Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Breaking bread on truce night among enemies who really love one another.
Desiree Fairooz and Medea Benjamin welcoming guests at last Saturday's
annual White House Correpondent's Dinner. Make no mistake about it,
Medea and Desiree have more balls than 98% of the rest of the nation.
(Video courtesy of Amy Goodman's "Democracy Now!")
I enjoyed watching the video of Wanda Sykes toasting/roasting attendees at last Saturday's Annual White House Correspondent's Dinner. That's the yearly dinner affair where conservative, middle of the road democrats and right wing extremist republicans take off the gloves for one night -- as only real political allies pretending to hate each other's guts the other 364 days of the year can do -- as they share a black tie dinner with a few good laughs at the expense of each other's ideologies (as entertainment no doubt for us, the country's rabble). I'll admit, I was amused. (It keeps the nation's mobs distracted, don't you know?)
This year's humor was served up by comedian Sykes, the evening's featured guest. Afterward, I found it amusing that MSNBC commentator, Keith Olbermann, thought that Sykes, "regrettably, a well seasoned pro went well beyond the line" in expressing her wish the kidneys of hot air bag Rush Limbaugh would fail. It was simply her response to mutinous Limbaugh's wish Obama's administration, hence, the nation, fail miserably.
But most amusing to me, however, was how Keith Olbermann dispensed his morality on the evening after breaking bread and sharing laughs this night with an international war criminal -- former secretary of state, Don Rumsfeld. In this country, irony knows no bounds obviously.
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6 comments:
By "breaking bread with" and "sharing laughs with"-- are you saying Rumsfeld was at his table? Or do you mean he was in the same room with 1998 other people . . . and Rumsfeld?
I'm not with Olbermann on this one. I think Wanda did just fine. But you should take issue with what he SAID -- not try to find irony in who else was at the same huge event he attended. That just doesn't work.
Reader: Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to comment. I appreciate we share a similar reaction to Olbermann's comments.
With all respect, I think I understand you may have a problem in that I expanded my thoughts on the Olbermann comments on Syke's to include the mix of the large crowd that evening, but I just couldn't pass up the opportunity.
Irony is a cornerstone of Dada's Dally, especially in instances when the hobnobbing and bed sharing between our gov't reps and special interests (to include the media) on nights such as these could result in the the kind of devastation that costs millions of Americans the loss of their jobs, their homes, their retirement plans and in the extreme, family members in bogus wars.
In this case it wasn't the size of the occasion that mattered to Dada (the more the better). But it's the principle that does. I have a lot of difficulty with the fun and frolic between groups that should be far more adversarial.
Sadly, while Olbermann and Rumsfeld didn't share the same table (that would have made for excellent imagery!), at least a post-dinner dance didn't erupt, for who knows how much more intimate the pols and Fourth Estate might have gotten ala a David Gregory - Karl Rove cha cha, tango, jerk or whatever.
Rumsfeld dancing with a press member? Now, that would have been GREAT irony.
Sorry that part didn't work for you.
Code Pink sure does have a special kind of welcome for the likes of Rumsfeld. Gotta love the ladies in their pink outfits greeting Rummy.
The way that one woman was towering over him (made him look so small!) He had a fake smile on, but also looked skiddish-- like he hoped security would intervene quickly.
Wonder if he went straight to the bar???
Fran: Yes, that was Desiree Fairooz, that in-your-face Rumsfeld tongue lasher. The same Desiree Fairooz with blood stained hands in-your-face Condoleezza Rice chider from some months back.
Did you notice Medea saying to Rummy's companion he was accompanying, "I'm sorry...." (I imagined her finishing by saying, "but you should be more careful whose company you're seen in in public.
So, at what point does all the peace start? I mean, now that Obambi's attempting to be president & dissent is no longer patriotic, when do you declare victory and stop telling one another how incredibly righteous you all are for acting like martyrs?
Your gyno-goddesses are are certain to get a big Hollywood contract any day now...here's hoping they give you a cut of the take. After all, that's the motive behind the drama. People used to wonder why "peace protesters" were always so violent & shockingly stupid, but they soon realized that peace wasn't the point - national recognition was. You may as well stop trying to fool everyone; we know you, like the sagging vaginas you're shilling for in it for the money & fame. But at least in that, and only that, they were successful.
Did they let you sniff their crotches at least? I'd feel even more sorry for you if I thought you were selling out for nothing...well, even more so.
I hope Desiree Failooz gets her own Academy Award and her star in front of Mr. Chow's in Hollywood. She's certainly worked hard on her script & has her part down.
Laughing: Thanks for stopping by. I think you made a great start by asking the question we all want the answer to, "So at what point does all the peace start?"
I suppose when dad's stop dropping their kids off at school in NV, CO, wherever, before going to work in a darkened room full of panels of flashing lights and overhead displays from Predator drones from which bomb tipped missiles are launched at his touch of a button, killing Afghan and Pakistani kids (oh, innocent men AND women).
Oh, and when all the other reality cognitive dissonance "takes" from which we suffer are but distant memories from more primitive times like the 21st Century; such pathologies as bigotries from racism to misogyny (thanks for illustrating that one) are ended.
But sadly, we are Homo sapiens and I don't expect that to ever happen. However, wouldn't it be nice if, like the Annual White House Correspondent's Dinner, one night a year the whole damn country could sit down and suspend their antipathies for one another for the moment and have a few great laughs over banquet food before resuming the next day our talents for destroying the planet?
Yeh, I can't imagine that either.
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