Please Vote for My Friend and Mentor, Kathleen Maher

Note from Utah Savage--I was unable to link the weblog logo so linked the line I want you to vote for. Please support this fine writer. Without support from you and this generous, talented writer I'd still be writing in a vacuum, alone with my thoughts and thousands of words. Thank you for your support, Peggy

Diary of a Heretic is a finalist for Best Literature Blog. Voting is just a two-click process--no registration required. First click here, then click on the voting button for Diary of a Heretic. The polls are open through January 12. Please vote every day! And while you're at it, click here to vote for The View From Here as Best UK Blog. To read more about the contest and other notable entrants, click here.

Posted by Kathleen Maher on Jan 05, 2009 |

Presidential Records; Bush Wants Them Sealed Indefinitely

The Bush administration has been trying to seal presidential records since he first got into office. This must be stopped. It shows the nation the path to this economic disaster and the mistakes of three Republican administrations--St Ronnie, Pappa Bush, and Junior. This must be blocked and congress needs to act swiftly and decisively to keep Presidential Papers Public, for historians, for a guide for all to study as a way to prevent future economic disasters and horrible military blunders. We need to know what we've done and what the consequences were in order to set the record straight for historical reasons as well to put to bed the lie that unfettered corporate rule is the best way to grow and prosper. Perhaps it is if you're in the top 1% of the economy. For the rest of us, it's just corporate welfare at the expense of the taxpayer.

There are, of course, other reasons to have public access to these records and that's to know and understand how our civil rights have been stripped from us in the guise of keeping us safe.

Editorial posted below

Editorial
Who Owns White House History?


It’s time to remind President Bush as he leaves office that his White House records are not his personal property. They belong to the nation. The Presidential Records Act made that the law of the land after the Watergate scandal. Showing disturbing forethought, Mr. Bush signed an executive order in his first year, effectively decreeing that a sitting or former president can withhold his papers indefinitely

Congress is moving to strike down the Bush order. The House has overwhelmingly approved a corrective measure that has a good chance in the Senate. If there’s any delay, we urge President-elect Barack Obama to issue his own executive order restoring the Presidential Records Act as soon as he enters the White House.

When Mr. Bush signed his order, the speculation was that he was hoping to spare the disclosure of some inner-sanctum embarrassments committed by his father’s administration or perhaps Ronald Reagan’s. Now, with so much of the latest Bush history needing to be plumbed from Baghdad to Wall Street, a robust public records law is ever more crucial for robust democracy.

The law already provides former presidents reasonable protection, letting them withhold sensitive records, including advice from aides, for up to 12 years. While the the Bush White House claimed that the order merely put an organized process in place, the result was to gut the presumption of public access.

Under the current rules, requests for records require the concurrence of a concerned former president or his descendants plus the current president. They have unlimited time to judge the issue. Beyond that, historians must resort to litigation. This is a pathetic way to cheat history. As the poet Robert Lowell wrote, “All’s misalliance. Yet why not say what happened?”

This Is Why I'm In Love With Rachel Maddow

Paul Krugman Is Worried, So Am I

By PAUL KRUGMAN
Published: December 28, 2008

...as Washington tries to rescue the economy, the nation will be reeling from the actions of 50 Herbert Hoovers — state governors who are slashing spending in a time of recession, often at the expense both of their most vulnerable constituents and of the nation’s economic future.

These state-level cutbacks range from small acts of cruelty to giant acts of panic — from cuts in South Carolina’s juvenile justice program, which will force young offenders out of group homes and into prison, to the decision by a committee that manages California state spending to halt all construction outlays for six months.

Now, state governors aren’t stupid (not all of them, anyway). They’re cutting back because they have to — because they’re caught in a fiscal trap. But let’s step back for a moment and contemplate just how crazy it is, from a national point of view, to be cutting public services and public investment right now.

Think about it: is America — not state governments, but the nation as a whole — less able to afford help to troubled teens, medical care for families, or repairs to decaying roads and bridges than it was one or two years ago? Of course not. Our capacity hasn’t been diminished; our workers haven’t lost their skills; our technological know-how is intact. Why can’t we keep doing good things?

It’s true that the economy is currently shrinking. But that’s the result of a slump in private spending. It makes no sense to add to the problem by cutting public spending, too.

In fact, the true cost of government programs, especially public investment, is much lower now than in more prosperous times. When the economy is booming, public investment competes with the private sector for scarce resources — for skilled construction workers, for capital. But right now many of the workers employed on infrastructure projects would otherwise be unemployed, and the money borrowed to pay for these projects would otherwise sit idle.

And shredding the social safety net at a moment when many more Americans need help isn’t just cruel. It adds to the sense of insecurity that is one important factor driving the economy down.

So why are we doing this to ourselves?

The answer, of course, is that state and local government revenues are plunging along with the economy — and unlike the federal government, lower-level governments can’t borrow their way through the crisis. Partly that’s because these governments, unlike the feds, are subject to balanced-budget rules. But even if they weren’t, running temporary deficits would be difficult. Investors, driven by fear, are refusing to buy anything except federal debt, and those states that can borrow at all are being forced to pay punitive interest rates.

Are governors responsible for their own predicament? To some extent. Arnold Schwarzenegger, in particular, deserves some jeers. He became governor in the first place because voters were outraged over his predecessor’s budget problems, but he did nothing to secure the state’s fiscal future — and he now faces a projected budget deficit bigger than the one that did in Gray Davis.

But even the best-run states are in deep trouble. Anyway, we shouldn’t punish our fellow citizens and our economy to spite a few local politicians.

What can be done? Ted Strickland, the governor of Ohio, is pushing for federal aid to the states on three fronts: help for the neediest, in the form of funding for food stamps and Medicaid; federal funding of state- and local-level infrastructure projects; and federal aid to education. That sounds right — and if the numbers Mr. Strickland proposes are huge, so is the crisis.

And once the crisis is behind us, we should rethink the way we pay for key public services.

As a nation, we don’t believe that our fellow citizens should go without essential health care. Why, then, does a large share of funding for Medicaid come from state governments, which are forced to cut the program precisely when it’s needed most?

An educated population is a national resource. Why, then, is basic education mainly paid for by local governments, which are forced to neglect the next generation every time the economy hits a rough patch?

And why should investments in infrastructure, which will serve the nation for decades, be at the mercy of short-run fluctuations in local budgets?

That’s for later. The priority right now is to fight off the attack of the 50 Herbert Hoovers, and make sure that the fiscal problems of the states don’t make the economic crisis even worse. »

Bush Finds New Ways to Ruin The Government on His Way Out the Door

Keep a close watch on the seemingly "small" things George "Wrecking-ball" Bush is doing as he gives us the finger on the way out the door. He's given our newly elected President Barack Obama and family the finger by refusing to let them move into Blair House during the transition, because some out of office jackass from Australia will be in town on the 15th go get one of Bush's medals of moral turpitude and stupidity or something. So the new President and his family are staying in a hotel. It's merely a slap in the face to the Obama's and we who elected him in overwhelming numbers, but take a listen to the other little goodies he's implementing on the way out of town. These are going to be difficult to undo. So listen and learn, because we'll need to be very smart to fix this cluster fuck.

I'm Sick, But Harry Reid is a Moron

I have an upper respiratory infection that seems better in the daytime and worse at night. Since I already had an appointment scheduled with my doctor to test my clotting factor, I called in Monday to let her know I might need a little more of her time. I'm having trouble sleeping--I wake up gasping for air with coughing fits. I needed a breathing treatment, plus a hefty dose of Prednisone for the next four days along with a Z-Pack. I should be better by Monday. If so, no more Prednisone; if not, I'll taper off the Prednisone gradually. My doctor says she's seeing so much of this infection in her older patients who wait too long to call in, and then end up in the hospital with pneumonia. So, caught early and treated, I should be fine, fast.


Harry Reid's problems are not so easily fixed. Reid is so annoyingly stupid we must find someone with a brain and a less annoying affect to be the Majority Leader of the Senate. Move over Harry, you're too dumb to lead anything. Yes, I know Blago offends us all, but he did one very smart thing in picking Roland Burris to fill Obama's vacant Senate seat.



Burris is qualified to fill the seat and he may be the only Chicago politician who could stand the scrutiny. He is not wealthy enough nor influential enough to buy the appointment, and he is a nice, charming, well spoken... Bla, bla, bla. Yes, Harry Reid has met with Burris and has pronounce him "a nice, charming, well spoken..." "Clean?" was clean the word you were looking for Harry? Yes, the photo ops abound today, more on that tomorrow. But really, Harry, when you put me to sleep while talking to David Gregory on Meet the Press, you're one very dull bit of Milk Toast. Milk-Toast Harry, the Mormon Male, it's time to move over.

I'm Sick, Can You Tell?

Blogging-- One Year and 601 Posts Later

Oh yes I did. Six hundred and one posts in one year. I moved into the little house as a way to simplify my life and live in a space I designed and felt was really mine. It's small, and if I were not so damn averse to the domestic arts, would be a breeze to keep spotless. I was trying to finish a novel I started thirty years ago. I wanted solitude and no distractions. So I moved in with my nineteen year old cat and my ten year old dog. It's very quiet back here. I have my own garden, the gazebo, a private driveway and it's gated. There's even a tennis court across the alley, and if I wanted to, I have permission to use it. My place is posted with "Beware of Dog" signs. No one comes back here uninvited, except Melea. The dogs are serious.

I have a friend in Portland, Larry, (actually he was my very first boyfriend) who said he'd help me do a final edit. When I got ready to send him chunks of the book, our computers were incompatible. I worked on a Dell PC in Word, he worked on a Mac and I didn't know how to convert what I worked on, into something he would be able to read, and he didn't know how either. That's where the charming, capable, and very talented Phillip, of Sitenoise, came into my life. I still have trouble with the lingo. I think it's possible that at least once a week I embarrass or irritate Phillip in one way or another, and yet he keeps talking to me. I could be paranoid, but then again, maybe not. Larry and Phillip were friends, and Phillip was the one who helped Larry (who is also a writer) when he needed technical help now and then. Larry had the nerve to ask Phillip to help me. I often wonder if he regrets the decision to help me out. Because here we are a year and a half later, and now we're linked, publicly.

I'm not sure I've ever met a more generous man than Phillip. If you're Phillip's friend, you're damn lucky. He's smart. He's funny. He can write really well, and does. And he's a patient and persistent teacher. The things I have learned in this short time amaze me every day. I would never have made the attempt to do this without his help. And one of the things he insisted would make a big difference in my writing experience was to get me on a Mac. I love my IMac. It was my last big splurge. Phillip picked the goodies I might need to make my writing life easier. He gave me music files and other goodies. I have the world at my finger tips thanks to Phillips guidance.

Young friends who live in New York were visiting in Salt Lake a year ago and insisted, after reading a small inflammatory opinion piece of mine, that I blog. That's where the 'splaining came into it. Web log eh? So in seconds, David had set up a blogger account for me and we'd given me a name. I was in business. And politics was getting interesting. So here I am, one year later. And though I write about a lot of things, politics is at the heart of it all. Because I believe that everything is political. Everything.

And I'm ready to step it up a notch. I will, of course, need Phillips help. But there's no need to rush into anything. I'm seeing things here and there at your places and I want them too. Oh yes, now I want it all. I want to win a writing contest again. I want to publish at least a story. I'd love nothing more on earth than to publish the novel. And yet, I still haven't made those last few changes, those copy edit niceties like spelling things right. Many of you have helped me there. Thanks. Keep it coming. I owe thanks to so many of you. You are a very generous and kind bunch of people. Diverse, far flung and engaging. My virtual family.

Maybe, like Lisa, the blogger formerly known as Dcup, I'll have a coming out party. Oh, not that kind. I mean write as Peggy and not hide behind the savage exterior. I can hang onto Savage--it is a family name.

Barack Obama, The Most Elegant Man In America (My first post with an enthusiastic one word comment)

The first time I saw him deliver a speech he moved across the stage with a grace and elegance I haven’t seen on stage since Fred Astaire. If you’re under the age of sixty you probably won’t get this reference at all, but the man was it. His career spanned sixty something years. He danced, he sang, he moved with such effortless grace. He was the most influential dancer/choreographer of the twentieth century according to George Balanchine and Rudolph Nureyev . Look him up on Wiki or rent some old Musicals and watch the man move. Forget the funny clothes. I know black and white film is a distraction, but take a look. Fred Astaire could be an ancestor of Barack Obama. Neither man is really pretty, but they both have that long-wristed, lean body that seems to always be slow dancing. And clothes hang on him so beautifully. No politician has ever had his slightly slouchy, dancers way of moving across a stage. So just the visual of him is fantastic. But I’m not talking about just the visual.

Barack Obama is an elegant man in every way we experience him—his voice is pleasing to the ear, and his use of language and phrasing makes the most mundane topic sound meaningful. But no matter how serious or important the topic, his voice and delivery are uplifting, soaring. It’s the reason Will I Am from the Black eyed Peas can make a beautiful song out of a victory speech. He is the man with a Dream for this generation. Every speech he gives is an “I had a dream” speech. His name is musical—a little percussion, a lot alliteration. It is exotic to us, so used to names like George, John, Bill—names so blunt and truncated. He does not need to use words like a cudgel to scare us like our current President—so stupid sounding. George Bush has the most tenuous grasp of his native tongue, making almost all words sound ugly. He couldn’t possibly be as stupid and boorish as he sounds, could he? But it is not just the almost eight years of being embarrassed by the speech of our leader that makes the elegance of Barack Obama’s words feel like a drink of cool, fresh water to the thirsty and tired, waiting to be uplifted and inspired, not just scared by threats from the boogieman Bush who uses words so ineptly that his very dumbness scares us.

Barack Obama has a smile that fills our hearts with hope. It light’s up his face, it lifts our spirits. We have been smirked at by a fake cowboy and his truly scary side-kick Darth Vadar glowering in the background. We haven’t pushed for impeachment for the high crimes of George Bush because we don’t want Dick Chenney as our president, not even for a few months. He really could finish the job Bush started and suspend the Constitution along with the rest of the Bill of Rights. He has his own personal private army of mercenary thugs called Blackwater.

The world is ready to see us right the ship of state, to elect someone who will not only inspire us, but make us proud of who we are. We will all be made more elegant, more eloquent if the leaders of our government set the tone, lead the way. We will again be seen around the world as a beacon of hope, where there is real Liberty and Justice for All. Not just big donors and rich friends. With a little luck and a lot of hard work, we might even get our civil rights back.

The More I See You, The More I Want You

Somehow this feeling just grows and grows.

In all honesty, I don't know how I ever got along without you. So forgive me if I indulge myself in a little more Oscar Peterson playing another great jazz standard. It's written by Harry Warren, lyrics by Mack Gordon and written in 1945, a year after I was born. This is the kind of music I grew up listening to. So it did leave its imprint on me. But since it's my preparation for my blogaversary, you'll just have to indulge me or ignore me, but I'm having fun.

As I Contemplate My First Year of Blogging

While I try to sum up what this past year has meant to me, my first year as a blogger, I went looking through the archived posts, and saw an unfinished draft here and there. But the one that caught my eye and wouldn't let go, was the one titled Lush Life. It has been lush in a Spartan sort of way. I didn't know what a blog was when I began this a year ago tomorrow. I had no computer skills--I used my computer as a Word Processor and storage space for the novel I was working on. I was often at war with my computer. I thought I hated computers in general. I saw it as a temperamental machine. It pissed me off mightily when it didn't do what I asked or needed it to do. So as I think about this change in my attitude and the change in my life that the blogging experience has been for me, I give you one more of my favorite Jazz performers playing one of my favorite Jazz pieces.

Poetry Monday

Apologies to All the People in Lebanon
by June Jordan

Dedicated to the 60,000 Palestinian men, women, and children who lived in Lebanon from 1948-1983.

I didn’t know and nobody told me and what
could I do or say, anyway?

They said you shot the London Ambassador
and when that wasn’t true
they said so
what
They said you shelled their northern villages
and when U.N. forces reported that was not true
because your side of the cease-fire was holding
since more than a year before
they said so
what
They said they wanted simply to carve
a 25 mile buffer zone and then
they ravaged your
water supplies your electricity your
hospitals your schools your highways and byways all
the way north to Beirut because they said this
was their quest for peace
They blew up your homes and demolished the grocery
stores and blocked the Red Cross and took away doctors
to jail and they cluster-bombed girls and boys
whose bodies
swelled purple and black into twice the original size
and tore the buttocks from a four month old baby
and then
they said this was brilliant
military accomplishment and this was done
they said in the name of self-defense they said
that is the noblest concept
of mankind isn’t that obvious?
They said something about never again and then
they made close to one million human beings homeless
in less than three weeks and they killed or maimed
40,000 of your men and your women and your children

But I didn’t know and nobody told me and what
could I do or say, anyway?

They said they were victims. They said you were
Arabs.
They called your apartments and gardens guerrilla
strongholds.
They called the screaming devastation
that they created the rubble.
Then they told you to leave, didn’t they?

Didn’t you read the leaflets that they dropped
from their hotshot fighter jets?
They told you to go.
One hundred and thirty-five thousand
Palestinians in Beirut and why
didn’t you take the hint?
Go!
There was the Mediterranean: You
could walk into the water and stay
there.
What was the problem?

I didn’t know and nobody told me and what
could I do or say, anyway?

Yes, I did know it was the money I earned as a poet that
paid
for the bombs and the planes and the tanks
that they used to massacre your family

But I am not an evil person
The people of my country aren't so bad

You can expect but so much
from those of us who have to pay taxes and watch
American TV

You see my point;

I’m sorry.
I really am sorry.




Thank you Liberality for posting this so I could "borrow" it.

Suzanne Horne, The Woman Known as Liquid Illusion

This is Suzanne Horne
I did not know Suzanne, but she gave me two awards. I didn't deserve them. She was so beautiful. Her site, Liquid Illusion, was stunningly gorgeous. It was sumptuous. Languid. Lovely. I could have been kinder, more generous, encouraging, but I did not know... And I think I should have.

I have been visiting her vacant, abandoned site obsessively this evening. I go back to look at her loveliness over and over. She was a poet, but I didn't comment often. I admired her, but I did not tell her enough. I know I couldn't have saved her, but I could have been kinder. I could have been generous with my words. She was a very talented photographer. She deserved more of life than this. She killed herself on Christmas Eve. A woman in her prime. Only forty two.

These are her words

Because:
If I have been a bad girl..........
It may well have depended on the situation at hand.
If I have acted out in a bad way......
I'm sure you know the conditions I was forced to act under.
If I was sneaky........
You'll know I had no choice in the matter.
(No rules in love and war, right?)
If I had bad thoughts dancing in my head.........
like really bad thoughts.....
you'll notice I didn't act upon those.
I just allowed them to dance for awhile.
If I was naughty.............
I was good at it.
No complaints.
Just requests for more.
If I seemed cruel and heartless...........
I just evened the score!
If you see me dressed somewhat like you on Christmas Eve.......
Please take no personal offense.
Consider it a "treat" for someone who has been REALLY good.
Oh, and if you saw me dip the cat's feet in red paint and toss her onto the trampoline.....
Well, you've got me there!
Love,
Liquid

These are the words of Suzanne Horne, Liquid Illusion

I'm In a Real Bad Mood

Disorder and freezing rain with a heavy dusting of snow have turned me into one very pissed off woman today. I've put off getting the radiator flushed and refilled with the appropriate antifreeze for my Dodge, which came here from Tucson, where it didn't need antifreeze that covered temperatures below -5, so now I'm fucked. Can't start the car for fear of cracking the block. I only wanted to start the car so I could run the defroster a while and try to soften the sheet of ice in which the whole vehicle is incased. Oh well, I'll be fine for a few days. But damn it's cold, and it's the kind of cold that sets my teeth on edge. All the walkways and driveways are thick with ice and must be salted. This sets the dogs teeth on edge and makes me feel guilty. But I don't want to break my hip, nor have the mail person break his/her hip and sue me, so salt it is.

I know I should eat, but I don't feel like it. I'm not exactly hungry, just running on empty, so eat I must. One bowl of chili later and I'm still pissed off. I have furiously vacuumed the main room, but now the real test is, will I actually go all the way and vacuum the greenhouse/bathroom, and clean everything like my life depended on it? And who knows, maybe it does.

I have stories half finished and languishing here and there all undone. What an untidy life I lead. I have tiny editorial corrections noted and ready to be made on the novel, but for some reason I keep putting it off. Is this my subtle way of sabotaging myself? Because I have very nearly made a career of sabotaging myself. I did it with every relationship I've ever had. Well with men, anyway. This is not to say the men had no part in the sabotaging.

Tom, refusing to read my writing was a big mistake, just in case you were wondering. Pat, sending me an email telling me you read my blog and like my writing, but can't read the novel, just made me hate you more than I already did. If you "can't read (my) novel" best you tell me why, rather than just leave it hanging there. Of course my question would be "why?" Is it the writing? Is it the content? Are you a pussy? A coward? A stupid asshole? Why bother sending me an email at all, if you're just going to insult me one more time? What is it with certain men? And why do I know so many of this certain type of man? Is it the age of these men? Is it generational? Are all the men my generation assholes? Nick seems to be a very nice man, he's smart, kind, generous. But even Nick refuses to read my fiction. This may end up being my bottom line. Can you read my fiction and tell me how you feel about it? If you don't like it, can you tell me why? I know all these men are readers of fiction. Both Tom and Nick have great taste in books. As for Pat, I have no idea about his reading taste.

I know I'm a difficult woman. How could I not be? If you read my fiction, you would know the answer to this question.

Let the Healing Begin

Jib Jab New Year

Presidential Portraits

Paul Krugman Turns Me On Again

Paul Krugman piece in the NY Times just makes me love him more. Sweet talking, Nobel Prize winning, Krugman is hot. And he's a blogger. I know he's too young for me, but still, smart talking men who seem sweet as well as smart, really get to me. Mummm, I love it when you talk smart to me Krugman.

Remember This

Please remember this, this land does not belong to the oil industry, the coal industry, the Bush family, the Chenney family, or any state government. This land is our land. And we have a responsibility to protect it from those who would destroy it for a last minute money grab. There is no clean coal, no clean oil, no drilling that doesn't drastically impact the environment, no mining that doesn't destroy the land and kill the miners. Lest we forget in the waning days of BushCo, This Land is Our Land.

Quackitude

And not just because it's Rachel Maddow, with Robert Redford talking about Utah, but because it MATTERS. We're talking about things, which once done, cannot be undone. Bush is sticking it to us everyday, quietly, in ways we won't feel for decades because we're too busy trying to survive. The thing I hate most about the prolonged "holiday season" is the absence of news. I'm not even getting my daily email updates. No news awaits me in my inbox. God it's boring. But lest we forget, Rachel Maddow will be back and on the job with the Lame Duck Watch.