Huh?

November 23, 2008 - U.S. president-elect Barack Obama told Afghanistan's leader he will dedicate more U.S. aid and military power to the region's fight against extremist groups. (CBCNews)

November 25, 2008 - Hamid Karzai, Afghanistan's president, has demanded foreign powers set a "timeline"for the withdrawal of their forces from his country. (Aljazeera)

Remembering the future.

Today we made it to Sutherlin. It's our fourth day walking Interstate Five northward since the disaster. Hoping each new valley we overlook from a ridge above our last will be different, hopes were again dashed today.

But Sam and I will spend the night here. The motel where we'd stayed five years ago is gone. I think we found my old college chum's restaurant, Pedotti's. I'm not sure. But where I think it was is nothing but rubble bearing gentle wisps of grey smoke rising in memory to what was the best Italian food for miles just last Tuesday. Like most everything else that was something then but now is nothing.

Despite a couple hours of gentle rain, our walk from Roseburg was the most pleasant so far. The earth is cooling. Walking is more comfortable than when we first started. Save for occasional hot spots, the smoldering has pretty much ceased. The air breathes easier, thankfully, for Sam who is closer to the acrid ground.

Tomorrow we'll continue north toward Eugene. Hopefully, we can find our family there. But I am not hopeful if what we've seen so far is indication of what lies ahead. With luck we should be there in four or five days.

And depending how we find Eugene, we will decide about Portland, our original destination until those plans were scrapped just south of Canyonville.

So far, we've encountered some nice people. Those who weren't dead, suffering or too shocked to speak anyway. And we're pleased food to this point has not been a problem. Scavenging is rich if not always appetizing.

Funny how more and more I find myself fantasizing about a McDonald's quarter pounder.

Thanksgiving 2008!

Dada, as shown above (well, his feet anyway), smothered in another hol-
iday season crush of love from friends, family, and/or the Russian Bolshoi.

Ah, Thanksgiving 2008 arrives, signaling the start of that seasonal display of humanity's purest expression of compassion for all things living!

As is traditional, president Bush appeared briefly before cameras yesterday to pardon this year's lucky pair of turkeys -- likely not his last before leaving office, thus signaling the official start of the spirit of the holiday season.

Two fortunate toms were this year's recipients of Bush's amnesty. "May" and his backup, "Flower" -- strange names for a pair of male turkeys, I know, but likely a token concession to women everywhere living in a world of male domination, as a salivating nation looked on in anticipation of its annual feast of several million of May's and Flower's less fortunate feathered fellows.

And so, with this official "kickoff," it's once more time to enjoy the closeness, the crush of communing with others in the spirit that exemplifies the best of human qualities. Time set aside from our petty lusting for mass annihilations of our brothers and sisters and to gather around a dining table, a TV or outside a pre-dawn line of our favorite retail store before they open their 5:00 a.m. doors to another Black Friday's rushing crush of crowds dying to express their compassion and love for one another as only the things of glitter and glare can do.

It is with such spirit Dada gives thanks. Thanks for being a member of the human family, so filled with love and compassion for one another as this season again reminds us. Thankful we have been granted the stewardship of oversight and safety for all living things of the Earth. One can only imagine the mayhem and chaos of the world were we not.

As we partake of this spirit, take care not to get too overwhelmed by it. Just let it flow over you like a rising tide. Let it pile on you. Enjoy it, but take care not to let it drown, smother or crush you. Such incredible feelings of peace and joy only last a month or so. And we can all hold our breaths that long! Then it will be back to work, building a better world as only we humans can do.

Happy Thanksgiving all!

Bush proclaims his legacy.

President Bush, the eldest son and dimmest light in the family bulb basket of Barbara and George H.W. Bush, is shown above. With 57 days remaining in office and the nation on the threshold of total economic collapse, he proclaims his legacy proudly:

"I killed 'er. This baby's deader than an Afghani bribe at her wedding reception!" Bush says of the nation's Constitution to her horrified birth fathers.

The annual ripple from this historic day again floods the consciousness.

Another year already! Last year the anniversary of JFK's assassination occurred on Thanksgiving Day.

This is what I wrote, in part, one year ago today in a blog entitled Across Space and Time. It is of memories of a day interrupted one morning at Fresno State University, memories stirred on this day every year for the past 45 years:

****

It'll start with a memory of standing in a hallway outside my girlfriend's 11 o'clock class. Of a stranger who approached us with a fantastic question we did not know the answer to. And of leaving my girlfriend there and going off to lunch in the university cafeteria. Of the announcement in the middle of that lunch that resulted in the sudden sounds of dropping forks and knives on plates and tables amid gasps and sobs echoing throughout the dining hall as these words came over the speakers:

"President John F. Kennedy died at approximately 1:00 p.m. Central Standard Time today here in Dallas. He died of a gunshot wound in the brain."

And I'll remember some of the faces and places that ensued in the days that followed. Most of those people not seen in almost half a century, nor thought of in a year.

****

And now another year has passed and it's 45 years since that tragic event unfolded. And I will repeat the memory ritual I've repeated this day of every year for the past 45 years. And I'll ponder how different (or not) history might have been.

And as editor Sam reminds me this day, it might have been extremely different, as I could learn if I just read this book by James W. Douglass. Today might be a good day to start.

Of red skins and pale faces.

Dada and Sam inside El Paso Saddle Blanket.

I often wish there were more public places my editor Sam and I could visit together. It would improve his editing skills, going where I go, seeing what I see. Being there for experiences later to be blogged about sometimes.

Because of that, I've often contemplated rigging a handle to Sam's harness, much like a seeing-eye dog's. That wouldn't be difficult. Then, wearing a pair of dark shades, I could pretend to be vision-impaired. There'd be no denying Sam access to all the places I go, save for one minor detail. Being hopelessly untrained, it would be the blind leading the blind. Sam would slam me into clothing racks or drag me after little children he loves to meet. Or worse, causing a scene with a wooden "Indian." I'll explain.

El Paso Saddle Blanket is a very large import store locally that is dog friendly. It's a place we can go without role playing. Because of this, and an invitation extended us by a friend who was exhibiting as one of the guest artists the Saddle Blanket features each Saturday, I decided it would be an excellent chance for Sam to hone his social skills.

After about an hour of visiting with various artists displaying this day, I was very proud of Sam. He had handled himself perfectly among strangers, even the other dogs who happened to be there. I was getting very relaxed about his public demeanor. But then it happened.

While visiting a painter we hadn't yet spoken with, Sam suddenly went bananas. Straining at the end of his leash, he was barking ferociously causing everyone to stop and stare.

What Sam had discovered was a wooden "Indian" about four feet tall, watching him from behind a stack of merchandise.

Obviously, Sam didn't like stealthy Indians "mad dogging" him.

Unrelenting in his protest, I had no choice but to suggest we go outside for a walk. Maybe Sam could use some fresh air. Maybe take a pee.

It was during our exit that Sam then discovered the store was full of wooden Indians watching him! Because of his excitement upon entering the store, the Indians had escaped his notice. But now, having seen one, he was seeing them all, leaving Sam feeling surrounded amidst a pow-wow. Sam's boisterous reactions made it easy for customers to follow our progress towards the exit door.

Once outside, Sam reclaimed his composure. After a few minutes of walking around, Sam relieved himself then stood there, looking up at me, waiting.

"No, Sam, there are rules," I said. "There are some things you don't do and some I don't do. Like, you don't pee in the store and I don't pee out here," I explained, looking up to see the sideways glance of a mother quickly leading her two small children past us. Our glances collided mid-air in a collision from which there would be no survivors.

As Sam and I prepared to reunite with Mrs. Dada inside the store, I reminded: "Now, don't forget. No peeing in the store."

"Oh, and Sam? No barking at the wooden Indians either."

Going Down?

Suddenly, Dorothy decides she doesn't want to ride the elevator to the sub-basement.

(NOTE: Thanks to those who have recently mentioned to Dada the state
of their investments in the stock market for inspiring today's graphic.)
*****

Terry and the Pirates, or.....

.....Oo-ee, oo-ee baby
Oo-ee, oo-ee baby
Oo-ee, oo-ee baby
Won't ya let me take you on a sea cruise?

Inspired by the wreckless daring of the 21st Century's
most famous pirate of all, U.S. president George Bush,

Sirius Star, photo by Cater News Agency, Ltd.

Somali pirates seized their 7th ship in 12 days. Shown above is their biggest
prize to date, the Sirius Star, with $100 million dollars worth of oil on board.

Meanwhile locally just across the border in Juarez, a vicious drug war goes on with daily murders (approaching 1,200 total so far this year), many carried out in broad daylight. More recently beheadings have become fashionable with headless bodies or bodiless heads showing up on city streets.

Journalists have been targeted and killed. And the latest tack by the drug thugs as we learned this week is the threatening of school teachers to hand over their upcoming Christmas bonuses or face the consequences of havoc raining down upon themselves, their students or their schools.

But for all the daring and attrocities as inspired by "numero uno", the biggest bandido of all -- president George Bush, these pirates and butchers should ask themselves one question: When it comes time to retire, can they pardon themselves? President Bush thinks he can!

IT'S WAR!

Dada models his new G.I. style "hat."

Well, this is a real surprise. I never expected to be joining the ranks to fight another war at this stage of my life. What I was expecting was relearning to play *Bingo!* down at some senior citizen's center or drifting in and out of consciousness brought on from the sedative of a warm sun raking across me in my front porch rocker.

But who am I kidding other than myself? With my easily distracted attention, I never was much of a bingo player and the one great rocker I had fell apart several years ago and disappeared shortly after I sat it out on the front curb. Besides, our house has no front porch to sit on anyway. So I suppose playing soldier is as good a pastime as can be expected in light of what's happening to everyone here, on the homefront!

Forget the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. As this month's election showed, they've taken their place on a back burner to the newest and hottest issue, the war at home where Americans are now fighting desperately to salvage some modicum of life as we knew it! While I don't expect whatever comes through this to resemble what we had or what we were, I do hope that, should we ever end our foreign wars, our members of the armed forces will still have a nation to come home to.

In the meantime, I -- like most Americans -- will be fighting to hang onto my health in face of vanishing health care, clinging to and defending my savings and retirements from the onslaught of shriveling wealth. And that freeway overpass I've joked about for years as our possible future home? It's looking more and more feasible. The war is on and I suspect more and more of us will be joining up to fight it.

Digesting the news.

(EDITOR SAM'S NOTE: Below is blog number 37 in the series "The Sun Sets on the American Empire.")

As Dada contemplates his satellite dish and why he chose to spell
liberté with an "é" instead of a "y," Dorothy climbs the ladder to
inquire if he is at liberty to take his leave of Liberté and come
down off the roof. "Your lunch is ready," she tells him..

"Dorothy, did you hear what French President Sarkozy did yesterday?" Dada asks without pausing for an answer.

"He backed Russian President Dmitri Medvedev's previously ignored calls for a new pan-European security pact in a direct rejection of Bush's ambition to plant weapons under Russia's nose! You know, like pokin' the Russians in the eye with the pointy ends of his annoying little missiles?"

"Instead, the French are telling Bush, 'Go stick the missiles up your ass!' " Dada exclaimed with less than subtle excitement.

"Are you coming down?" Dorothy reiterated impatiently. "Your lunch is getting cold."

Dada smiled. "Now I know why I spelled Liberty Liberté."

(Next up for Dada: Mulling over where the new American president will stick Bush's missiles over a lunch of sliced roast beef, French dip and fries that has grown woefully cold.)

Today's Image from the Highlands

Germany, home of Europe's largest economy, announced yesterday it is now officially in a recession. Gee, Dada sure hopes they don't export that here, to America!

Perhaps a short note on last night's local news is indicative of something economic going on here, however. Seems local banks and credit unions are now requesting that, when entering their premises, folks kindly remove their sunglasses and hats. "All the better to see you," I suppose the FBI might say as you run off with the fed's money.

I prefer, however, to focus on another place, another time, by posting a photo from our last trip to Northern New Mexico two years ago. Yes, I've posted this before (and, yes, I have painter software and am not afraid to use it).

This then is the Rancho de Chimayo Restaurante and Hacienda
in Chimayo, NM,with the autumn's harvest of red chiles tracing
it's roofline as golden pumpkins anchor its foundations, inviting
everyone to enter, to escape for an hour or two, and partake of fine
food and drink. (Removing of shades and hats is strictly optional.)

And the losers are???

WHOOPS! (from the I slipped category of presidential bloopers):

"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." --George W. Bush, Aug. 5, 2004

Dorothy watches as America crashes and burns.

It's all coming off so smoothly, isn't it? Bush and Obama working congenially on the transition of power which is going just swimmingly. While Obama was seeing the inside of the oval office for the very first time, Laura guided Michelle on a tour of the first family’s living quarters.

And this Wednesday begins "Operation Vigilant Shield." It runs from Nov. 12-18, 2008 and will link multiple concurrent exercises in the implementation of martial law after a terrorist attack.

While I realize I'm sounding a wee bit "out there" and conspiratorial, please pardon. I'll probably exhibit signs of paranoia until the vermin are out of the White House once and for all, okay?

It's not my intention to scare anybody, save for a word of warning, especially to residents of Portland, OR ,and Phoenix, AZ, (recall U.S. unpreparedness the morning of 9/11 because of joint exercises being conducted to prevent just such events as were going on in D.C. and NYC).

(NOTE: Dada thinks it prudent we all be especially alert these last 70 days of Bush -- just in case our friends and/or family members in one of the cities like Phoenix, Portland or others get nuked by the Bush regime in order to cement their power.)

Sunday thoughts

"It's totally FUBAR'ed -- beyond all redemption," was my reply to a deeply
concerned president Bush inquiring of Dada of his legacy as 43rd president
of the United States. "Same as you left the nation -- totally FUBAR'ed!
Besides, it's a little too late to be worried about your ass now when we
have to fight to save the nation's ass!" I added.

********

Quote of the day: "Who's the real terrorists?" comes from an anonymous comment posted on Truthout. It was in response to a post-election article entitled "What a Long Strange Trip It's Been" by Obama supporter and dreaded "terrorist" of the Right, Bill Ayer's.

"It will be hard to put the hate genie that McCain, Palin and their
enabling media whores unleashed back into the bottle. I endured that
hate from the mouths of so-called "born again Christians" while working
at the polls in western NC last Tuesday. "Who would Jesus bomb?"

"The American Taliban will make sure that everything we've fought for,
including what Mr. Ayers fought for, will be reversed by these
home-grown terrorists that believe that God talks to them, and and that
God commands them to destroy everyone else that doesn't believe in what
they do. After all, they see themselves as fulfilling God's prophesies
of Armageddon and the Apocalypse.

"Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus,
going on before !" Ayers fought to stop a war. The right-wing is fighting
to start a world war. So who's the real terrorists here??"

********

That was nice. Oh, and while in this vein, I'd just like to congratulate the "real terrorists" for their successful anti-gay bills passed in places like Florida, Arkansas, Arizona and California last Tuesday.

If we can't resolve this by a little attitude adjustment of the homophobes or by peacefully splitting the nation into two (or more) countries, I suppose it may be necessary to round these folks up and ship 'em off to Norway where they will be fined or imprisoned up to two years for "public threats, defamations, expressions of hate, agitation for discrimination or voting against equal rights for LGBT citizens." (OK, so the last part, the "voting against equal rights for LGBT citizens" part? I just threw that in. So sue me!)

Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are

(NOTE: The following video from the Onion is intended solely for laughs. While I plead guilty to posting it here, I had nothing to do with making it. If you feel your humor is "thin" at the moment, you might want to forgo it at this time.)


Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are

Dorothy, of the Great Depression era, views Magritte's "The Lovers"
while contemplating how the economy is impacting the wealthy's
collections of famous artists in the face of declining prices.

(It's two days since the election. As the euphoric distraction its outcome provided ebbs, the stock market resumes its march to the sea and new depths with the Dow dropping 929 points in two days. )

It's difficult to imagine why anyone would want to be president of the U.S. with its economy in the sewer. Obama has the towering task of salvaging the nation while minimizing those who will crash and burn in the process. And sadly, success is not a given.

Stories like the one out of New York City are becoming a national trend. Consider what's in store for residents there in dealing with the growing fiscal crisis:

• 3,000 city jobs will be cut; 1,000 fewer police. An additional $60 million will have to be raised through tickets given out by 200 newly hired traffic agents.
• a 7% property tax hike effective 1 January and cancellation of a promised $400 property tax rebate.
• a proposal to increase income taxes by 7.5 or 15 percent!
• this in addition to proposed sales tax increases.
  

Meanwhile, jobs are being hemorrhaged nationwide at alarming rates. Employers are cutting back on health insurance benefits and eliminating their matching 401-K fund contributions. At a time when more and more revenue is needed by financially strapped state and local governments, sources of those revenues are drying up.

There's a bittersweetness in the doom and gloom of the difficult economic times ahead. For the wealthiest nation on Earth there seemed to exist a bottomless pit of endless wealth to be tapped, created from unregulated markets and speculators in derivatives; faux riches created from mortgage schemes to profits derived from the manufacture of bombs and the weapons to deliver them that contribute nothing productive or "useful" to the economy but the destruction of entire other nations.

It all seemed so limitless, so easy. Done with so little sacrifice save for those who gave their lives and/or futures in defense of the prosperities we so enjoy(ed) or those who stayed home applying 3 buck, 50 cent magnetic "Support the Troops" ribbon stickers to their SUV's rear ends.

But that is all changing. Sacrifices are coming due in extremes never anticipated. Aside from the tens of thousands losing their educations or retirements, health care, their jobs or their homes, a recent auction of art work by Christies was expected to sell for $104 million. That was the low-end estimate. At the end of the evening, the total take was less than half that -- a paltry $47 million. It would appear even the wealthy are sacrificing.

One of the evenings few works to bring in more than its low end estimate of $3 million was Rene Magritte's 1947 gouache entitled “Empire of the Lights” which went for $3.5 million, making Dada suspect it was purchased as a nostalgia piece in memory of an earlier, more bountiful era perhaps.

Depression Dorothy studies Magritte's "The Empire of Lights," wonder-
ing how much longer before it becomes "The Empire of Darkness."

Yes, it's difficult to imagine being president of the U.S. with its economy in the sewer.

Election Day, 2008

It all seems like a dream. After nearly two years of politicking, we've finally arrived at the big day. Hell, it only takes a season (ca. 6 months) for two opposing leagues or conferences to reach the World Series or Super Bowl. This whole process has been entirely too long, too tedious.

I don't know if I've fully adjusted to last weekend's time change or not, and now we have this. All day long I've had the feeling that if I turn on the TV there ought to be a couple of football games on and a bunch of guys swatting little white balls across massive landscapes of lush greens sprinkled with blue ponds and ocher pits of sand.

Maybe accenting that something's missing feeling is our lack of satellite TV we're still in cold turkey withdrawal from. It's absence is really conspicuous on days like this. But, hopefully, once the polls begin to close in the east, we'll join the rest of America via the local networks as we learn whether we still have some pretense at representative representation or not. (I'm reluctant to say representative government as shown by the grand support the two 'opposing parties' had for last month's bailout bill despite the vast majority of Americans opposing it.)

An hour and a half ago Mrs. Dada departed for our precinct voting location in a Korean church. I don't know what she's officially called, but she's volunteered to observe the process there and watch for any irregularities or complaints from voters. She's far more civic minded than Editor Sam or I. But in another half hour or so, Sam and I will take a run over there and see how it's going. (To make up for our lack of dedication, however, we will take the Civic mind you.)

Received the following e-mail from my relative from Oregon this morning:

I am planning my Tuesday off around election coverage on the old
boobtube.  I have a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge to get
me through the night, and if things start to look really bad I
have a bottle of Jack Daniels in the liquor cabinet.  Oh well,
only time will tell what happens.

Sounded like a good idea, so I went to the liquor store in the new strip mall just two blocks away. The beer delivery truck was there (a sign of good timing!). I laid in a supply of India Pale Ales. If things really go to hell tonight, it will be good to have a liquor store so close by the next 4 to 8 years.

So with the beer chilling, I too am now prepared for whatever may happen next -- just in case the delivery this evening turns out to be a long and/or difficult one and, instead of what most are expecting, the process results in the birthing of banana republic.

lol !

What a shame. Autumn, being a wonderful time of year around the country as it is here in the Southwest, should be a season for celebrating this year's apple, pumpkin and chile harvests (see above). Instead, all minds are turned toward next Tuesday and, I fear, the results of the latest American election will permeate the air with the reeking scents of something very rotten instead.

And much of the world will mourn the nation which heralded itself as "the greatest democracy on Earth" (cough, sputter) while others who see us as nothing more than the banana republic we have become will be laughing out loud, much as these chiles seem to suggest.

Tea leaves may be in danger of losing their title as a psychic's best portents of the future; replaced instead by New Mexico chile pods. Okay, let us go ahead and celebrate the chile harvest then. Happy autumn harvests everyone! ~Dada (lol !)