The Voice of Treason

“He’s a Scotsman, kind of a — he’s not the dour Scotsman that you described him, or the awkward Scotsman; he’s actually the humorous Scotsman, the guy that — we actually were able to relax and to share some thoughts. I was very interested in his family life. He’s a man who has suffered unspeakable tragedy, and instead of that weakening his soul, strengthened his soul.

I was impressed, and I am confident that we’ll be able to keep our relationship strong, healthy, vibrant, and that there will be constant communications as we deal with these problems. As I said, he’s a problem-solver. And that’s what we need as partners. We’ve got a lot of problems we’re dealing with, and we can reach solutions. He’s a glass-half-full man, not a glass-half-empty guy, you know? Some of these world leaders say, oh, the problems are so significant, let us retreat; let us not take them on, they’re too tough. That’s not Gordon Brown. His attitude is, I see a problem, let’s work together to solve it. And for that, I’m grateful.”

– George W. Bush describing Britain’s new Prime Minister

If Gordon Brown is a Scotsman and George W. Bush favors Scottish Terriers, wouldn’t it be smart to adopt a third Scottie and name it Gordon Brown? Nickname him Gordy or Gordo – no, not Brownie… wouldn’t be prudent. In the event that critics might say the new Prime Minister is George Bush’s poodle, the President could always rebut and point out that Gordon Brown is certainly no poodle – it’s obvious he’s a Scottie.

“Separated — yes — by an ocean, we are still united by the streams of history and the strengths of our ideals. Standing together on this foundation we will prevail in the greatest struggles of our times.”

– Prime Minister Gordon Brown

Shared ideals, shared purpose, shared values, shared belief, shared history, shared destiny, shared task. Did I miss one? I’m referring, of course, to Gordon Brown’s op-ed in The Washington Post today. At Camp David, George Bush echoed Brown:

“… The notion of America and Britain sharing values is very important; and that we have an obligation, it seems to me, to work for freedom and justice around the world. And I found a person who shares that vision and who understands the call. After all, we’re writing the initial chapters of what I believe is a great ideological struggle between those of us who do believe in freedom and justice and human rights and human dignity, and cold-blooded killers who will kill innocent people to achieve their objectives.”

That, as Brown might say, is “a partnership of purpose.” I appreciate that the new PM feels comfortable saying the T-word – something none of the Democrat presidential candidates could verbalize at that last “debate” – and I like that he has formulated a description:

“It is our shared task to expose terrorism for what it is — not a cause but a crime. A crime against humanity.”

“Crime” seems a little lightweight to me, but it’s a good start. So, all in all, a lot of talk about sharing and what we share, and I imagine the two leaders shared some intimate details, shared a joke or two, shared some good stories, and shared dinner.

I want to like Mr. Brown – I’m already fond of his voice. (Like, when you close your eyes, Anderson Cooper sounds sort of like Bill Kristol, and Gordon Brown sounds a bit like Christopher Hitchens. Or am I going deaf?)

Anyway, I hope it was a productive meeting and George and Gordon can establish a solid relationship. And why shouldn’t they? After all, their countries share so much.

“I’m a longtime member of a pretty select group: the Dick Cheney Fan Club. Chapters gather in phone booths, refrigerator boxes and, at the annual convention, we take up three whole booths in the back of a nearby Arby’s.

Why do I like Dick Cheney? Because at a time when everybody talks a big game about how they don’t like people-pleasing politicians who live by the polls, Cheney is pretty much the only guy out there who walks the walk. He truly doesn’t care what people think about him. I love that.”

– Jonah Goldberg

Yup — me, too. I, like Mr. Goldberg, father of Cosmo (the “It” Dog of the American Right), am also a card-carrying member of “the Club.” I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I just adore that Dick Cheney. It should be obvious, then, that I’m having a pretty pleasant week. After all, he was officially President for a couple hours and, during that time, I felt as if… well, as if it were morning again in America. An hour of yoga and a dirty martini can’t even bring me to that state of nirvana. And what did the VP/temporary POTUS do during those hours? He spent quality time with the boys: Jackson and Dave. (I like to think of them as the First Labbies.) Now he’s fresh out of the hospital, batteries replaced, and ready to get back to work.

It’s been a big Cheney week: Stephen Hayes is out there with a hefty book and he’s all over TV to promote it. Caught an interview on FNC and another one today on C-SPAN 2 – a delightful chat with Jim Bohannon. When asked about Cheney’s future, Hayes said that he’s done. He won’t seek any other office, he’s finished with public service, he won’t go back to the private sector – no, he’s just going to go be a grandfather and catch up on some fishing.

In a secure and undisclosed location, no doubt.

“What if I were to say to you, ‘Those are Michael Vick’s dogs, and that was his property, and whatever he wants to do with them is his choice, is his right.’”

– Rush Limbaugh

Laura Ingraham was on vacation this week, so I tuned into Rush the other day while I was watering the backyard. He’d been trying to make the point that people seemed more upset over the Vick case and the abuse and deaths of dogs than they were over the deaths of human beings, including Chris Benoit and his family. Where was the outrage there?

I came in on the conversation late, but after a few callers I could predict where Rush was going on this. And that’s when he brought up the “his dogs/his property/his choice/his right” comment. Well, of course he was going to make a statement about abortion, and I felt he had a valid point. For decades this has been the battle cry of feminists: “It’s my body and I’ll do what I want to!”

I’m with them on this: I don’t want any religious organization or government controlling my body or telling me what I can or cannot do with it. But it has always been my belief that such groups would step in and do just that if I could not demonstrate that I was perfectly capable of controlling my body myself. So to pro-choice women I’ve always suggested: “Control yourself so they won’t have to.”

Rumor has it that Democrats are changing their opinion slightly on abortion, but it’s an issue that will never be resolved. I can’t honestly call myself pro-life or pro-choice; instead I like to think of myself as pro-sterilization. I knew when I was four that I never wanted to have children, but doctors refused to take my questions about sterilization seriously.

“You’ll change your mind when you get older, trust me.”

It is as I’d expected: I haven’t. But being a woman who never wanted to have a child or ever be pregnant faces some real problems. What if she does become pregnant? An “easy” solution is abortion. But what if that’s not an option? What if she doesn’t want to abort her child? There’s adoption. The reason I spay and neuter my pets: I don’t trust people to be responsible pet parents, so I would always wonder about the puppy or kitten I gave away. A human child would probably have a better shot at finding a good home, but why take chances?

Now I’m at an age where if I were to get pregnant, I would be taking a significant risk. Women my age do get pregnant and they do deliver healthy babies. But it’s rare. I could very likely have complications and a child might be born with some very serious issues.

Do I want that option to abort a child? Truth be told, I probably do. But would I exercise that option? Frankly, I don’t ever want to find out. A pregnancy for many women is a blessing; for me, it has been and will always be catastrophic. If you don’t ever want to be pregnant and you don’t ever want to have an abortion, what do you do?

Pray for menopause. And take control of your body and hope for the best. Still, abortion is an issue that won’t be bringing the Left and the Right together any time soon. If there is a cause that both sides can rally around, it’s probably the treatment of our pets. Republicans love their dogs and Democrats love theirs. This Vick case is difficult to stomach because we want to be fair – yes, I know, innocent until proven guilty – but too many of us, on either side of the aisle, have already formed our opinion. And, for once, it’s the same.

Rich Lowry has what might be one of the coolest jobs ever: Editor of my all-time favorite publication, National Review. Bill Buckley stepped aside to “retire” awhile back, and Rich – who had been a part of the magazine staff for a few years — stepped in. Pretty damned impressive for a twelve year-old.

Okay, okay, I know Rich isn’t twelve. But when I see him filling in for Sean Hannity or sitting on a panel on some FNC show, I always feel I have to comment on his boyish appearance.

“Oh, there’s Richard! Looking sharp in Dad’s suit and, say, Mom’s trimmed his bangs!”

I’m sorry – he just looks so sweet and innocent… and so damned young. I’m sure it probably annoys him to death, but I’m at that age where I figure he should enjoy it while he can. So when I saw his new coif I was shocked. “Look, look!,” I called out to T. “Rich Lowry has a grown-up haircut! His mom’s not cutting his bangs anymore!”

He blushes and he admits to being an atrocious speller, but at last he looks like an adult. Nowhere near his actual age, but he doesn’t look like he should be carrying Pee-Chee folders and a pencil case around, either.

Richard, you look quite handsome. Congrats on the new do. Keep it trimmed now, you hear?

“My eyes are your eyes to watch and protect you and yours.

My ears are your ears to hear and detect evil minds in the dark.

My nose is your nose to scent the invader of your domain.

And so you may live, my life is also yours.”

– The K-9 Promise, Author Unknown

Canine warriors, dogs who fight on our behalf. No, I’m not talking about those poor souls on Michael Vick’s property – I’m talking about our MWDs. The Military War Dogs who have been working alongside the human members of our armed forces since the First World War and are our forgotten heroes.

To avoid seeing the grisly dogfighting videos that the 24-hour cable news programs are foisting upon us, T and I caught part of Eight Below, a film about an expedition in the Antarctic that goes really South. A fierce winter storm’s coming, so the human team is forced to leave their sled dogs at the camp. The eight dogs are chained down so they won’t get away and get lost; the plan is to quickly come back and get them. But that doesn’t happen.

We landed on the part where the aircraft is above the eight dogs below, who are there on the ground, looking up, wondering why their humans are abandoning them in all that ice and snow. (This is the point when I started crying and didn’t stop until the end of the closing credits.) T watched me for a few moments, then asked: “What’s with these Disney movies?”

It’s just a film, you say. Yes, but there’s a lesson to be learned here. You don’t leave your comrades behind. The military knows that, but it’s obvious that we civilians haven’t quite grasped that concept.

But even our military breaks the promise. About 4900 canine warriors served in Vietnam and of that number, only 204 dogs exited the war zone. Some stayed in the Pacific, a few came home, but none returned to civilian life. Most of these brave dogs were euthanized, many were handed over to the South Vietnamese Army, and the rest were just left to fend for themselves.

We cut and ran, leaving our comrades behind. Leaving those who had helped us, yet depended on us, behind. Surely we’ve had enough time to study and reflect on the result of our actions; surely we wouldn’t consider similar measures again.

There are a handful of memorials in the U.S. honoring our four-legged soldiers, but there is presently no official national memorial in place. Such memorials honor not only the dogs and their service, but they symbolize the “special connection” humans share with dogs. Still, despite the thousands of stories of bravery and selflessness, Military War Dogs are often thought of equipment rather than personnel. Some even believe that awarding a dog for his service demeans his human counterpart. Soldiers who know the truth, and the value of their canine comrades, are routinely awarded the Bronze or Silver Star, and when the medals are accepted the soldiers kneel at the side of their best buddies and fasten them to their collars, saying that the four-legged soldier is the one who really deserves the honor.

“The fate of animals is of greater importance to me than the fear of appearing ridiculous; it is indissolubly connected with the fate of men.”

– Emile Zola

It is time to honor these dogs; it is time for a commemorative stamp and an official memorial; it is time that we recognize and reward our greatest allies, our best friends, our devoted protectors, our four-legged forces.

4. We reaffirm our commitment to the principles and true teachings of Islam which abhor aggression, value peace, tolerance and respect as well as prohibiting the killing of innocent people;

5. We reject any attempt to link Islam and Muslims to terrorism as terrorism has no association with any religion, civilization or nationality;

6. We reiterate that preventive action taken to combat terrorism should not result in ethnic or religious profiling or the targeting of a particular community…

10. We reject any attempt to link terrorism to the struggle of the Palestinian people in the exercise of their inalienable right to establish their independent state with Al-Quds Al-Sharif as its capital;

11. We reject any attempt to associate Islamic states or Palestinian and Lebanese resistance with terrorism, which constitutes an impediment to the global struggle against terrorism;

12. We condemn Israel for its escalating military campaign against the Palestinian people, including the daily brutalization and humiliation of its civilians, resulting in mounting casualties, strangulation of the Palestinian economy, systematic and indiscriminate destruction of houses and residential facilities as well as infrastructure, institutions and structures of the Palestinian National Authority…

– Kuala Lumpur Declaration On International Terrorism, Adopted at the Extraordinary Session of the Islamic Conference of Foreign Ministers on Terrorism, 3rd day of April 2002 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Farfur, the Islamic version of Mickey Mouse and former star of Tomorrow’s Pioneers — a popular children’s program on Al-Aqsa TV — died earlier this month. The mouse, you see, had received a land deed from his grandfather, and an Israeli official showed up at Farfur’s place to ask him to hand over the documents.

Israeli: Sit down, Farfur…Farfur, we want to buy the land. We will give you a lot of money. You will get a lot of money and we will take the documents.

Farfur: No! We will not sell our land to terrorists!

Israeli: Farfur, I want you to give me the documents — give me the documents!

Farfur: I’m not giving you the documents! Not giving! Not giving!

Israeli: Farfur! Farfur! Hand me the documents!

Farfur: I’m not handing them to criminals, to terrorists!

Israeli: You call us terrorists, Farfur? Take this! Take this! Take this!

Farfur: Stop! Stop!

Saraa’, the show hostess, took a call from a three-year-old viewer.

Saraa’: You saw that the Jews let Farfur die as a Shahid. What do you want to say to the Jews?

Caller: We don’t like the Jews because they are dogs! We will fight them!

Saraa’: No, the Jews are good… the Jews are our friends and we play with them. Isn’t that so?

Caller: They killed Farfur!

Saraa: That’s right… the Jews are criminals and enemies. We must expel them from our land… Yes, children… we lost our dearest friend, Farfur, who was martyred while defending his land and died at the hand of the criminals and murderers, the murderers of innocent children.

Can you say “scarred for life?” If I was a little rugrat sitting in front of the set, munching on Cap’n Crunch, and someone had shown up at Barney’s house and — well, actually, maybe that’s not a very good example… okay, okay, say someone stormed past Frazier Thomas, reached through that little window, grabbed Garfield Goose, and ripped him to pieces, I think I would have grown up with some serious psychological issues.

So Farfur, member of Hamouse, is dead – murdered by a “dirty Jew.” But there’s a downside: a replacement has been hired and this has really been bugging me for, like, two weeks now.

Saraa’: Who are you? And where did you come from?

Nahool: I am Nahool, Farfur’s cousin.

Saraa’: And what do you want?

Nahool: I want to continue the path of Farfur, the path of ‘Islam is the solution.’ The path of heroism, the path of martyrdom, the path of the Jihad warriors. Me and my friends shall continue the path of Farfur. And in his name we shall take revenge upon the enemies of Allah, the murderers of the prophets, the murderers of innocent children, until Al-Aqsa will be liberated from their filth.

Saraa’: Welcome! Welcome, Nahool.

Nahool is a bee. I resent the exploitation of such a fine insect and look forward to the day Nahool becomes a martyr and goes away so I don’t have to be offended. I’m sure the writers have already planned his demise; perhaps Nahool will strap explosives to himself and kill the murderers of his cousin.

Hmmm. Would that, then, make Nahool — a member of the genus Bombus — a bomblebee?

“Vice is its own reward.”

– Quentin Crisp, founding member of the Chappaquiddick Society

The anniversary of Mary Jo Kopechne’s death by slow suffocation came and went last week without much fanfare. She was, as Senator Edward Kennedy described her in his address to the people of Massachusetts, a “gentle, kind, and idealistic person.” And then he carefully explained that, despite rumors of “immoral conduct,” he did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Kopechne.

“It has been written a man does what he must in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles, and dangers, and pressures, and that is the basis of human morality. Whatever may be the sacrifices he faces, if he follows his conscience — the loss of his friends, his fortune, his contentment, even the esteem of his fellow man — each man must decide for himself the course he will follow. The stories of the past courage cannot supply courage itself. For this, each man must look into his own soul.”

– Edward M. Kennedy, July 25, 1969

It’s interesting that Quentin Crisp was associated with the Chappaquiddick Society, a group that routinely awards individuals with something they like to call the “Profile in Cowardice.” No, not a profile in courage – that was associated with another Kennedy. But, like degrees of separation, one doesn’t have to go very far to find connections within the Society. For instance, there’s a Memorial Gallery on the Chappaquiddick Society website and its members include a Miss Norma Jean Baker, a Miss Martha Moxley, and that “gentle, kind, and idealistic” Miss Kopechne. Why it’s interesting that Mr. Crisp is associated with this group is that he, to many, was the modern version of Oscar Wilde – that brilliant, witty flamboyant who wrote a modest little book about someone named Gray.

Strangely, the incident that took place almost 40 years ago, just off the island’s wooden bridge, did not keep the voters of Massachusetts from returning its Senator to office… repeatedly.

“It has been seven years since my first election to the Senate. You and I share many memories — some of them have been glorious, some have been very sad. The opportunity to work with you and serve Massachusetts has made my life worthwhile.

And so I ask you tonight, the people of Massachusetts, to think this through with me. In facing this decision, I seek your advice and opinion. In making it, I seek your prayers — for this is a decision that I will have finally to make on my own…

I pray that I can have the courage to make the right decision. Whatever is decided and whatever the future holds for me, I hope that I shall have been able to put this most recent tragedy behind me and make some further contribution to our state and mankind, whether it be in public or private life.”

A minor driving error. No biggie.

It’s been a few years, but I recall what it was like on the roads in and around Boston: whenever we’d get on the Mass Pike I’d put my hands over my eyes. No, I wasn’t behind the wheel at the time. Personally, if I were a passenger in that part of New England, I think I’d prefer to curl up in a crate and be strapped to the roof of a station wagon with Mitt Romney at the wheel rather than sit right beside Ted Kennedy in his Oldsmobile.

Regarding the CNN/YouTube (Democrat) Debate this evening, you can interpret that any way you wish – whether it’s Hillary going to the closet and grabbing that particular color jacket yet again, Biden extracting his foot from his mouth (yet again), Edwards flashing that fatty tongue of his, or… well, you can use your imagination.

I, as a citizen, have a question, too. During the last debate, technical problems were blamed on the weather. What is CNN’s excuse for tonight?

“Honor is the most expensive virtue. None of life’s pleasures are worth anything without honor.”

– Corporal Mark Finelli, who became a Marine after surviving the collapse of the World Trade Center

In today’s Parade, there’s an article about the new demographics of Major League Baseball. Currently, there are 246 players who were born outside the United States. There are 208 players who were born in Latin America or the Caribbean — mostly Dominicans, Venezuelans, and Puerto Ricans. There are 18 players who were born in Asia. In 2006, there were 100 African-American players. That is only 8.4% of all players, down from 19% in 1994. The MLB says that much of this decline can be explained by the fact that boys just prefer to play basketball and football now. Gary Sheffield says there are other reasons. It’s preference, all right, but it’s the MLB’s preference to hire Latino players from outside the U.S. over black players from America’s inner cities because it’s easier “to control them.”

Hmmm. Perhaps the NFL and NBA should start recruiting more of these “controllable” types. Do you know how many NFL players have been arrested this year? I won’t even mention the one who was just indicted for crimes against canines – the one who plays for, as T calls them, the Atlanta Foul Cons.

I’m reminded of Don Mattingly, T’s favorite Yankee, and how he was ordered by management to trim his hair. It seems so quaint now, but back then it was quite the controversy. Mattingly refused to comply and was dropped, albeit briefly, from the lineup. Even today George Steinbrenner will not tolerate his players wearing long hair or beards. There is a particular code for players and they must “understand what it is to be a Yankee.” Do not disrespect those pinstripes, worn by the likes of Lou Gehrig, and show your Yankee pride. Get thee to a barber!

I’ve heard rumors that the Cubs had a similar rule, a dress code. Something like, if you’re on the road with the team, when you leave the clubhouse and get on that bus, you represent the team of Tinker, Evers and Chance, of Banks, Williams, and Santo, of Sandberg, Dawson, and Grace – as well as the great city of Chicago — so you’d best be looking your best.

Watching the Cubs get on board the team bus outside Candlestick Park, I suspected this story might have been true. They all looked like they were headed to a wedding. But back then there were certain standards. Some argued that some of these seemed unreasonable, but I always supported the decisions demanding certain behavior from the players.

The horror, for me, started with the appearance of those heavy gold figaro chains that looked more and more like canine choke collars. Then came the enormous diamond studs. The bling, the long hair (frankly, few things look dumber than a baseball player with long hair), the black crap under Will Clark’s eyes… I don’t care if there was a valid reason for the schmear – it was, to me, a violation of baseball decorum. It’s when players stopped being part of a team and became overpaid, obnoxious individuals.

I don’t watch football or basketball, and after the fisticuff in the Cubs dugout I stopped watching baseball this season. I’ve written here many times about what made me a baseball fan and what kept me a fan even after all the disappointments and disgraces. For instance, when I was nine and my sister had brought me to Uptown Federal Bank to stand in line with what seemed like a million other Cubs fans to meet Ernie Banks and Randy Hundley. It was 1969 and the line stretched for blocks. Hours had passed, it was getting late, and I was worried.

“There’s no way they’ll stay. We’ll never get up there in time. We’ll never meet them. We’ll never get to tell them how much we appreciate what they’ve done.”

My sister was worried about the time, too.

“You realize, of course, it’s going to get dark soon and we’re going to be killed in this neighborhood, don’t you?”

Yet Banks and Hundley stayed until every last fan had passed through the bank and had shaken their hands. Quite a different experience from the one T had with his brother at the Oakland Coliseum several years later. T’s brother worshipped a particular player and, like dozens of other young men, called out to him from the crowd. He didn’t stop to acknowledge the kids who had lined up to see him; instead, he walked past them as they called out “Tony! Tony!,” and said only this:

“That’s my name — don’t wear it out.”

And so, much like the name of that Atlanta Foul Con, it’s one simply not worth mentioning here.