National Identification Cards

I see that there is a renewed push to standardize state ID's. The usual suspects are griping about it paving the way for a national ID card. I really don't understand some of the pet causes of civil libertarians (even when I was a libertarian I never did get the objections to this one). I have always supported a national ID card, along with legislation mandating that it be carried at all times. In the old days people where known in their communities, making such things redundant, but now it is not so. If the police collar a miscreant, they might have no idea who he is. If they knew that failing to carry an ID only would add to their sentence, they would carry it.

Civil Libertarian types need to just sit down, take some deep breaths and repeat a hundred times:

"A national ID does not amount to taking away our freedom."
"A national ID does not amount to taking away our freedom."
And so on.

To paraphrase my grandmother, "if you want to whine about your freedom being taken away, then come here and I will give you something to whine about!"

Believe!
Obey!
Fight!

The Netherworlds Sinks Further into Swampdeutsch Depravity

I admit it. I am a bit of a bigot. I am prejudiced against Germanic culture. Being half German, I absolutely thankful to St. Boniface for his role in bringing down the most horrid manifestations of Germanic culture (yes, I do mean that Earth-afirming, mother worshipping, oh yeah, human sacrificing, proto-Nazi death cult paganism that postmodern hippies seem to think was so groovy).

And yet I do make distinctions of horridness of Germanic culture. At the best, you have the civilized Germans: speakers of Hoch Deutsch, Romanized, capable of producing great art, music, literature, and pork products. Even higher than the Rheinland Deutsch, where my ancestors come from, are the Bavarians and Austrians. Although watch us closely, as history has shown, we can go as bad as the worst of them. And to make matters worse, we will spill gallons of ink debating the whys and hows of it afterwards (I tried to endure a seminar on the "German Question" at UCSC. It was part of the History of Consciousness program. I think I lasted about 15 minutes. ACH!).

Below the civilized Germans you have the Scandinavians: gotta love their gingerbread, Ibsen, hardanger fiddle, and architecture (not to mention IKEA), but you always get the feeling that the Viking roots are beginning to show again. Another generation of secularization and I expect them to lose all decency and to pillage Ireland again.

At the lowest level of Germanic culture you get the Swamp Germans and their Island Dwelling Cousins, the Englisch. Since I normally pick on the Englisch, even though they have been on pretty good behavior these last few decades (for savages, that is), and I have been enjoying Chaucer a lot these days, I will give them a break here. Also, when the good Germans went bad 60 or 70 years ago, the Englisch did their duty and put them back in their place. Also, Prince Charles really seems a decent chap. Good painter, staunch traditionalist. If he became Catholic, I would probably wear a Union Jack pin for a week.

The dwellers of the Netherworld, on the other hand, seem to be intent on earning their name. Some day the collective marihuana and recidual post-Calvinism might wear off and they may decide to return to the fold of Western Civilization, but until then, go read this abominable story and come back and tell me why it matters that they were liberated from the Germans. Or tell me why we needed to stop Hitler and Saddam and we should just sit idly by and allow these monsters (or is it maansteers?) to continue.

I was just at the Crocker Art Museum in Sacramento this weekend. They have some wonderful second-rate Dutch paintings (in other words, good works by "student of Rembrandt" and the like). One of the popular genres of the Dutch artists were depictions of depravity with stern warnings attached. "You see, Jaap, if you go out to the tavern, this scene of bedlam will become all that is left of your family!"

Of course the patrons of this kind of art were less interested in the warnings than the depravity. And thus enters the deadly dualism of Calvinism. Eventually comes the rationalization of how this is different than that, and, well, so long as you aren't a Papist, anything goes! When the strictures of the old Calvinism go away, all you have left is the sickest and the lowest, but now exalted as compassion and tolerance.

It seems to be coming to a head in the Netherwolrds, and I really do hope that they come out on top. I enjoy the place. I like their food, their music, their art, especially their art, their language (can you say Kaatzenjammer? I knew you could), and their stubborn clinging to some of the least habitable land in Europe. However, they are going to be facing the hardest struggle of all to return to the good of their culture, and sinking to the level of euthanizing babies does not point in the right direction.

Hat tip to Cacciaguida for the link.

It's Over, Grandma

The title of this post is the last line of The Triplets of Belleville, which has become a favorite in our household. Of course, in this context, I mean the election and my commenting on it (at least for now).

So, since bullfighting season is over, it will be back to recipes, art, and music.

John Salmon left an interesting suggestion for my fantasy art show: propaganda art. I have a soft spot for good propaganda art (particularly posters), and could see this as a great show. My favorites of vintage agitprop come from the early days of the Russian Revolution, before Lenin turned against modern art. Most Social Realism leaves me cold, but those early Roosky Commies had style. If only they applied it to marketing vermouth or something.

Of course I cannot praise Commie agitprop without giving a nod to the Italian Futurists and their relationship with Il Duce. My favorite bust of Mussolini comes from the Futurists, and I also remember a great series of plates that commemorated the Fascist Revolution.

Of course my favorite period of Modern European History (in terms of reading about it - it really would have been better if it did not have to happen at all) is the Spanish Civil War. For propaganda art, the Commies probably won, but they were not all that solid (no, I don't count Picasso, because he didn't do that much of it, and La Guernica only works as propaganda if you know the title. If it had been called Dresden, the painting could still be read exactly the same. And come to think of it, La Guernica works as a painting by shortchanging its propagandistic intent (see also Brecht, Bertolt)). The Nationalists really did not have a good body of propadanda art, although the arrows with yoke is a marvelous logo.

In America we have had some good propaganda art, particularly in the Labor movement. Some of the sixties stuff wasn't bad, but they were already going down the road of unfairly subjecting the art to the message.

Unfortunately what we have for mainstream art nowadays is all propoganda with very little art. It does sadden me that the folks who gave us the "Internationale" have degenerated into Judy Chicago.

Of course I have to agree with Robert Hughes on the complete uselessness of message painting. I don't think anyone has ever been converted to any political system by a painting. Sure the party faithful will find a resonance, but I don't think that there is a work of art in the world that can make a rational person decide that their understanding of the body politic needs adjustment.

And I am glad that that is the case. I would fear anyone of any political persuassion who used a painting as a political argument.

But, as I have said before, content in art is secondary to composition (under which heading I have to place color - sorry to all of you who are still fighting the war between the classicists and the colorists) and personal introspection (the much harder thing to quantify in art criticism).

Good propaganda art, then, allows good composition by providing a framework for the artist to work around, just as the sonata allegro form does not make the music but gives a structure for the composer. However, man is a political animal, so it would be daft to demand an apolitical art. Art and politics will always intersect, or at least nod to one another as they pass in the night. The best we can hope for is that the politics informs the art without crushing it outright.

Anyway, this notion of a fantasy art show is a good one, so think one up. Here is one for you to ponder:

Representations of coffee in art. Coffee cups, with or without fur. Cafes. Plein air paintings of coffee plantations. Commercial art on coffee labels. The design of espresso machines. Intricately worked ibriks from Turkey.

OK. Time to Leave

I am not a love it or leave it sort of person, but there were a lot of folks who claimed that they were going to move to Canada if Bush won. Well? Bye. Don't slam the door on your way out!

I am celebrating, but not the election of Bush. Rather I am rejoicing that Kerryman lost. He was a creep and the world is much better off that he will not be the President of the United States.

Why am I not celebrating Bush?

Because I am skeptical. He now has a mandate, his supporters clearly voted for him on moral issues, he has a Republican Congress, homosex marriage was barred in 11 states. There can be no more excuses. Herr Bush, du bist jetzt dran. Ball's in your court.

To my fellow conservative Catholics who supported Bush, let this be the litmus test. If Bush fails, then we have a moral duty to treat the party of Gubernator von Kennedy with the same disgust and disdain that we treat the party of Barbara Lee.

I wish Herr Bush the best, but I am not expecting much. We need to be harder on him than ever. There is no room for excuses. Beware of pseudo-conservatives.

Erik's Rants and Recipes 2004 General Election Endorsements

I finally waded through everything last night, so here are my eleventh hour endorsements. Print this out and take it to the booth with you.

President and Vice President: George W. Bush and Richard Cheney. Note that this is a fairly lukewarm endorsement. Do not think that a vote for Bush is a vote for the Culture of Life. Rather it is a vote against an even bigger player in the Culture of Death. When it comes down to it, all of the third parties are deficient. The Greens, Peace and Freedom, Libertarians and Democrats are obviously out. The American Independent/Constitution Party is profoundly Protestant in its foundation and will do more to harm the common good than the Republicans.

United States Senator: Bill Jones. I do not like the man, but he is not Barbara Boxer.

Ninth Congressional District: Claudia Bermudez. She seems pretty good, but most importantly, she is not Barbara Lee. Come to think of it, I might be calling for a ban on the name Barbara pretty soon, given Boxer, Lee and Streisand.

State Senator, Ninth District: Patricia Deutsche. Fairly wanky, but not nearly as bad as Don Perata.

Member of the State Assembly, Sixteenth Assembly District: Jerald Udinsky.

AC Transit District Director, At Large: H. E. Christian Peeples. This current director is firmly committed to public transit and has a decent record.

AC Transit Disctrict Director, Ward 2: Greg Harper. Doing a good job, and his opponent is the head of the Transit Union, which is akin to asking the fox to guard the henhouse.

East Bay Municipal Utility District Director, Ward 6: no recommendation

Proposition 1A: NO. Watch for hidden items in this bipartisan bill.

Proposition 59: NO. Open meetings sound fine and dandy, but these sorts of propositions are like snakes that come around and bite you when you have them by the tale.

Proposition 60: NO.

Proposition 61: NO. An expensive omnibus of special interests, putting childrens' hospitals on the top in order to twang the heart strings. We have a serious financial crisis in the state, and this will not help.

Proposition 62: NO. This will only encourage more centrism.

Proposition 63: NO. This bill will further erode California's tax base, leaving us holding the bag for programs we can no longer afford.

Proposition 64: YES. Renegade lawyers are destroying small businesses. Put a stop to the John Edwardses of California.

Proposition 65: NO.

Proposition 66: NO. California's Three Strikes law needs fine tuning. This measure proposes surgical changes with a chain saw. Contrary to the Prop 66 propoganda, there is already a lot of discression allowed judges and prosecutors at every level of sentencing as to whether or not to prosecute a third strike. Talking about "bad check writers" being in prison overlooks the other felonies that got them there. We are not talking about the person who once in awhile bounces a check, but a felon who is frauduently undermining our fiscal system on a fairly massive scale. Anyway, most of the people who will be potentially freed by this are not bad check writers, but arsonists, attempted child rapists who were caught before they actually did the deed, and assorted bad lots who need to be locked up.

Proposition 67: NO. Another tax to support a vague list of health-related boondogles. Our health care system needs real fixing, not bandaids like this.

Proposition 68: NO. I don't like the fact that Ahnuld von Kennedy is gubernator, but he has been playing hardball with the Indians, and this could seriously undermine his work in this area.

Proposition 69: YES. A DNA database will help prove the innocence of unfairly incarcerated people. It will help track down serious criminals. It only collects this information from felons, not the general population. Libertarian privacy issues are nothing more than paranoid ravings from the usual suspects.

Proposition 70: NO. 99 Year compacts?!? Forget about it.

Propostion 71: NO. Why can't the public see that the "Nobel Laureates" who support this are basically another special interest looking to line their pockets with $6 billion of public funds at the expense of the most vulnerable members of our society? These Mengeles are taking advantage of liberal pro-abortion pro-endarkenment sentiment to push this wholly evil proposition.

Proposition 72: NO. Another ill-though-out measure that will destroy out economy.

Bay Area Rapid Transit District Measure AA: YES. Arguing that we have not had an earthquake in 30 years is about as dumb as building a village between Mt. Vesuvius and Pompei. We need the seismic upgrades, and soon.

City of Oakland Measure Y: NO. A ludicrously high property tax assessment that will go mostly to a whole host of social workers and their ilk in a bunch of misguided "violence prevention" programs.

City of Oakland Measure Z: NO. Let Soviet Monica do the lobbying for legal marijuana. Oakland has better things to spend its money on.

AC Transit Special District 1 Measure BB: YES. We have a pretty good bus system in the East Bay, and we rely on it heavily, even if we don't use it (think of all the cars that could clog up I-580 at rush hour). This is a very modest parcel tax ($2 per month) to support and improve a good system.

East Bay Regional Park District Zone 1 Measure CC: YES. The Regional Parks are part of what make the East Bay a livable region. I can drive five minutes and be in a redwood forest, looking at fish in the stream where the rainbow trout was first identified as a species. However, the parks need some infrastructural improvement that will benefit all of us. The list of projects that will be funded by this measure are worthy ones, and will make the park experience even better. The modest parcel tax ($1 a month) will come back to property owners, because these parks make our cities much better places to live.

Presidential Election

I have still been far too busy to read through the ballot, so my full endorsements will have to wait. I did find this quick quiz courtesy of Fr. Tucker, so I filled it out:

1. Your ideal theoretical candidate. (100%)
2. Bush, President George W. - Republican (84%)
3. Badnarik, Michael - Libertarian (48%)
4. Kerry, Senator John, MA - Democrat (44%)
5. Peroutka, Michael - Constitution Party (34%)
6. Cobb, David - Green Party (12%)
7. Nader, Ralph - Independent (12%)
8. Brown, Walt - Socialist Party (10%)

I never would have guessed that anyone could score lower than Nadir on my list. I am also a bit surprised that the Libertine, I mean, Libertarian scored higher than the Constitution Party, although I tend to see both groups as kooky manifestations of decadent liberal democracy.

So, with that bit of fun done, it is time for me to get back to work! Full political conversation next week (I am driving a support vehicle for a giant relay race this weekend and will be out of Internet contact).

This is great!

Jeff Koons is probably my least favorite living artist. It actually makes me cringe to call him an artist. Says here that he is against Bush.

There is much more to this article, which is a thought-provoking read, though. Go read it yourself!

Elections and The Erik's Rants and Recipes Endorsements

First, let me say this about the elections:

Absentee voting is wrong. So is extending the voting to a two week period. Voting in National Elections should be an event, like the old Roman census, where you return to your hometown for a couple of days and vote, in person.

Frankly, most of you know what I really would like to see happen to National Elections: end them all. The framers of the Constitution got it right when they made the Federal Government a concern of the state governments, not the ordinary schlump (technical term).

But if we have to have every man, woman and dunderhead pulling levers, pushing buttons, scratching under his armpit and trying to figure out which one of those letter combinations spells "Kerryman", then let's at least have some ceremony about it. Jacket and tie requirements, natch. Hats must be worn to, but removed in, the polling place. The box of ballots must be picked up by an armed honor guard in shiny helmets. Then, all bars should have 2 for 1 specials. All night.

But instead, not only do we have to have women and 18 year olds voting (gasp! sputter! cough!), we get to prolong the misery for two weeks.

Therefore, my original plan to post my endorsements next week has been bumped up. I will do it sometime this week.

Please note that if you are not a Californian, I will not be giving endorsements of your local issues. In fact, I will only be tackling the Oakland local issues (maybe the San Francisco ones if I have time to do my homework).

Har har har!

Just reading today's blog comments I see that John lists Andrew Sullivan as one of his favorite cartoon characters. Oh how true.

I have pretty much given up on Sullivan (actually, I rarely read any neo-con pundit anymore, as they just infuriate me), so I would not count him as my favorite, but he is indeed a cartoon character.

Along those lines, I would have to list my alter-ego, President Richard Milhous Nixon, as a favorite character. Or at least as my favorite Quaker.

Speaking of bizarre cults, I am getting sick and tired of Falun Gong acting like all they are is a stretching program. They were part of the Italian Heritage (read Columbus Day, but with a name that does not offend the natives) Parade. Believe me, anyone who dabbles in Falun Gong nonsense automatically loses any claim to Italian heritage. But these folks, with their calm monotone voiceover on the PR system and their matching yellow outfits, are creepy. Really creepy. Creepy as in "I'd like you to read some literature and possibly put a green pod in your backyard" creepy.

One of the people I was watching the parade with said, "oh, the Chinese Scientologists." Would you like a personality test to go with your tai chi?

I rarely praise commies, and even rarer is the day when I praise commie governments, but the People's Republic of China is right to smell a nasty rat in Falun Gong. Unfotunately, they smell nasty rats in Catholics, but they are right in smelling one in Falun Gong.

I can just imagine the next time I see a rat in a yellow suit slowly waving his hands at me and telling me to read some literature.

PS You might see their material calling itself Falun Dafa. It is the same thing, and it is all creepy stuff.

The Debate

In spite of multiple attempts to avoid it, I ended up hearing and watching the debate tonight. I admit that I don't like George W. Bush. I voted against Gore more than I voted for Bush, even though it was W's box that I checked. I will probably do so again.

One person who mitigates my displeasure of the current administration is Dick Cheney. He is the best man in the administration, and I would vote for him for President in a second. Tonight he lived up to my expectations against the loathesome Senator from the Confederacy. Good Show, Veep! Please consider running for President yourself.

As for John Kerryman, the less said the better. Voting against him will be a pleasure.

After the debates the news came on with some good footage of Mt. St. Helens and the sad news that Rodney Dangerfield died. I have to admit that I liked him, although his schtick got old after not too long. He was a funny guy, he just needed some new writers.

Speaking of comedians, if you are looking for a way to rile up your boomer friends just remind them that Bob Hope was funny and Lenny Bruce was not. Of course the hagiographies of Bruce spin this as a virtue: "well, people realized that he was serious, talking about serious topics, blah blah woof woof."

In other words he played a not-small role in debasing political discourse. Great.

I am not saying that comedians should avoid current politics, nor that there is no role for comedy in the political discourse, but if the comedian is not funny, then what value is there in it?

I expect some of my readers to say, "wait a minute! Not funny? Bruce was a comic GENIUS!" To whom I say, go ahead, pull out the old records and listen. You will not need to call a doctor to sew your sides back up.

"But in his day..."

Look, Abbott and Costello are still funny. The Three Stooges, still funny. Lenny Bruce: yawnfest. OK, he had some moments, but mostly he was pretty dull. You want funny pinkos of the past? How about Charlie Chaplin!

Funny Pinkos of the Past. Good name for a union. The International Brotherhood of Funny Pinkos of the Past, Local 512. AFL-CIO. If they went on strike, all of our DVDs would just show picket signs. Amalia would be devastated, as she has taken quite a fondness for Road to Bali, mostly because of the tiger and gorilla. I like the chimp in the Bob Hope mask, myself, not to mention the Bogart cameo and Bing Crosby's brother's scene.

They don't make films like that anymore. Instead we get, well, what do we get? I never seem to get out to the movies these days. Maybe they do make films like that, but I just never get to see them. Nobody I know voted for Nixon, either.

And nobody I know is voting for Bush either. Well, not true, I do know a few Republicans and a few people who, like me, are not Republican but anti-Democratic. But I know people who probably think that nobody they know is voting for Bush.

I am also taking this moment to announce my non-candidacy for President in the 2008 elections. I know that the rumor mill has been circulating my name, but I am emphatically not running. I am not only not running, but if I win the write-in spot, I will not serve. So there. Elect someone else. I will not live in a house full of all that colonial crap, especially if it is in a subtropical swamp. Forget it. I might not like Ronald Reagan, but it still astounds me that a Californian (albeit by adoption) could ever live in that climate. Furthermore, there are no volcanoes in the DC area.

So, if elected and pressed into service, I promise that I will relocate the Capital to San Francisco and the Imperial Palace will be appropriate to the place. We will also have funny hats for all cabinet positions, and the Imperial Guard will have shiny helmets. The Supreme Court will be relocated to a secret location in Siberia (nothing in the Constitution about locating them in remote places), and Congress will meet for their annual meeting at the War Memorial Opera House. Most of that meeting will be spent listening to the State of the Union address, followed by cocktails in one of the exquisite bars in the area (OK, I put that last line in as a sop to Ted Kennedy. You see, I can be as bipartisan as I can be ecumenical).

I already have the design planned for my equestrian statue, which will replace the statue of Mohandas Ghandi, esq. at the Ferry Building.

But I am not running. Nope. I say this so that if I change my mind I will have broken a campaign promise before the campaign begins.

Democrats!

I have been taking a break from more pressing matters by reading some rather dull carping between Republicrats and Demicans on various Catholic blogs.

Now, I am not in any way, shape or form a Republican. I do not see Reagan as an ideal, and find neocons to be general pains in the rear.

However, I can't completely say that I don't have a horse in that race, like I do in the American Colonial Revolt, because my general distaste for Republicans doesn't come close to the dread and loathing I have for the Democratic Party.

My natural reaction to these Donkeys is somewhat akin to my reaction to finding larvae in my polenta.

But here is my secret: I have absolutely no attachment to the Democrats of yore, either. I find nostalgic bleating about FDR or that gasbag Truman (and let's face it, his daughter really was untalented) or the hero worship of Jack Kennedy to be about as horrifying as thinking about Ted Kennedy, drunk and naked, chasing campaign volunteers around a hotel room.

I will be voting in November, but I am not happy about it. I never am. You go into the booth and are confronted with an array of ninnies who all do their job so poorly that we are also confronted with a slate of Propositions, the dumbest of which will inevitably pass.

So, here is my solution: make the day AFTER election day a holiday. Give official endorsement to the notion of going out after voting and getting absolutely stinko. Let the hangover reign on Election Wednesday. It would be a good symbolic act to what happens when the idiot candidates and insane laws all go into effect. Vote. Feel Sick. Vote. Taste the consequences of allowing the unwashed hordes access to voting machines. The electorate is one group of monkeys that will absolutely NEVER type up Hamlet.

Just remember that the deep feeling of rot and emptiness that lingers for months and years after each election is not just the recovery from too much cheap gin, but the legacy of your own choices in that voting booth.

Cheer! Bottoms up!

And do vote, by the way. I will need some company at the bar.

They don't make 'em like this anymore...

Everyone has hopefully heard the good news that the Spanish have decided to leave the statue of Santiago Matamoros in its rightful place in Campostela.

Fr. Tucker points out an article on the issue (which can be found here) that includes this passage:

On Sunday, in a ceremony that will resound with ancient symbolism, King Juan Carlos will pay homage to the Moor Slayer on his saint day by making the annual National Offering at Santiago.

The dictator Gen Francisco Franco once sent his only Moroccan general, Mohamed ben Miziam del Qasim, to make the offering. Sensitive officials covered the base of the statue with cloth to hide the decapitated heads of his compatriots.

There is nothing that makes my admiration for Gen. Franco (pray for his canonization!) grow than reading anecdotes like this. I can think of no gesture more Spanish than sending his one Moroccan general to this duty. In this one act is the bullfight, the conquest of the Aztecs, the music of Padre Soler, the building of El Escorial, the flamenco, the commissioning of Admiral Colombus all rolled together in one act of Hispanismo.

I am not Spanish by family, but was born in New Spain (Alta California), in the city named for the Holy Sacraments. If I were to look towards a restoration of monarchy, it would not be towards heretic German princelings on a remote and barbaric island off the coast of France, or even to the good, Catholic True King of said remote and barbaric island, rather to the one leader who shows Imperial mettle: King Juan Carlos Borbon y Borbon. I may not agree with everything he has done (you all may be surprised, but I completely support his stance in the coup - Phalangism was great for Spain, and will be great for the other nations that need it, but it had done what it needed to do, and it was time for Spain to move to the next stage), but I respect him considerably. The late great Gen. Francisco Franco y Bahamonde did the right thing by seeing Juan Carlos to the throne.

Very funny animation short

I highly recommend this parody of Woody Guthrie's This Land. The whole thing is very well done.

John Edwards

I somewhat expected Kerry to pick Edwards, but I was not sure. I have to admit that I liked Edwards a bit more than Kerry, but I liked almost any of the field better than Kerry. That is probably why I am not a Democrat.

I have voted for a Democrat here and there, but only for local level things. I am not sure that I would any more (except for Willie Brown, who is one of my favorite politicians of all time, or maybe Jerry Brown, who has done a great job as mayor of Oakland).

So, here is my prediction: another close race, but Bush wins. Kerry/Edwards is destined to be a losing ticket. They have a slim chance, but the economy and the perception that the war is dragging will make Bush have to work hard for it, and he will have to pull a couple of rabbits out of the hat.

What Bush needs to do is to cooperate with the Governator in Sacramento. Bush needs to drop some spectacular pork on California and offer Ah-nuld a cabinet position. That way Governator delivers votes, Bush takes California, and he does not have to worry about unemployed blue collars in rust belt swing states.

Kicking a Man When he is Down

There is a rumor going around that I am the sort of person who kicks a man when he is down.

It is true.

I say that if a man needs kicking, it is best to take a good shot at him when he is most vulnerable. The best objection that I have heard to kicking a man when he is down is that it is not quite sporting. I hold that to kick a man for sport is bad. If he needs kicking, then he obviously poses some serious threat to the common good, and that a well-placed kick when he is down will probably keep him down longer, or at least will dissuade him from the behavior that required his kicking to begin with.

Kicking a man must follow the Just War Doctrine. Since we are assuming that our hypothetical case requires kicking to restore order, and that kicking is proportionate to the harm he poses, then all we have to do is to determine when he has had enough. I have rarely encountered a kick-worthy person who was rendered fit for public life simply after one kicking. Some of these folks are like the Energizer bunny.

Now, while I am using the old physical metaphor, it is obvious that I mean to apply this rule more to verbal jousts and the like (but that does not mean that I don’t hold the rule for some idiot who needs a real kick as well). If someone is such an ass that he needs a verbal kick, why spare him when he has just put his foot in it? Go for the gold and really teach him something.

I have heard it said (how’s that for cliché? Passive voice, too) that one is a redneck if “he had it coming” sounds like legal justification for punching someone. I probably am part redneck, and I was excused from a jury once in a self-defense case.

Now, there is a huge difference between kicking a man when he is down and kicking him when he is dead.

I was no fan of Ronald Reagan. I did indeed say, “I’m glad he’s gone,” but that was in 1989. However, his mere existence as an ailing old man seemed to bother some folks. I am probably more baffled by the vitriol that some writers and pundits have shown than by the misguided (yet somewhat understandable) folks who seem to revere him as a saint.

Surely there is a time and place for a critical look at his reign, and so long as it is sober, considered, and measured, it can even happen right away, but the jumping up and down with glee stuff before he is even cold is sick. I could understand it if this were some real monster we were talking about: Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot, FDR or Truman, perhaps even my alter-ego, Richard Milhous Nixon, but no matter how one sees Reagan’s policies, his family life, his public morality, etc., to think that he is in the same league is asinine.

Paul Robeson

Ryan asks, regarding Paul Robeson, "What on earth do you have against that guy?"

Well, start with this and if you still think highly of a man who had everything in life (education, sports career, law career, music career, acting career) and traded it in to nurse his own bitterness, who made a lot of money from cynically singing spirituals (in a minstrel style that was as hammy as that of any blackfaced vaudevillean of old) as a practicing Marxist, then read this or this, from which I have taken this passage:

"As a member of the CPUSA, Robeson enthusiastically supported the 1940 Smith Act which made it an offence under which members of organizations that advocated the violent overthrow of the government could be prosecuted. The Party saw the Act as a means of using WWII as an excuse to legally persecute Trotskyists. While addressing a convention of the Civil Rights Conference Robeson rejected an appeal by a Trotskyist who feared he would lose his government pension, saying that 'Trotskyists are no better than fascists and Klansmen ....... and not deserving of any rights'.

His unconditional support of Communism bordered with betrayal of humanity, as the story of Itzik Feffer shows. "

Bordered on?!? Somewhere you can read the whole story as related by his son, Paul Jr. In its details it is ghastly, even with the whitewash offered by sonny boy.

In typical Commie fashion, Robeson loyally did what he could to smash Trotskyite dissidents, even in the United States. That is why these people (Thank God) lost Spain - they were too busy killing each other to successfully wage war against Franco. I am no lover of Trotsky, but the hatred the mainstream Commies had for him bordered on the psychopathic. Have you read about how Trotsky met his end? This is the sort of brutality that Robeson stood for.

If you want a portrait of what is wrong with the Liberal establishment, then look no farther than this creep. He has been honored with a postage stamp (who next, Goebbels?), building names (the administration building for the discredited Oakland School District), festivals, tributes from the grinning morons of the Film and Recording industries, and so forth and so on. Elias Kazan, who was a brilliant director and took the truly courageous position of turning in vicious colleagues who were members of the Communist Party, was faced with loads of scorn when he was honored with a Lifetime Achievement Award. What happened to those who were on his list? Gulag? Death? No, they simply had to use pseudonyms to draw outrageous salaries as screenwriters and actors.

On the other hand, what happened to Pfeffer?

Spain

Needless to say, I am depressed about the election in Spain. The best case scenario is that the Spanish people wake up and remember what it was that their ancestors were doing for 700 years. I am hoping that this little Socialist will come to terms with reality and do the right thing. If not, I am hoping that somewhere in Spain, in a remote outpost there is a young general without a reputation for political involvement, maybe with a mixed past, perhaps someone who did not get into the naval academy and ended up as an officer in the infantry, perhaps someone who was misguided in youth even, and thought of being a freemason but would not agree to their creed, someone who later distinguished himself in the field and was made general very young...

I emphatically do not want to see Mother Spain plunged into a Civil War again, but if she sinks to the lower abyss of anarchy, commieism and Mohammedanism, then let's pray that there is someone who will step to the plate and lead her out again.

Francisco Franco y Bahamonde, pray for us!

The Libertarian Test

I scored 17, which is a "soft core libertarian." Wow! To call me even that is a stretch. I have some quibbles with the test, however. In typical libertarian fashion, this test sees everything as binary with the poles being pro-regulation and anti-regulation.

For instance, "Do you think that zoning laws are too strict?"

I have to answer yes and no. When they are oriented towards improper means, then they are too strict, for instance in the way that they keep work areas, commerce areas and housing areas apart. If we want to get rid of massive ribbons of highways (I will anticipate the foaming of pro-automobile libertarians and point out that these highways are almost always funded with tax dollars and that our current low prices of petrol are subsidized), we will have to explore city planning that encourages people to live closer to their work. It works great in many places.

When zoning laws allow for nouveau riche to buy and tear down a Julia Morgan house to build a monstrous starter castle that clashes with the whole neighborhood (this happened in Palo Alto a few years back), then I would say that the laws are too weak.

This illustrates the essential problem of the libertarian mind. It cannot take a stand on matters of quality, brushing them aside with staunch defenses of individual preferences. Of course this reeks of aesthetic relativism, which is the kissing cousin of moral relativism.

In fairness, the libertarians like to claim that government (that bogeyman they fear more than anything) cannot possibly make a claim to moral or aesthetic high ground, which, in a liberal democracy, is probably a fair point. With a one-man, one-vote system, official taste boils down to either majority taste or taste that the majority has been tricked into buying into. So, to keep some diversity of ideas alive, if one has to have a liberal democracy, one probably needs to have some libertarian flavor to it.

I suppose that is where my 17 score comes from.

The problem is that liberal democracy must rest on a common culture and a common religion or else it degenerates into a lost world of "values" and pluralism. When deeply held and contradictory "values" are enshrined as law, law becomes meaningless and arbitrary. This is exactly where we are headed.

When law becomes meaningless and arbitrary, tyranny arises and dictatorship is the inevitable end. I have to admit that I am pessimistic about our ability to resolve the deep contradictions that polarize our culture (I am speaking about the West in general, not the United States in particular). As a result, I am convinced that we need to prepare ourselves for dictatorship. The question then is what kind of dictator do we want to back.

If we do not decide what sort of dictator we want, that decision will be made by those who have decided and have started to plan. With Puritanism as the strongest single force animating the American body politic, Catholics should worry. A secular Puritan dictator, a Ralph Nadir in a fancy uniform is the spectre that looms for us unless we get behind a different dictator.

The best way to get behind the right dictator is not in the realm of politics. That realm is lost until we get the culture in order. And if we get the culture in order, we might be able to salvage a dictatorless state. Note that I say "might." We should still keep in mind the fact that we may need to get behind our own dictator.

Now all of this might sound grim, but it doesn't have to be. A dictator is admittedly a stop-gap solution. A good dictator is one who is not followed by another dictator, as dictatorship is an energy-consuming sort of government. What I would hope to have, in the case that dictatorship is inevitable, is a Francisco Franco y Bahamonde.

Franco was faced with a Spain absolutely wrecked by Commies and Anarchists. Priests and nuns were being executed simply for being priests and nuns. Churches were ransacked, and an impending Stalinism was on the horizon (as soon as the Stalinists could kill all the Trotskyites and Anarchists). The government was either unable or unwilling to govern. Murder and mayhem were the rule.

So Franco did the honorable thing, and became the dictator Spain urgently needed. He stabilized institutions and saw to it that the economy moved along, albeit slowly. Certainly Spain was culturally a bit dusty (as I have said before, I would prefer cultural dust to a land where every wild idea, no matter how evil (Patricia Ireland, Michel Foucault, etc.) is given its day). However, in contrast to what was going on in Eastern Europe or Africa, the average man in Franco's Spain was able to go about average business as a matter of course.

Eisenhower wanted to know what Franco had in mind for Spain, so by way of a diplomat, he asked him. Franco replied that he wanted to restore the monarchy, to have a constitutional government, and to have a professional army that was subservient to the civilian government. While King Juan Carlos has allowed far too much liberalization (that will probably require another Franco in a generation or two), that is exactly what Spain has.

Note that Franco was not trying to create some Franco y Bahamonde dynasty, nor was he up for a kleptocracy along the lines of Marcos. He was simply a paramedic who kept his country from dying. And that is the proper role of a dictator. Stablize, govern firmly and fairly, and let the culture flower once the patient is stable, law is the rule rather than the exception, and the elements that threaten to destabilize the country have been neutralized (which does not necessarily mean people are killed, imprisoned or the other litany of horrors that sentimental democrats moan about - they can be bought off with good results or given compromise positions that will forever keep their radicalism in check).

A dusty dictator is the kind we will want. We must avoid the ones who see themselves as great reformers or who have grand visions and utopias. A good dusty dictator realizes that his thumb might be a bit heavy, but errs on the side of caution. A bad dictator is one who sees glories and the ultimate perfection of man. The dusty dictator sees the inherent flaws in man and does the best job of keeping those flaws somewhat in check, but understands that his efforts will necessarily be crude. The dusty dictator discourages wild political ideas, but the good and fair running of the bureacracy. A little censorship here and there is OK. What a DD is looking for is for society to be in the habit of non-reflexive government, of sober consideration, of a disdain for new ideas and experimentation. A free press stirs up sentiments and should be curbed (but not completely crushed) under a DD-type government.

With these habits instilled, democracy can be allowed to gradually come back, first in the local level, with town councils and industrial syndicates. Then the syndicates and town councils should elect members of parliament. Eventually a restricted representative government should be given a bit of a go. The Constitution without the Amendments (keep the abolition of slavery, but get rid of every other one, particularly the ones that expand the vote) comes to mind.

But all of this will come to naught without good habits instilled under the DD.

So, here are my criteria for a good Dusty Dictator:

1. He must be a serious and pious Catholic, although a painful experience in the past in which he strayed from the Church and was brought back might be good for humility.
2. He must be thoroughly aware of the Social Teachings of the Church, but must not confuse his own rendering of them for the teachings themselves. He should read the Rule of St. Benedict at least weekly.
3. He must be willing to submit to the guidance and authority of the Pope, his bishop, and his priest.
4. He must entertain no schemes to rapidly build the economy, he must be suspicious of Grand Public Works and radical land reform. He should be primarily an isolationist in external affairs and shun notions of empire building.
5. He must surround himself with advisors who agree on 1 through 4, but disagree on all else. They should be armed.
6. He must cultivate a distrust of sycophants and flatterers (ah, there's the hard one - number three will come in useful here).
7. He must respect his office. Nothing turns a leader into a tyrant faster than pretensions of equality, for in disdaining the respect due his own office, he ultimately disdains respect for all offices. To help him in this, he should refer to all of his citizens as "my children."
8. His exit strategy must not involve direct relatives.
9. He should establish two competing police forces (I am convinced that the Caribinieri and Polizia keep each other from excessive interference in Italian daily affairs).
10. He should follow the Lateran treaty and turn education and family courts over to the Church entirely.
11. He should live comfortably, with ample means for retirement, should he determine to go that way. Envy and resentment create feelings of entitlement, which in a dictator cause oppression.

Note that I do not in all seriousness propose myself for the job. Not that I don't want it. I do. In a heartbeat. But there is far too much of the Mussolini in me. I would trade the dust for a polished helmet, the slow growth for experimental schemes. I would be the sort to dynamite Mt. Rushmore to build a bigger sculpture of my leering mug, which would contain some sort of vital public works to preserve it for posterity.

The Italian National Wedding Cake would serve as the outhouse to the Duce Keilholtz Monument. My police would have the best plumes, the brightest brass bands, the biggest and blackest horses. Every day would be parade day, and I would look at borders as insolent challenges, awaiting my crack corps of elite troops. I would have a finger in everything, with architects' drawings requiring my approval, music scores scrutinized for bad counterpoint, giant public bonfires of Margaret Atwood books and Van Clibern records, chefs required to wear military insignia, the whole nine yards. Accordion music, gypsy brass bands and yodelling would be broadcast from loudspeakers mounted on cars for the edification of the benighted public.

And the speeches. Endless tirades, long readings from the Aeneid, reflections on the nature of the state, Ezra Pound poetry, all broadcast over all radio stations as well as over loudspeakers mounted atop power poles.

There would be grand train stations, magnificent concert halls, amazing museums. Public money would go to fund fantastic Cathedrals (I might be an aspiring Comic Opera Tyrant, but I am a Catholic aspiring Comic Opera Tyrant after all).

I would recognize that I would end my days shot and hung from a telegraph pole, but would see that as nothing more nor less than the price of duty.

So, no, I am not running for the job. Or I am, but cannot in good conscience endorse myself. So I try to work on the cultural aspects, writing to defend the unborn, the poor, the wholesome pleasures of family and table, museum and concert hall. I work to make art and music and vote for the candidates least likely to will the death of the unborn, the least likely to bomb innocent Serbian Christians in a goofball knee-jerk reaction to a complex problem, the candidate most likely to stop Mohammedan expansion. But I am always looking for the right candidate for Dusty Dictator.

My Concession Speech

It turns out that I did lose an election on Tuesday. I was a write-in candidate for a seat on the Republintern or whatever the GOP Politburo is called. As a result, I guess I owe you a concession speech:

Dear Republicans,

I thank you for not electing me to a seat on your Grand Council. It really would have been a terrible fit. I might vote for your candidates, but I am voting AGAINST the pro-abortion Democrats, not FOR the pro-free-market Republicans. And, frankly, your support of the pro-life cause has been spotty at best. You always seem to forget Reagan's real role in the issue, which was liberalizing the California abortion laws years before Roe v. Wade. Nevermind the warm fuzzies that the pro-life side was supposed to feel at the Reagan victory, the man was a placebo at best, and more probably should be viewed as a Trojan horse.

Furthermore, we have this Schwarzenegger issue. We are facing an assault on the basic building block of society, with an attempt to legitimize phony marriages between two people of the same sex. The Boy Wonder Mayor of San Francisco is violating state law and is inspiring the pro-sodomy toads in other states to follow along merrily. So, why does our Republican governor make such silly statements about marriage? At least he smokes cigars, which is a step in the right direction.

I know, I know, realpolitik and all that, but if your party compromises on all issues to the point that it is indistinguishable from the Democrats (except on cherished market issues), then how exactly am I to be enthralled with it.

Like I said earlier, I will still vote for your candidates when the Democrats and their abominable cousins the Greens put up crypto-Satanists for consideration, but I would not accept the position that you did not offer me anyway, unless I had a chance to transform your party.

The first stop would be the wardrobe department. The GOP is supposed to be the party of Brooks Brothers, but, frankly standards are slipping. Spiff up. Regular members should look decent. The paramillitary wing would be in crisp blue shirts and khaki trousers. The rest should be in blazers with button-downs and neck ties.

The second stop is the bar. Whatever happened to sipping martinis? You allowed too many of those evangelicals in the club. Ice tea is not fit for human consumption. At least when you were dominated by Anglitics, they had the basic decency to drink gin.

The third stop is the humidor. GOP politicians are supposed to smoke big cigars. Again, who let these evangelicals and Mormons in the club?

The fourth stop is to church. I will not be on a party's committee unless said party is Catlick to the core. You will be required to sign on to a vigorous pro-life agenda, a vigorous pro-family agenda that is totally opposed to any notion of rights based on disordered inclinations, and a statement of understanding that property and business must be built on the terms of the Social Encyclicals.

Anyone who does not follow the new agenda will be purged.

Again, I thank you for your vote, and look forward to the next election!

I love political rhetoric!

"We do not have a campaign of cynicism, but a campaign of hope!"

The morning after an election is fun, because you get to hear more of the losers and winners as well as the analysis: "for the first time he used exclusively past tense when talking about the campaign and he inserted a line congratulating Sen. Kerry on his victory."

We do not have a campaign of cynicism, but a campaign of hope.

I am going to use that line in ways far more obnoxious than the context of a concession speech. The next time there is a loggerhead at the lectura dantis, I will stand up and say, "we do not have a campaign of cynicism, but a campaign of hope." Probably missed my opportunity back in Inferno, Canto 3, but will have a chance in a couple of years when we are back there.

Of course, for men who have lost the good of the intellect, they might think that a campaign of hope still makes sense.

Election Night! Yipee!

Not being a Partisan means that I rarely am at those fun election night parties. I kind of miss them. The speeches degenerate as the evening goes on, the winning side gets rowdier and rowdier, the losing party dwindles down to the glassy-eyed candidate and his stoic wife and a few college-student dingbat volunteers who think it somehow meritorious to hang with a loser until the bitter end. You know it is bad news when the children have gone home before the concession speech.

I never was a Partisan, but in my Commie days in high school I generally supported Democrats, worked for Democrat campaigns, and went to Democrat election night parties. Later I went from Commie to Libertarian (out of the oven and into the Malebolge, and for particularly loathesome reasons too, but more about that later) and changed my general loyalties to Republicans. I was never a really gung-ho Republican and only went to one Republican election night party (couple of State Conventions, though, but that is another story). He lost. He deserved to lose. I did not vote for him. I left early. I genuinely like the guy and did not want to hear the concession speech.

When I slowly realized that I had little in common with either the debased Democratic party or with the Protestant, I mean, Republican party (and as a fervent supporter of Franco, I could never be happy in a party with that loathesome name), I stopped having much to do with any of them (although last General Election for the first time I voted a straight ticket - just held my nose and voted GOP right down the line. The Democrats were that bad). Since non-volunteers, non-contributors, especially those who scoff at the party and the party's name, do not get on the invite list to election night parties, I no longer go to them. I have to say they are the only thing I miss about the Dempublican party.

Perhaps in November I will host a Falange Election Night Party. We can eat tapas and drink Jerez and jeer at the returns as they come in. It just won't be the same without a bonafide candidate, though. Maybe it will be a party for all those who are without bonafide candidates. Dress code: identify your party by your shirt or bandana color. If things get dull, the blue shirts could pound the reds, the greens could organize a sit in, which the black shirts would attack unmercifully. No brown shirts or hijabs, however. Even my intolerance has its limits.

Speaking of not having a bonafide candidate, I would love to be a fly on the wall at a LaRouche election night gathering. That nut has fascinated me for some time. I kind of admire the strong arm tactics he uses on his followers, but his mental health is out of whack. I imagine that his parties are grim, paranoid affairs with most of the loyalists watching for signs of betrayal in every action, word, or gesture of the others. Sort of like Stalin for the new decade.

I wonder, does LaRouche literally froth at the mouth? It is something I wonder about Dean Howard, too. I imagine that as soon as he is behind closed doors, hair sprouts from everywhere, his teeth grow, and he starts foaming. Poor Vermont. I hear that the real Vermonters are not like Dean, that they were invaded by New York Liberals. I have been to Vermont. Pretty place with crappy skiing (slush, powder, ice, barespot, slush, powder...).

What about Nadir? I imagine that he talks incessantly, lecturing himself without end, some mad asetic practice, except that the dirty secret is that he is in love with his own voice, even when it scolds him. "Ralph, you have to understand that when I talk to you, I expect some degree of transparency. Even the private forum must be open and fair. You know, Ralph, I disappoint me sometimes, and I really want to talk about this..." and so on for hours.

I hear that Ralph is back in the running. Should cost this John Kerry fellow some votes. Now that Conan the Governor has won his two measures on the California ballot (both of which I was agin'), he might actually have the clout to deliver California for Bush. It will take some serious Federal Pork (and high profile at that), but I can see it happening. If that happens and Nadir kills Kerry in Vermont and a few other liberal fortresses, then Bush is a shoe-in for another four years. I am not setting odds yet, but I would much rather be a Bush strategist than a Kerry strategist right now.

Of course to pull this off, Bush has to completely betray the Pro-Life cause, because the Republicans in California are the party of Mammon, and if being the party of Moloch helps Mammon, then, so be it.

My prediction is that November is going to be ugly. We are going to see the lowest level of election year politics yet. Kerry is going to be the sleaziest, but many a good Republican is going to be pretty disgusted with Bush (hopefully not, but I am pessimistic). It is going to personalityless ugliness, too. There will be no barking Spiros, no snapping Trumans, no pure raunchy LBJ antics, just the sight of two uncharismatic toads trying to outmanouver each other for an invisible fly.

But anyway, here I sit. Alone. Amalia and Melanie are in bed. I could wake them up to give my victory speech or my concession speech, but they would not appreciate it. I could pace the hall, eyes glassy and slightly wild, tie loosened, half my shirt untucked. I could nervously whisper to an imaginary aide. I could say things like "next year", "in 2008", "from this point on" and "the work is only beginning."

So that leaves you:

My dear readers,

I thank you for sticking by me and seeing us through to this victory. It has been a long road, a tremendous struggle, a battle, but I knew from that cold morning in Omaha, that we had what it took to get here. And I say "we." A candidate is only as good as his team, and you did it as much as I did. OF course the strongest member of my team has been my daughter, Amalia. Without her linguistic prowess I don't think we could have even dreamed of a campaign as powerful as "Look! I am a horse!" Or how about "No nap. It's wake time!" Huh, you guys remember that one? But we cannot stop here. No, there is much to do before November. Fundraising. Fundraising. Fundraising. Fundraising [an aide smacks the Senator]. Fund... and building coalitions. People. Working. Together. Common. Vision. Dream. My great friend and mentor. We will win this thing. God bless and good night!

San Francisco

As everyone knows, I love the City of San Francisco. Even though I am in exile accross the bay, I consider it my city, and would move there in a second. As it is, we go to mass in San Francisco, so we are there at least once a week as a family. I am there at least one other time for lectura dantis, and often Amalia and I go over just to take walks, look at the boats, etc.

One of the great things about the city is that it is a remarkably normal place, for the most part. One can easily be in North Beach and not see a Rainblow Flag, men holding hands and purses, and the other sort of depravity that one thinks of when hearing "San Francisco." It is the same in most neighborhoods in the City. So, I find it particularly terrible when San Francisco's wretched government decides to defy the state government and God over the marriage issue.

Hopefully the state will step to the plate for the defence of marriage. I am not too optimistic, as the Gubernator has been fairly pro-sodomy. Obviously we need to storm Heaven with prayers, as He is probably the only one who can do anything about this abomination (a mini volcano erupting at Market and Castro would be a powerful sign).

If you don't live in San Francisco, consider this advanced warning as to what you will be facing in two years. What starts here eventually even hits Wyoming and Alabama, so pay attention to the Western Front, where all is not quiet at all.

I am strongly opposed to legislation by constitutional amendment. If a marriage definition amendment were to happen, it would have some good consequences, but ultimately it would reinforce the notion that rights are whatever 51 percent of the population or two thirds plus one or nine judges or the Mayor of San Francisco thinks they are.

I am not sure what is left for people to do, besides presenting lists of 10 good men in the City.

The primary election

Since we do not have the option of registering as Catholic Falange yet in California, I do not register with any party. I do not fit in with any of them, although I probably tend to vote for Republicrats more than Demicans (last General election, for the first time, I voted a straight party ticket, based on an intense dislike of Gray Davis. I voted against him again last year) . I like elections, even though I am not a big fan of liberal democracy. The elections themselves are fun. I like the late nights at headquarters (growing up in Sacramento, I went to more than my share of those), watching glassy eyed politicos shout themselves hoarse, this minute in joyous exultation, the next in feeble attempts to rally the troops.

There is a reason for these displays. They sap the energy of the losers, so that when the party is dwindling to the last few parasites who cannot face their own joblessness, the politician is too tired to break down and sob. No one wants to see a potential leader, even a loathesome twit like Ralph Nader, sobbing in public.

No, I take that back. I would love to watch Ralph Nader sob in public. But, just about anyone else, no. Not even Dean Howard (I really hate these double first names. Howard Edwards John Dean or whatever they are all going by - a man ought to have a first name, like Wolfgang and a last name like Torquemada. Dean Howard is just double dipping, which is disgusting).

For the winners these crazy election night parties give them that great glazed look. Sometimes they look like they are ready to eat someone. If you look really close, many of them are drooling at this hour. It gives them the humility that they need, just as it spares the poor loser the really ugly moments of defeat.

But my love of elections transcends who wins or loses. Sure I have my favorites. I might like so and so's foreign policy, or the fact that the Xes really dislike Mr. Z, but I am never completely gung-ho for any of them. I probably vote negatively more than I vote positively: Mr. H gets my vote because he is not as bad as the rest on this issue or that issue. In some cases negative voting is very personal: Well, he might be brain-dead, but he isn't Tom Ammiano or Barbara Boxer.

I also tend towards old fashioned ways of settling ties: Latin names first (Italian, Portuguese, Spanish, French, the rest, in that order), followed by German, then Irish (all advantage here might be wiped out by rule number one: I generally do not vote for Protestants, especially if they are former Catholics or their grandparents were Catholic or if they claim to be Catholic and are no more so than Ian Paisley). I will rarely vote for a woman for public office (exceptions have been made, and if you give me long enough I might remember one). I do not vote for people who went to USC. In the Presidential election I favor Californians, followed by Texans, followed by, well, the rest of the country.

But these rules tend to be if all things are more or less equal. Or not. Part of being an undemocratic person is that you tend not to get too worked up over this stuff. I don't listen to too many of the audition speeches, nor the debates (last one I heard was between Dick Cheney and Fred Liebermann or Joe or whatever his name was).

But I will vote vendetta. And once in awhile a politician comes along that I follow, looking for viability in every potential opponent. Dianne Feinstein is one (someone I have loathed since Dan White elected her Mayor of San Francisco). Barbara Boxer is another, as is Barbara Lee (I have gotten to distrust the name Barbara or Brbra or whatver variant is out there). So, when I got my sample ballot I checked to see what the rule was (it was changing each election for awhile). Sure enough, those of us who float around in the dark, nondeclared reaches of the electoral swamp get to pick which ballot to vote.

My first thought was "allright! I get to vote for the least candidate the Democans have to offer!" But then I remembered that my vote could be the beginning of a turn of events that puts the clown in office. "I only voted for Gray Davis because I thought he would be easier to beat in the General Election," said an unnamed friend last night.

So, I will be voting the Republican ballot, since Barbara Boxer needs to be brought down low. It is all too bad, in a way. I thought that it would be fun to vote for Al Sharpless. I never would in any circumstance that I thought he had a chance in. But, jetzt es ist ganz im Ernst. We must defeat Boxer if this state is to be worthy of the name Bear Flag Republic!

Kalifornia uber Alles!

Cultural Inthenthitivity

I realize that it has been way too long since I posted some knee-jerk pro-European Culture thing on the blog. What have I been thinking? People will think that I have embraced Hindooism or something. Anyway, I was reading another blog that mentioned the city that was named after my favorite gin.

This city is in India, which is now independent, so I am told. The Indians have been calling it Mumbai, which just sounds too much like Mumbo, which makes one think of Mumbo-jumbo, which seems like something India would be better off without. So, I have unilaterally decided that on Eriksrant this city is not only staying with Bombay, but actually going back to the proper Bom Bahia, which is the original Portuguese anyway. If you have trouble finding Bom Bahia, look at the map and find Ceilao. Now, trace up the Western coast of that triangular sub-continent and you will find Bom Bahia.

I can understand wanting independence (especially from the English), but why trade in a good Portuguese name? So, by order of the Blog Duce, all references to this city on this here blog will be to Bom Bahia. Not only is that the best way to honor the place, but it keeps it from being confused with Bombay, which, as everyone knows is a gin.

Now, some smartass will inevitably bring up Rhodesia, but there is a difference. Rhodes was a complete jerk and not at all Portuguese. We can let the name Rhodesia go the way of the dodo bird.

Electrolux Brouhaha

I have to admit that I have not gone digging around the issue of the Electrolux plant closure, but I think that there is a significant issue that must be addressed (and note that I am not offering any solutions to it).

I read some material today about a system that will move the printing industry into an almost workerless process. The technology is here, and the equipment manufacturers are finally seeing its potential (although it has taken them long enough). When I had my first job in the industry, the big cost center was pre-press. It was labor intensive, with hours of careful film manipulation required to get proper registration of the four colors. Proofs had to be made and developed and changes were labor intensive. In fact, my theory at the time was that the success of a printing company depended upon a good policy of charging for alterations, as I could see how sloppy chargebacks could mount up tremendous labor costs that had to be absorbed by the company.

Since then, film is vanishing. The image goes from one computer to the next, proofs are no more costly than a good color printout, and the image comes out in a final sheet of film, or for the more advanced printer, directly to plate or even the press itself (although I can always tell a Quickmaster job, as the technology is not quite there yet).

There is really no reason that moving paper and ink (even mixing ink - and the need for special PMS colors will diminish with new, more precise 4-color process) to the press, running the press, moving press sheets to the bindery, binding, cutting and packing cannot be done by automated processes. Thus, a large printing house will be run with a shipping/receiving clerk, a few pressmen/mechanics (who will have to be really good, and thus highly paid), and a few computer guys (who will also be top-notch high wage fellows) plus sales, financial and management.

The printing industry is one with slim margins and heavy competition. As this technology becomes available it is inevitable that it takes over. A firm that cannot adapt will become completely uncompetitive and will fold. No amount of legislation, outside of the most quixotic attempt to ban the technology itself, will save the manufacturing jobs. This technology will make it unfeasable to move the plants to Mexico or China, as labor will become a minor issue.

So, quibbling over where a plant is for the next five years is a waste of time. The question is how to transition the work force into this new economy. Will we have enough service jobs to keep the workforce employed? Will we see a resurgence of artisanal goods for a more sophisticated populace that will provide good niche employment for more and more people? Certainly in the Bay Area, this seems to be the case. We are producing more and more hand-crafted goods of higher and higher quality than ever before. I can find more variety in small-farm produce than I ever have seen (like I mentioned last week, I found two vegetables in the farmers' market that I had never heard of, and there aren't that many vegetables that I have never heard of).

If we are going to look to a Catholic model for economics and community, we need to recognize the inevitability of technology and the transformation of the economy caused by that technology just as we have to recognize that money today is different than money in the past. Certainly I do not want to see workers out of work, but there are some awful jobs in manufacturing that I don't think would be missed.

WOW! We just had a little earthquake (very minor, probably with a close epicenter). The great joy of California: land surfing.

Anyway. Distributism offers some interesting ideas, but it is embryonic. I am by no means laissez-faire on anything. However, there are certain inevitabilities of the market that have to be recognized, because the market always strikes back. That is one of the reasons that I cannot condemn Electrolux too harshly, and why I am a bit disturbed by the rancor that is going around the blogosphere on this. We are facing a monumental change in our economy, and I think that Catholics need to address how to meet it.

MLK

Sure, Martin Luther King was an important figure, but I cannot get into a holiday with "Martin Luther" in its name, especially with the word "King" so close. It sounds like Martin Luther, King, and that really grates. So forgive my lack of celebration. People would talk.

"Keilholtz is getting awfully ecumenical these days."

Likewise, I have no enthusiasm for Calvin Coolidge.

Iowa

What is the deal with Iowa? I thought that Caucusus were the border between Asia and Europe! Is this one of those London Bridge in Arizona things? How much did they pay for them? Someone had better explain things fast.

Seriously, though, I loved Dean's little rant. What was I saying? Oh yeah, petty, nasty, something like that. Come November I am going to miss his snarl.

I have my share of gripes about Bush (religion of peace? What was in his hookah?), but am still supporting him in the upcoming election. The Democrats are going to be caught in their perpetual dance of their own identity. If they are too moderate, they will lose their leftist fringe (who, by the very nature of leftist fringies are the energy of the party). If they are too fringy, then they lose their center.

This should continue to be a fun primary.

EDITED: avoid trying to type punny things in late at night, as you are liable to make typos.

Howard Dean

I, for one, am getting sick of hearing how Dean is turning on young nudniks to politics through the Internet. If I hear one more comparison between this nitwit and McGovern I might have to close my eyes and howl "Richard Nixooooooooooooooooooooon."

Fortunately, these youngsters will get all fired up and log on to a million silly websites and when Bush wins again, they will get bored and return to a life of quiet alienation. As I frequently tell young people: "hey, voting just ratifies the MAN. Your vote won't count anyway. Why endorse the ruling elites by participating in their sham elections, dude?"

But back to Nixon. There is something I have always found fascinating about the man. I read the transcript to the newly released tapes and I picture the drunken ex-Quaker with five o'clock shadow in his slippers ranting to one of his stooges.

I figure that if the American people were ever suckered into, I mean, ever elected me to be President, Richard Nixon is the sort of leader that I would be.

I can picture myself in a silk smoking jacket and slippers, with a cut crystal glass of whiskey in hand, wandering the halls of the White House mumbling semi-incoherently about "the stinking Commie democrats" to one of my stooges, who will have to ratify every goofball thing I say:

"Yes, Mr. President, I believe Clinton was a closeted Russian, yessir, that sounds about right. And I will see about offing Donaldson, right away, sir."

The thing is, I can in no way, shape or form picture myself being any other sort of President. Dictator, yes, but as an elected President, I am afraid I would just be Nixon, Part II. The job would positively drive me to drunken flights of paranoia. I can't figure out why anyone would want it, and I am glad that Bush is the sort of person who can keep a level head in that situation.

The thing is, I don't think that Dean or Kerry or Sharpton or La Rouche (he is at it again, I presume? No?) would be able to resist the temptation of maniacal degeneracy in the office. La Rouche would be entertaining in the Nixon way, but I am afraid that I would have to leave the continent.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't think that resisting maniacal degeneracy is the be-all/end-all to the job. Carter's degeneracy was entirely different, and that really scares me. I would take a hundred Nixons to every Carter, even would take a Ford over a Carter (unless the electrical system is giving me headaches again. In which case I would take Ford, but would want General Motors as Head of the Joint Chiefs). Of course this all suggests Presidential poker, which could be fun.

I'll see your Reagan and will raise you a Carter.

A Carter?!? I can't take it again. I fold.

But Howard Dean? Forget it. The good news is that he doesn't have a chance. He is not only an idiot, which isn't the worst trait in a politician, but he is vain, nasty, and petty, and nobody likes that combination in a politician. Take it from a Californian. We prefered this Action hero to someone who was vain, nasty and petty.