« Welcome to planet dry gulch Mr and Mrs McJobsmurf | Main | Pecoration »

Home is the sailor

By Michael J. Smith on Friday September 25, 2009 05:54 PM

I'm back from my almost eight-week refrigerium -- two weeks sailing to Maine, three weeks there, two weeks and change sailing back. Anyone interested in the travelogue can read about it -- incrementally -- on a different blog.

Now we turn again to the high seriousness of SMBIVA....

It ain't easy. I got strangely disconnected, during these weeks, from all the stuff I normally love to fume about. The vileness of the Democrats, the silliness of the Republicans, the sour comedy of health-care "reform" -- it all looked very tiny and far away, like a marionette theater seen through the wrong end of a telescope. No doubt this phase will pass and underlying character will reassert itself. But for the moment, some easing-in seems to be needed.

My main source of news out on the water, especially on a long offshore passage at night, was the radio -- and specifically NPR, when I couldn't find a good Christian station with one of those wonderful pulpit orators who can hold you spellbound for hours on end.

Shallow stuff, I know, NPR. The hours they spent handwringing about that yahoo from South Carolina -- Wilson? -- who called Obie a liar! You'd think the firmament was falling, and the rock-ribbed earth turned to jelly.

Needless to say, I'm with Wilson. Not because I think he's anything more than a rabid howling baboon, or because Obie was lying -- at least, no more than usual -- but because I really approve of disrespect: disrespect to the man, disrespect to the office, disrespect for the hallowed halls of Congress and its Royal Nonesuch pinky-in-the-air politesse. The sooner the whole sorry pompous gasbag spectacle turns back into the Jerry Springer show -- as it was back in the vigorous youth of the Republic, with canings and duels and whatnot -- the happier I'll be.

The only story that really caught my ear, with the sound of a second shoe dropping, was the news that those ridiculous anti-missile missiles would not be placed in Poland after all. Score one for Bearzilla!

I saw it coming a week or two before, in a radio interview with the Polish foreign minister, a fey puckish fellow whose name I didn't quite catch. This humorous chap was asked about the missiles -- remember, this is before Obie has eaten crow and taken them back -- and the droll Pole observed that "we didn't really want them. Our longtime ally the United States wanted to deploy them, and of course, we're old friends, we said yes."

Oho, sez I to myself -- or maybe even out loud, with no one around to hear except the gulls. Those missiles will never go in. And for once I was right.

It's a fool's game to speculate about what was said in meetings you weren't invited to, but sometimes it's hard to resist. I will go out on a limb here and say this was the quid-pro-quo for keeping the Manas air force base open in Kyrgyzstan -- so we can keep bleeding ourselves in Afghanistan, the way Zbig Brzezinski bird-dogged the Sovs into doing back in the day.

How the Russkis must be chortling. We've got ourselves now where we had them thirty years ago. We're having to pay top dollar to their boyos in Bishkek, and crawl away from our forward policy in Eastern Europe in order to keep paying, and keep bleeding.

Of course this climb-down enables Obie to look like a more reasonable person -- to his easily-fooled domestic base -- than the half-witted chimp who preceded him. Obie, the libs will reason, understood that this was a senseless provocative move, and because he's a sensible person, he took the sensible course.

I don't think so. I think Putin & Co. had him over a barrel -- and a good thing, too -- and McCain would have had to do the very same thing, if he wanted to stay in Afghanistan.

As Obie clearly does.

Comments (4)


hey skipper
lose the pearly beard bit

we know what shore
you really
washed up on

not that there's anything wrong with that
.......outside the sacristy

Al Schumann:

I thought for sure you'd sailed to Venezuela. Now that you're back, I'm going to have to retract all the rumors I've been spreading. That's a lot of work.


Venezuela may be next. May have to be. Or Cuba, anyway. You'd think I could get that far, anyway.

Years ago I remember talking with Owen about the European Communist parties, particularly the Italian party, the PCI.

I know, I know, Owen said, they're sellouts and stooges and all that, but jeez, you go to Bologna and you see the hammer and sickle over City Hall and if that doesn't stir your blood you're a hopeless case.

Al Schumann:

People have been demanding of me for years, "well you hate America so much, why don't you move to Cuba?"

I've given it some thought, believe me. Fidel is a sharp observer, still, and Hugo comes to visit. Selfishly, I could get better health care. I could just plain get health care. My antique skills could find employ. My up to date skills could too. Both likely under conditions I'd find far superior to the idiot pantomimes of corporate and "freelance" employment. I'll bet Granma would carry the occasional diatribe against the Democrats.

I'm hard pressed to think of ways in which I'd be worse off.


Post a comment

Note also that comments with three or more links may be held for "moderation" -- a strange term to apply to the ghost in this blog's machine. Seems to be a hard-coded limitation of the blog software, unfortunately.


This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on Friday September 25, 2009 05:54 PM.

The previous post in this blog was Welcome to planet dry gulch Mr and Mrs McJobsmurf.

The next post in this blog is Pecoration.

Many more can be found on the main index page or by looking through the archives.

Creative Commons License

This weblog is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
Powered by
Movable Type 3.31