Lance the Republican Boil

Dick apologizes to his reader for yet another absence. It has been a very discouraging summer for all kinds of reasons, not the least of which is the unravelling of the Obama project south of the border. Anyone not infected with the Repugnican swine virus can only look upon the spectacle being played out in so-called town halls across the States, and despair. Is there no more feckless a thing than the Democratic party, which postures about bringing change, but which, stinking of insurance money, melts like ice in August in the face of hate-spewing thugs and racists?

One must question how a nation like the United States, where most polls routinely put support for a "public option" (which would provide health insurance for those unable to obtain it in the private market) at 70%, has managed to cower before the stupidest and loudest of its people, people who in almost any other nation would be objects of eye-rolling and derision, people who clearly seem to be off their meds. Charles Blow had the right diagnosis for them in the New York Times: "Hateful people are loud — to disguise their cowardice and shame."

If Obama jettisons the public option, his health bill will end up being an abortion, and he will risk falling into what characterized Clinton after he got mired in the health care bog—a period without much focus (albeit one in which the economy largely boomed), characterized by little initiatives and PR-schtick (a bridge to the 21st century, anyone?)—in short, boutique progressivism. Obama needs to stop Kumbaya-ing the right wing crazies and move ahead. After all the spectacle of the last six months, does he honestly think he can achieve the Holy Grail of bipartisanship with a Republican party whose leadership speaks of death panels and churns out lie after lie, such as Stephen Hawking being euthanized by the National Health Service in Britain?

The Repugnicans, since losing last November, do not deserve any longer to be treated as serious players in the health care debate, or any other issue for that matter. The party has degenerated to little more than a festering cyst, like the one on Rush Limbaugh's ass—you know, the one that prevented him from becoming a Vietnam war hero. It's time for Obama to move on, and leave these spittle-flecked mouth breathers at the side of the road, where they belong.

They weren't so Grrrr-eat!

The end of the 30-year Sri Lankan kill-a-thon, howsoever brutally it might have been at the end, is a blessing, if an ugly one.

It is possible to have a just cause and still in the end not deserve to prevail in struggle, and the case of the LTTE (Tamil Tigers) illustrates this, as does the experience in Ireland, which has more or less successfully emerged from decades of murderous civil conflict. Taking up arms against oppression carries extreme moral risk. As happened with the IRA, the longer one is forced to continue to conduct armed conflict, the more likely one is to attract, in addition to those committed to the cause, those merely committed to the criminal and homicidal. The Tigers earned a reputation for a particularly sick version of ruthlessness, visited upon vast numbers of even their own community, drafting the entire population at gunpoint into their war, kidnapping children to turn them into soldiers, itself a crime against humanity, and training cadres of suicide bombers (something for which you never saw the leadership volunteering). They crossed irretrievably into the irredeemable when one of their suiciders assassinated then-Indian PM Rajiv Gandhi in the early 90s, because he had the gall to send peacekeepers to Sri Lanka.

This is not to diminish the culpability of the Sinhalese, who have their own atrocities to account for, going back decades. In a perfect world, there will be a war crimes trial for all those who participated in massacres of Tamils in the early 80s, which lit the fuse on this conflict, as well as for those Tigers responsible for forcing children to fight, and for waging suicide terror, to list only two. The Sri Lankan government are victorious, but victorious like the Russians, who "won" their war in Chechnya by utterly destroying it, thus ensuring that down the road we will be treated to a comeback performance.

In the end, history will look upon the Tigers not so much as freedom fighters, but as the Sri Lankan version of the Khmer Rouge.

Lyin' Brian

Dick is back from his spring tour of the Tropic of Torpor.

What is there left to say about Myron Bullroney? Anyone harbouring a shred of sympathy for this pompous, venal gladhander should take the time to read Andrew Coyne's take-down of him in Maclean's magazine, (normally not a publication I'm drawn to, since one would have to come across the sneering "what the fuck are you looking at, asshole?" gaze of the loathsome Mark Steyn). Coyne has been on the Mulroney-Schreiber case like a bloodhound, and his eviscerations of the greasy former PM should finally put to rest any questions as to whether he has, as he would have it, been unfairly pilloried in the court of public reckoning. Mulroney's performance at the Oliphant inquiry, the one he demanded from Stephen Harper so he could rescue his "good name" from the blizzard of allegations that he basically took kickback money from the Airbus affair, was a case study in maudlin self-pity. What is amazing is that he could have believed he would emerge from an examination of his relationship with such a low-life as Schreiber with an intact reputation.

As Coyne devastatingly shows, at the end of this sordid affair, Mulroney has still never answered head on the question of why he took this cash.

There may have been a time when having a whiskey tenor could open doors for the congenital bullshitter, but the Oliphant performance showed clearly that this time is past. In the end "I, Martin Brian Mulroney," who pledged to show up at the inquiry "with bells on," emerged looking like a clown.

This is a pity in some sense. Canadians who saw him every day and tired of his schtick might be inclined not to recall that Mulroney did Canada proud on a number of international files, most especially his leadership in helping rally the world community to the unfolding catastrophe in Ethiopia in 1984, and in his steadfast refusal to join with Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan in blocking action against the apartheid regime in South Africa. That he would sully this record with the spectacle of taking cash in envelopes from a shady professional palm greaser will continue to puzzle, since he never gave a coherent account of it when he had the stage to himself.

Church of the Unclad Schlong

So Papa Ratzo, otherwise known as Pope Benedict 16, has concluded that the Bishop Williamson affair was not handled all that well. By him, that is. After it was pointed out that a simple Google search would have sufficed to tip off the Vatican about Williamson's Holocaust denial, it was revealed that no one in Ratzo's inner circle had any clue about this newfangled intertube thingy. Which gives you a pretty good idea of just how sclerotic and clueless are the people the Pope has surrounded himself with.

Let's charitably assume that these worthies are not counted among those Catholic clergy who have put their penises ahead of their faith, and that none of them has parked his pecker where it is not allowed, in particular, in the orifices of the most vulnerable of the faithful. As I've had occasion to note, that such a collection of robed virgins, not a female among them, is uniquely placed to lecture the rest of the world on issues of sex and family life is one of the more hilarious conceits of Catholic thinking. In comedic terms, it has shown itself to be the gift that keeps on giving, as evidenced by Ratzo's recent swing through Africa. In this case, the only orifice being filled was his mouth, and by his foot.

The Church's record, when it comes to the issue of AIDS and how best to keep it from ravaging Africa, is one of shame. It has lobbied long and hard against the use of condoms, because, as we know from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life, it is more important for the Church to ensure that every sperm remains sacred than to save actual lives. This was true with J2P2, and if we had any doubt that it is also true of Ratzo, he put it to rest with his contention that condoms, which have been known to help cut the incidence of sexually transmitted diseases, actually make the AIDS situation in Africa worse: "you can't resolve it with the distribution of condoms.... On the contrary, it increases the problem."

One can see the intellectual laziness in this position. Rather than be honest and say, "we know that condoms can help protect against AIDS (although not perfectly), but we have a moral principle that keeps us from accepting the use of condoms among our believers, and therefore we do not support their use for Catholics," Ratzo instead doubled down, disputing what virtually every other person not addled by dogma could see, and claimed that somehow condoms increased the suffering caused by AIDS. Of course, not one single piece of evidence was offered to support this transparently ridiculous claim. Perhaps Ratzo and his perfumed coterie feel that his status as Virgin-in-Chief is sufficient to create this new upside-down reality.

What next from this Pope? Given that he's already used both his feet to fill his cakehole, can we now expect to see him walking on his hands? Given his predilection for pompous inanity, we won't have to wait long to find out.

Making Catholicism safe for Mel Gibson

I would like to preface the following by noting that I was born into the bosom of the Catholic Church, raised by devout Catholics, taught by Christian Brothers. I served Masses, sang in the choir, and was altar boy of the year in my parish. I have experienced firsthand all the good that can flow from people whose faith has informed their lives. I also witnessed, however, the physical and sexual abuse that was often meted out by those who wear the "uniform" of the Church—particularly the brothers and priests—as well as the arrogance that animates the pronouncements coming out of Rome, and out of bishops and other officials who have done so much to advance causes that, despite being given cover by their collar, promote hatred and sow division among people. Although brewed a Catholic and imbued with many of its teachings, I have found it impossible to stay in the Church, since some of what look to be its core values are ones I absolutely reject, in particular its rejection of full membership for women, its homophobia, its misogyny, and its twisted and backward views on sexuality (not surprising, given the ludicrousness of celibate misogynists setting themselves up as experts on family life). Add to that list now its racist bigotry, thanks to Joseph Ratzinger, aka Benedict 16.

Ever since his predecessor J2P2 told Catholics that anti-Semitism was in fact a sin, Der Kurrent Pope has kept a special place in his heart for Jew haters and other ding-dongs who long to return to the bosom of Mother Church, and has now welcomed some of them back with open arms. Last year, when Ben16 relaxed rules to allow the return of the Latin Mass, one of the effects of this was to reinstate the Good Friday prayer that seeks the conversion of the Jews (who we all know "murdered" our Lord and Saviour on the Cross). This reinstatement is odd, given that the Church has, since Vatican II, rejected the notion of collective guilt for Jews for the crucifixion, but Ratzinger seems unbothered by this. Four bishops of a schismatic sect who rejected the Church in the wake of Vatican II reforms and who have referred to both Popes J2P2 (who excommunicated them) and Benedict16 as "heretical"—among them Richard Williamson, a very vocal Holocaust denier who also claims that the US staged the 9/11 attacks so they could go to war in Afghanistan—have been welcomed back into the Church, apparently without having so much as to recant any of their repulsive bigotry. Days after this, B16 promoted ultra-conservative Father Gerhard Maria Wagner to assistant bishop of Linz, in Austria. Father Wagner believes, among other things, that Harry Potter spreads Satanism, and that hurricane Katrina and the flood of New Orleans were divine retribution for the city's tolerance toward sex and gays. He was particularly pleased that in addition to brothels and clubs, the Katrina disaster hit five of the city's abortion clinics.

One can just imagine a boy's night out with the likes of "Bishop" Williamson, Father Wagner, and Hutton and Mel Gibson. Not to mention that Neo-Nazi waste of skin, Ernst Zundel, who found himself enthusiastically defended by Williamson years ago when the latter was in Canada.

Frances Kissling put it best in the New Republic, "It is not merely discouraging or problematic that Pope Benedict XVI is making nice with a Holocaust denier, or mending fences with a splinter group of ultraconservative anti-Semites, it is sick and evil."

What kind of church is it that (or equally, what kind of a spiritual leader is it who) will welcome back into their midst someone who bears false witness about one of the most horrific episodes in human history, who in so doing continues to perpetrate a hate crime? Those who might be tempted to find the answer to this in Joseph Ratzinger's being German should note that German Chancellor Angela Merkel tore a strip off him over this, and that many prominent German Catholics have raised a holy ruckus, so much so that only today the Vatican declared that Williamson would have to recant his Holocaust denial as a condition of his being brought back into the Church. The Vatican also stated that Ratzinger didn't know about Williamson's views before asking him back in. This latter shit-eating statement cannot but be a lie, yet another sin to be added to this catalogue of shame for the Church.

It will take a long time, and a new Pope at a minimum, before the stain of this will wash off the leadership of the Church. In the meantime, those clerics who preach hatred, and all those who enable them in the Church need to be told to go to hell.

Free at Last

This is almost as deep into winter as you can get, and it feels like it. It was brass-monkey cold all last week, and the air has been thick with Bush's pathetic attempts to spin his place in history, a stupid man frantically trying to polish a turd. Many fatuous words were spoken about a library and a book from the Bushes—apparently Laura believes there's a lot we would pay $40 to find out from her. Frat Boy Smirk himself is said to be keen to sharpen his favourite crayon and give it a go. That would give him a two-book head start on filling up his new lie-berry. Presumably the new facility will feature stations where weary readers can go to have their reading calluses treated. Signs will hang from the ceiling reminding the various visiting Bush scholars: "REMEMBER: Lips together when reading."

One hopes for the day when Bush and Cheney will have their Pincohet moment, charged with war crimes and unable to travel for fear of being taken off the plane and sent to The Hague. The world showed it was serious when it hauled Milosevic and Karadzic (and soon, one hopes, Mladic) before the International Criminal Court. It should show no less zeal in seeking to add Bush and Cheney to this butchers' gallery. It would be worth paying to see W try to smirk and chuckle his way through a war crimes trial. He'd look good in orange.

Here in the Great White North, Prime Minister Doughboy gets a second chance to get it right with a budget next week. OpLeader Ignatieff makes noises that if it contains broad tax cuts, the Libs won't vote for it, and we're back to coalition time. However, Ignatieff never liked the coalition idea and will try to steer around it if he can. Harper may accommodate him, since he may realize that playing chicken this time around will see him in Stornaway post-haste. However, since he likes to campaign far more than govern, Harper may just decide to pull another adolescent stunt and force a crisis—election or coalition?—which would provide plenty of drama and keep everyone distracted from the world of hurt coming our way in the next several years. Harper may decide that now is not the time to be running things, since as the recession deepens, people will find out that at the end of the day, Sweater Boy, like his hero W, is really interested in rewarding his friends, and has no particular interest in, or talent for, running an economy for the benefit of everyone. Let's hope he takes financial wizard Patricia Croft's advice on how to weather the coming storm, delivered on TV on January 9: "batten down the hatchets."

Harper has decided his quest for a reformed Senate is doomed, as any first year poli sci student could have told him and Preston Manning back in the 90s, when this idea was trotted out as part of the sacred Reform canon. A quick look at the formula for amending the constitution (it basically requires unanimity from the provinces and federal government), not to mention memories of the great fun we all had the last time we tried doing it, could have saved the Reformistas a lot of grief. Then again, Reformers were never more happy than when angry and venting their own special brand of sour gas. In any event, Harper appointed 18 new warm bodies to the upper chamber, including media stars Mike Duffy and Pamela Wallin, skier Nancy Green Raine and 15 other hacks, this while the House was prorogued. It might be argued that this is nothing more than facing political reality, and it is something he would rather not do if he had his druthers, but this can't be said of his decision to appoint a new Supreme Court justice without running it by a parliamentary committee, something he crowed about doing in 06. Apparently, Stevie doesn't think getting MPs' input on such appointments is worth it this time. Easy come, easy go. Back to Square One.

Still no word from the secret committee of anti-abortion MPs on how they intend to outlaw abortion without anyone finding out. Stay tuned. Or not.

Prince Harry, who distinguished himself a couple of years ago for showing up at a costume party dressed as a Nazi (perhaps in affectionate remembrance of his great-grand-uncle Edward VIII/Duke of Windsor, legendary bon vivant, Nazi sympathizer and likely traitor), has called a Pakistani member of his regiment "our little Paki friend," but we are told it is meant as a term of affection, as is, apparently, "raghead," another nickname he is fond of using. Harry comes by his racism honestly: daddy Charles affectionately refers to polo-playing friend Kuldip Dhillon as "Sooty", and Charles' daddy, notorious horse's ass Prince Philip, famously told British students in China they would end up "slitty-eyed" if they stayed there much longer. As for Harry, he continues in the tradition of other "spares" to the heirs, like Princess Anne, who must be kept occupied lest they open their mouths and Philip's genes kick in. If one prefers to treat things royal as a matter of animal husbandry, as is often done, Harry can soon be expected to get to work fashioning a suitable breeding arrangement, by way of marriage. His role as spare is not done, of course, until William suitably discharges himself of his responsibilities in this matter, with his own pair of spawn. And who knows? One need only look to the aforementioned Eddy8 to see the wisdom of having someone in the wings who can step in, someone who must share your blood, according to the rules, and, oh, by the way, definitely cannot be a Catholic.

Meanwhile, in the Unholy Land, Israel, having pulverized Gaza over the holidays, is getting out just in time before President Obama is inaugurated and has something to say about this latest murderous incursion. Sadly, it is hard not to see this as being as much about the upcoming Israeli election as anything else, as everyone trips all over themselves trying to out-Likud each other. Israel would like us all to see this as a one-off aimed at silencing Hamas rockets, with no reckoning being made of the effect of decades of Israeli occupation and colonization of Palestinian land, leaving the Palestinians something very much like the detestable Bantustans of apartheid-era South Africa. Media in this country and in the US have drunk the Israeli Kool-Aid; Israel is a fragile vulnerable country surrounded by fanatical mortal enemies, who need periodic doses of Israeli medicine to keep them in line. It is perfectly reasonable to kill 1000 or so Arabs every once in a while, just to show them.

I have come to the depressing belief that Israel and the Palestinians are doomed to a perpetual death-dance. Both are permanently traumatized populations who believe they can will their favoured reality into being. Do Tzipi, or the Ehuds, or Bibi really believe the claptrap they spout about how they will "topple" Hamas and replace it with a government more to their liking? What arrogance is it that looks upon the Palestinians as people allowed to elect only those who meet Israeli approval? As long as Israelis look upon their neighbours this way, there is no way forward.

The Gaza adventure exposes Israel as a country that wants not peace but only quiet. The biggest favour a President Obama could do for Israel is to tell them that they will not receive another red cent from the US until they immediately stop all settlements on Palestinian land, and submit a plan to dismantle the ones already there. If Israel is serious about long-term peace, they cannot pursue it while taking the land from under the Palestinians' feet.

Support for Israel on this side of the pond has sadly come down to support for the Likud view of never-ending violence and war, something dear to Netanyahu's heart. If, God forbid, he wins in February, Israel can look forward to more of the same, a debilitating prospect for anyone interested in her long-term security, but even more maddeningly, understandable in the short term, given Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran have made it a stated aim to see Israel wiped from the map. Welcome to Square One again. The future belongs to those with the rockets, guns and bombs.

I have been to The Beast, Tina Brown's answer to the HuffPost, and sampled some of Conrad Black's ageless prose. Actually, a while back, Black wrote a column in the Globe and Mail defending FDR from the revisionist claptrap of the right wing in the States to the effect that the New Deal actually made the Great Depression worse than it was. Black is always fun to read, and when he practises scholarship, he is at his best. It doesn't hurt that he writes coherently and in complete sentences, either. He seems to be unaware, though, of the ludicrous spectacle of him casting himself in the role of stalwart defender of the wrongfully convicted, something he has announced to the world from his cell through The Beast. Further outpourings from him on this subject are sure to be entertaining. We can look forward to five more years of his tireless work on behalf of those who have been shafted by the system, man.