Easing back into the sleeze

I didn't blog yesterday. Why? Because after our little out of town jaunt to "Out of the Way" earlier this week, it's difficult to return to those beauty queens of conservatism Michelle Malkin and Ann Coulter gracing the pages of the local newspaper. Trying to get back in the groove after Monday's respite from it all is difficult at best. Extremely difficult at worst.

As Malkin said in a column in yesterday's paper of us against her war, "There are countless numbers of anti-war zealots on the American Left rooting for failure...They've blindly embraced frauds who've lied about their military service...," (forgetting the military record of her own commander-in-chief warrior-king who is making us safe from terrorists as he creates 'em faster than he can kill 'em).

And Coulter must be laughing all the way to the bank as thousands of additional books are sold by inanities muttered to any member of the media (or the likes of Hillary Clinton) who engage her with the time of day. Of 9/11 widows she says, "These broads are millionaires, lionized on TV and in articles about them, reveling in their status as celebrities...I have never seen people enjoying their husband’s death so much." She's equally critical of Cindy Sheehan and any other mother of a child killed in Iraq who questions her war.

And then there was the question I overheard by a CNN Headline News anchor posed to a reporter in the wake of the Haditha investigation of the marine's alleged slaughter of innocent children and adults. He asked how many times this reporter could continue to ask tough questions and write harsh critiques of the military before the Pentagon stops cooperating with him?!

Obviously that CNN anchor is from the new school of journalism (as promoted by his employer, CNN) where it's a reporter's job to just sleep with the Pentagon, but not "screw it" (with the truth).

And so it was that I was unable to find the inspiration; to think of anything to say yesterday. Instead, I took shelter in the comfort of Monday's travels.

Back to a place fronting the main street of Tularosa, where there's a rickety fence with a gap that once was a gate. And there's a worn path that breaks ranks with the sidewalk of Granado Street and makes a run for it through this gateless gap. And that's where I took shelter for a time. At the top of aging stairs secured with rusting nails. Through a door where there's a small apartment with windows opened wide and curtains flapping in a gentle breeze. It's so removed from the 'Main Drag'of USA.

But this morning, I eased back down those stairs, encouraged by an L.A. indy media news story of a people's farm in South Central L.A. (see needy vs. greedy) that through a campaign for public awareness and ensuing generous donations, The Annenberg Foundation announced it had made an offer to developer Ralph Horowitz to buy the 14 acres at the price he was asking! (They await his response.)

I guess it's the tidbits like those that keep me poking my head outside each morning in search of good news. To venture back on Main Street despite the queens of conservatism hawking their wares, soliciting their johns.