could do. I said, ‘Write a letter to Obama saying that this place should stay open.’”

When journalists asked Holland about the possibility of trying the 9/11 suspects in federal court, he replied, “No, right here, at Guantánamo,” then excused himself from the podium as he fought back tears.

Report after report concludes that most of the people we held at Guantanamo were never affiliated with Al Qaida, weren’t picked up on any battlefield, and were being held for little or no reason, which means we were destroying lives and families across the globe in response to 9/11. I mean, put aside from the odd Taliban foot soldier who was conscripted, never understood what was happening to him, but finds himself imprisoned a world away from his family with no hope of escaping the Kafkaesque nightmare we’ve created. Perhaps you can’t stir up sympathy for anyone that picked up a gun for the Taliban. Fine. What about the fucking Uyghurs, that everyone, everyone, understood weren’t even peripherally involved? What about the fact that 18 Uyghurs were held in isolation for years and years in Cuba? Why isn’t Donald Arias concerned about that, and how can he be certain that he’s in the presence of “true evil” knowing any of that?

Some of the detainees were undoubtedly involved in planning or executing attacks against the U.S., but since we stepped over every bright line of human rights during their interrogations, bringing them to a fair, legitimate trial will be impossible. Maintaining the moral integrity and legitimacy of our judicial process is a prerequisite to bringing the perpetrators of 9/11, as well as terrorists we may apprehend in the future, to justice. But Joe Holland apparently doesn’t think this is important, or at least, doesn’t think it’s important in cases involving people even remotely suspected of involvement in the attack that killed his son.

And that, folks, is why victims of violent crime should never, ever be able to weigh in on how justice is best served. You can’t blame these people for being in pain, or for the depth and breadth of their grief. If I lost any member of my family to violence, I imagine I would be similarly consumed by heartbreak, rage, and vengeance. I am, after all, human.

By the same token, you can’t expect these folks to think rationally about what’s fair and just. I’m not saying that these families, or victims of violence generally, can’t overcome fear and anger to see clearly, but it shouldn’t be surprising if they can’t, and we certainly shouldn’t be asking their advice on how to proceed. It’s a circus sideshow, and the military folks that brought them down to Cuba to stir them up in front of the press ought to be deeply ashamed of themselves.

The makings of another shit sandwich, left by George W. Bush, for all of us to figure out how to eat. Thanks for that, George, and bon apetit America.

My favorite moment during yesterday’s festivities came while watching the swearing-in and post-swearing-in speech, I realized I was needlessly bracing myself for cringes that weren’t going to happen. There were no ‘Nookyuller’ moments, nothing about putting food on my family, and I realized that I could relax a bit. Then, a little while later, I realized (again) that President Obama is not simply an adequate speaker that won’t embarrass us with his grammar and pronunciation, but that he’s an excellent speaker that leaves one feeling better than they did before he delivered the speech. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve enjoyed seeing a presidential speech delivered, that was really nice.

And you know, I thought my farewell feelings for Bush would have been angrier, but they weren’t. I just can’t attribute as much evil to the guy as I can to someone like, for example, Kissinger. There’s a lot of people in Washington that are sharp, informed, and experienced enough to know what kind of evil they’re unleashing on the country and the world, after 8 years I’m not convinced that George W. Bush is one of them.

Cheney, by contrast, I expected to be sent back to wherever he came from via a circled pentagram drawn with magic powder on the floor of a red-walled room in the White House’s deepest basement room. Ya know what I mean? Like the kind of room where the door is made with 8″ oak timbers, and has a small window with thick, wrought iron bars and a message carved into it in Latin?

But now that they’re gone, I wish them a pleasant retirement and beseech them both to resist any temptations to come out of it. For anything. Neither of them should probably do any vacationing near The Hague, for that matter.

So, the first real ride of this glorious new America, a seemingly routine commute in to work this morning, was in the 20 degree range, but the wind was light and the sun shone brightly. After I made egg sammiches for the family, Rebbie and I rode together to drop Ruby off at school, which was a rare treat, and then I headed in to work solo. I did add a quarter mile to the trip finding out why North Capitol was completely closed off south of Washington Hospital Center in both directions. Evidently there was a fire on the west side of North Capitol, just south of Adams, that required a bunch of pumpers and a lot of water. And you know what happens when you spray the street with a few acre-inches of water in the early morning hours of a 20 degree day? You guessed it, a sheet of ice between a quarter-inch and an inch thick for about 3-4 blocks, but with formations like you’d expect to see close to a recent lava flow. So if your north-south or south-north commute this morning seemed way, way worse than usual, don’t blame the out-of-towners.

After that, the ride was wonderful. Not just wonderful like, zippy and without confrontation. Wonderful like, just this side of Sister Maria running and singing across Austrian mountain meadows. You see, last weekend I replaced my old drop bars with Nitto Noodle Bars, and my first impression after riding them for more than two test blocks is that these bars are alive with the Sound of Music. They’re nice and wide, and the top section is swept back a bit, about as much as my wrists need to feel perfectly natural. The ramps behind the brake levers are almost flat and super comfy, and the drops are dreamy. Every place on them is a usable hand position, and all the ones I’ve found so far have been really comfy. Seems like something I should review after I’ve had more time with it, more on that later.

All in all, I gotta say, it’s been a great weekend, great couple days, and it’s so good to wake up in Obama’s America. I’m not a fanboy or anything, but at some point early in Bush’s second term, I kinda started believing deep down that it was never going to end, and that this day would never come. It’s here, and it brought Noodle Bars with it. Rad.

How were your Inaugural Festivities?

The issues surrounding Israel’s recent attacks in Gaza are swirling and complex, and I don’t know if anyone can even say the words “Israel” and “Gaza” in the same sentence these days without inspiring spittle-flecked invective from both sides of the perceptual chasm.

My own view is that both sides hate each other more than they love their own children, and that this will continue until that’s no longer the case. I’m also not happy that my money’s purchasing weapons that will ultimately keep the fire burning bright and hot. I also realize that, as an American, despite the fact that I was as opposed to the strategy and tactics of the GWOT as anyone could be, I have zero moral authority or credibility when it comes to counseling other nations to resist the temptation to lash out with violent, irrational military responses to attacks by a handful of extremists.

I also despise the language people use to talk about military action. The terms “fighting”, “kick ass”, “defend (one’s) self”, and even “strength” are terms appropriately used when discussing a bar brawl, where two violent actors punch and kick each other until one or both have had enough. They have no place in honest conversations and arguments in which children are blown up or immolated by modern weapons of war, and I find the practice (especially by Americans) disgusting.

One thing that I do know, though, is that Max Blumenthal is a fucking bad-ass.

(h/t Dennis Perrin)

You’ve got a big decision to make tomorrow, citizen.

There’s a lot to think about as we approach this historic election. There’s more than one dire problem to solve, more than a few turds hurtling towards the blades of a big, angry fan, more to be resolved with higher stakes than ever before.

We’re mired in geopolitical conflict, and the way home is difficult to find, harder to navigate. We’re hooked on an energy source that’s dirty, expensive, and often comes at the cost of supporting some nefarious organizations. Our economy is shaky, fragile, and everyone’s looking over their shoulder for the axe to fall. Health care is skyrocketing, and getting sick often means bankruptcy. Bridges are falling into rivers, cities are falling apart, our manufacturing base is much diminished, and the guy you’re trying to order that Bacon Cheeseburger from doesn’t seem to speak much English.

What will be in store for America as we enter the next chapter in our history? Which candidate is better equipped to handle these challenges? What’re we gonna do?!

I know that when I ponder issues of these magnitudes, I try to imagine how the best of our presidents would tackle them. I contemplate Washington’s moral rectitude, Jefferson’s master statesmanship, Teddy’s cunning diplomacy, FDR’s inspiring leadership. Ultimately, the path of my meditation will lead to Lincoln, whose counsel is always the same.

You’ve got a big decision to make tomorrow, Superstar.