Author: Randy Haspel

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant

George Bush has been making the rounds lately,

trying to convince everyone that he wasn’t that bad, but at every turn

he continues to step on his dick. Bush said to Fox “News”: “I didn’t compromise my

soul to be a popular guy.” What soul? And now that Senator Carl Levin has mentioned the potential for indictments

concerning cases of state torture and violating the Geneva Conventions, Bush can look forward to possibly being a very popular guy in federal prison. Leaked GOP talking points encouraged Bushies to say that he “maintained the honor and dignity of the office.” I guess that means he didn’t diddle an intern on his desk. But I would have much preferred that he had screwed his secretary instead of the Constitution. We’re all the blue dress now. Fortunately, George picked up some Iraqi shoes to match.

The shoe-dodging video is like a good Beatles album, where you recognize something new with every listening — in this case, viewing. My initial reaction was shock and outrage. After all, Goober is my president, too. And although I detest the man, his smug, willful ignorance, and the wreckage he has created in the world, I never wished him personal harm. I’ve often thought that perhaps if someone had kicked his ass 35 or 40 years ago, it might have done wonders for his humility problems, but what purpose would that serve now? After all, the shoe-tosser might have heaved something more dangerous while the Secret Service was having a coffee klatch in the back room. I understand they scanned the crowd for weapons and the Iraqi journalist was known by the people in attendance. They said the same thing about Jack Ruby.

Bush passed it off as a messy expression of democracy. In true democracies, however, you don’t hear the protester’s screams in the next room, while the prime minister’s bone breakers assure him an extended stay in the hospital. Now, the Iraqi journalist/shoe-tosser is a folk hero in the Arab world, and even much of the Western world, for one reason: He is the only outraged civilian Bush has had to face in eight years. There are millions of angry people in the world who would literally die for proximity to Bush, and the true miracle of the Secret Service’s protection is that the only harm done to the president in his entire term was by a pretzel.

For eight years, Bush audiences have been carefully screened and included supporters, big-money donors, and the military. If he’d faced a cross-section of the public, he couldn’t have gotten a word out over the shouts and boos. His bubble is so thick he hasn’t so much as been heckled in public, and yet he continues to portray himself as merely a victim of circumstance. All those bad things — war, rendition, wiretapping, corruption, economic collapses, hurricanes, 9/11 — just happened to take place while Bush was busy doing the nation’s business. Only that one lonely protester in New Orleans who shouted, “Go fuck yourself, Mister Cheney,” got through to this gang. Cheney is so contemptuous of the public and the law, he’s admitted approving “harsh interrogation techniques,” including waterboarding, against detainees. In effect, Cheney is saying to the next Justice Department, “Bring ’em on.” Thus far, Cheney has been accountable to no one, so let the investigations begin, the subpoenas fly, and the chips fall.

This group still believes that in 10 years, if Iraq is self-governing, that they will be vindicated by history. Kissinger thought that too about the carpet bombing of North Vietnam. In the end, it’s the casualties that can never be forgiven, and to date, there are 4,209 U.S. soldiers confirmed dead and another 30,000 wounded. JustForeignPolicy.org estimates 1,284,105 dead Iraqi civilians. (Other estimates run from 100,000 to 2 million. The figure is not officially recorded.) An additional 2.5 million people have been displaced. In that light, “a kiss goodbye from the Iraqi people” in the form of a flying shoe is a fairly mild protest for a “dirty dog.” It’s just a good thing that when someone yells “lame duck,” Bush takes it literally.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant

This is going to be a great depression. Not with a

capital “G” like the ’30s, because the tech economy is real and this

depression will be blogged. I heard a TV economist say in regard to the recession that

“it will be longer and deeper than initially imagined.” That’s what I told my wife on our wedding night, and I was lying, too.

There is too much entrepreneurial spirit out there for the American economy to stay stagnant for long. Once we chase the money changers from the temple, perhaps free enterprise will be a bit freer for all, without the old fix in place. Watching the Obama administration come together has been exhilarating — partly for the pleasure of watching a president who knows what he’s talking about and can string more than two coherent sentences together. The economy is kicking the crap out of me, but I have confidence that conditions will improve. It’s like when you have a terrible cold and you smoke a joint. You still have the cold, only you don’t care as much. I have no health insurance, but Sasha and Melia are adorable.

But can’t we speed this thing up? If you’ve been following the final days of Chuckles, you’re aware that our lame-duck president would strip-mine Jellystone Park if he could get away with it. He’s attempting to turn as much public land as possible over to his oil buddies and trying to see how many animal species he can bring to the brink of extinction. Tennessee used to have a governor named Ray Blanton who was as crooked as a spring twig. It was discovered that in his lame-duck days, he was selling pardons. The citizens of the Volunteer State ended up having to jerk his ass out of there and swear in the new governor several weeks early to end the crime spree. Al Capone finally went down for income tax evasion. Can’t we arrest Bush for loitering?

Even the massive bailout of the economy doesn’t overly concern me, except I’d like to know where this barrel of money is that they’re doing the bailing from. To paraphrase the late Senator Everett Dirkson: “Twenty billion here, twenty billion there, and pretty soon you’re talking about real money.” The Big Three automakers are deserving of scorn for their 30 years of mismanagement, but they already possess the technology to start making solid vehicles. It’s the oil and gas lobby that has kept the internal combustion engine king. There is a 2006 documentary that you need to see, now on DVD, called Who Killed the Electric Car? Emission-free, silent, and powerful electric vehicles already exist. We only need to replace gas stations with battery-charging stations. Here’s a thought: Give the automakers a loan, but put Arnold Schwarzenegger in charge of fiscal discipline.

This dire economy and grim retail season have shown us one thing: If consumers want the price to drop on a certain commodity, all they have to do is stop buying it. All that was required to make the price of oil drop like the Times Square New Year’s ball was for the public to stop driving so much. Oil prices dropped so precipitously, they had to put Ahmadinejad in the hospital for nervous exhaustion. We are a one-car family now. I purchased a Honda scooter that gets 85 mpg. Same principle applies for electronics, computers, and televisions. Stop buying that shit for a while and see what happens. Customer service might even return.

The Obama team has shown great skill already in warding off what potentially could have been a run on the banks. And in foreign affairs, those male-enhancement tablets Hillary has been taking finally paid off. Now she’s got the biggest balls in the cabinet and a job to match. Her selection as secretary of state was inspired, as was the pick of Bill Richardson at Commerce. And you can’t help but admire Robert Gates for his patriotic service in staying as secretary of defense while we wind down Rumsfeld’s and Cheney’s dirty business in Iraq.

Despite the debris field remaining from the Bush era, the cleanup feels well under way. It almost seems like prosperity’s just around the corner, every man’s a king, there’s a chicken in every pot — and some pot for every chicken. I plan to endure the remaining economic chaos with my chin up and my eyes open. If I should falter, tell my family that I fell with my face to the enemy.

Categories
Opinion Viewpoint

It’s Going to be a Long, Hard Blog

This is going to be a great depression. Not with a capital “G” like the 30s, because the tech economy is real and this depression will be blogged. I heard a TV economist say in regard to the recession that “it will be longer and deeper than initially imagined.” That’s what I told my wife on our wedding night, and I was lying, too.

There is too much entrepreneurial spirit out there for the American economy to stay stagnant for long. Once we chase the money changers from the temple, perhaps free enterprise will be a bit freer for all, without the old fix in place. Watching the Obama administration come together has been exhilarating — partly for the pleasure of watching a president who knows what he’s talking about and can string more than two coherent sentences together.

The economy is kicking the crap out of me, but I have confidence that conditions will improve. It’s like when you have a terrible cold and you smoke a joint. You still have the cold, only you don’t care as much. I have no health insurance, but Sasha and Melia are adorable.

But can’t we speed this thing up? If you’ve been following the final days of Chuckles, you’re aware that our lame-duck president would strip-mine Jellystone Park if he could get away with it. He’s attempting to turn as much public land as possible over to his oil buddies and trying to see how many animal species he can bring to the brink of extinction.

Tennessee used to have a governor named Ray Blanton who was as crooked as a spring twig. It was discovered that in his lame-duck days, he was selling pardons. The citizens of the Volunteer State ended up having to jerk his ass out of there and swear in the new governor several weeks early to end the crime spree. Al Capone finally went down for income tax evasion. Can’t we arrest Bush for loitering?

Even the massive bailout of the economy doesn’t overly concern me, except I’d like to know where this barrel of money is that they’re doing the bailing from. To paraphrase the late Senator Everett Dirkson: “Twenty billion here, twenty billion there, and pretty soon you’re talking about real money.”

The Big Three automakers are deserving of scorn for their 30 years of mismanagement, but they already possess the technology to start making solid vehicles. It’s the oil and gas lobby that has kept the internal combustion engine king. There is a 2006 documentary that you need to see, now on DVD, called Who Killed the Electric Car? Emission-free, silent, and powerful electric vehicles already exist. We only need to replace gas stations with battery-charging stations. Here’s a thought: Give the automakers a loan, but put Arnold Schwarzenegger in charge of fiscal discipline.

This dire economy and grim retail season have shown us one thing: If consumers want the price to drop on a certain commodity, all they have to do is stop buying it. All that was required to make the price of oil drop like the Times Square New Year’s ball was for the public to stop driving so much. Oil prices dropped so precipitously, they had to put Ahmadinejad in the hospital for nervous exhaustion.

We are a one-car family now. I purchased a Honda scooter that gets 85 mpg. Same principle applies for electronics, computers, and televisions. Stop buying that shit for a while and see what happens. Customer service might even return.

The Obama team has shown great skill already in warding off what potentially could have been a run on the banks. And in foreign affairs, those male-enhancement tablets Hillary has been taking finally paid off. Now she’s got the biggest balls in the cabinet and a job to match. Her selection as secretary of state was inspired, as was the pick of Bill Richardson at Commerce. And you can’t help but admire Robert Gates for his patriotic service in staying as secretary of defense while we wind down Rumsfeld’s and Cheney’s dirty business in Iraq.

Despite the debris field remaining from the Bush era, the cleanup feels well under way. It almost seems like prosperity’s just around the corner, every man’s a king, there’s a chicken in every pot — and some pot for every chicken. I plan to endure the remaining economic chaos with my chin up and my eyes open. If I should falter, tell my family that I fell with my face to the enemy.

–Randy Haspel

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant

White House staffers have been revealing a “genuine sadness” around the West Wing these days. One report said that President Bush was concerned that his presidency is being compared to Herbert Hoover’s. But that would be an insult to Hoover.

His morale was reportedly so low, he practically gushed when honored by the Air and Space Museum that everything was “fabulous,” from the brave troops to his fabulous Dad. Sarah Palin went out of her way in a Miami speech to thank Bush for keeping the nation safe from another air attack of hijacked domestic carriers, while our currency sank like the Lusitania. An anonymous assistant explained that Bush is so distraught because his administration had planned to spend his last few months in office doing “legacy stuff,” but the sudden economic collapse prevented them from accomplishing much. Let me clue the Bush folks in: The economic collapse is his legacy.

While all crashes down around him, Bush still persists in believing that a deregulated free market is the soundest regulator of itself — a true believer until the bitter end, just like Herbert Hoover. No, Bush’s “legacy stuff” consists of criminal capitalism masked by a populist concern for small “bidness,” the war in Iraq, torture, rendition, Abu Ghraib, Gitmo, Blackwater mercenaries, illegal wire-tapping, the corruption of the Justice Department, and the No-Fly List. And who doesn’t know in their heart that it was Dick Cheney who ordered the outing of CIA agent Valerie Plame to get even with his critics and that it will only be a matter of days before the criminal Bush gives a full pardon to the patsy Scooter Libby? And now we’re treated to a battery of headlines in the conservative media about how horribly Bush has been treated by all parties in the recently concluded election.

Are we supposed to feel sympathy for Bush because his name was exceeded in toxicity only by Cheney’s? No one wanted to be seen with him, including McCain. Bush was the bubonic plague, the kiss of death, and the evil eye for any Republican who dared utter his name. All he has attempted is in tatters, especially the Constitution, so it will take the new president at least half his first term to unravel Bush’s political dingleberries. But now he’s feeling lonely because he’s no longer popular. This from a man who came to the office with no vision, only a cult of personality that carried him along like a leaf in a gutter after a rain storm. The Bush presidency was the biggest farce foisted upon a gullible populace since Milli Vanilli, and the full effects are yet to be felt by all those hapless loyalists who have lost their jobs and don’t even know it yet.

Possibly Bush’s greatest accomplishment, aside from re-starting the Cold War, is his escaping impeachment. When Speaker Nancy Pelosi announced in 2006 that “impeachment was off the table,” I remembered Tip O’Neill, who said in reference to Nixon in similar circumstances that “the best interests of the country must come first.” Nancy, you’re no Tip. And Bush’s most egregious and visible violation is that he betrayed his oath of office to protect and defend the Constitution and he knows it. That’s why he’s working double time to write immunity for himself and his cronies into law before he leaves office. Bush envisions a leisurely life, commuting between a home in Dallas and the ranch, when he’s not off on a lucrative speaking tour to “fill the old coffers.” But I envision Bush answering summons after summons without protection from a Republican president, in the way Gerald Ford protected Richard Nixon. This is a man with questions to answer, and it’s best that they be asked under oath.

George W. Bush is the Frankenstein monster created by the unholy alliance of fundamentalist Christianity and a godless corporatocracy. He was a Pied Piper, born-again evangelical, ruthless free-market capitalist who granted access to untold riches for the already rich while preaching that “government is the problem” to the social conservatives. Even now, while jobless claims are skyrocketing, retail sales are plummeting, and the GOP coalition has been shattered, a Pew Poll found that 60 percent of people who identified themselves as Republicans believe the party should go in a more conservative direction. Nixon’s 1968 “Southern strategy” has come to its fruition, the GOP has become the party of the Old South.

Mine is not the only family who has decided to cut back this Christmas. Instead of lavishing presents on everyone, we’re going to draw names and buy one nice present each. Other families are teetering on the verge of bankruptcy or foreclosure this holiday season, with nothing to hope for but a new administration. So when Bill O’Reilly revs up his annual “War on Christmas,” he need look no further than the White House to see the Grinch.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant

Did I dream it or did what I see really just happen?

The citizens of the United States not only elected the first

African-American president, but Barack Obama’s race seemed only a peripheral issue

at best. This nation just decided to return to excellence and voted for the most capable candidate. The old smear-and-

fear politics did not work this time, young voters came out in record numbers, people withstood multiple-hour waits to cast their votes, and there was jubilation in the streets of major cities in this country and all over the world. I must be dreaming.

We had the political equivalent of a Super Bowl party at my house. My friend Dave the Dog drove in from Nashville, as he did in 1992 for the Clinton election; Larry took his customary spot; Melody put out hors d’oeuvres; and I held my breath until 10. Even when Pennsylvania went to Obama, I had seen too many voodoo elections to get comfortable. When the West was declared blue, we jumped up and down and yelled and cried.

The spectacle in Chicago’s Grant Park was breathtaking. The symbolism of Obama’s historic run kept grabbing me: He began his campaign in Illinois on the courthouse steps where Lincoln stood, and he ended it in Manassas, Virginia, where the documents ending the Civil War were signed. Then he held his victory celebration in the very spot where young anti-war demonstrators were beaten and maced at the Democratic convention 40 years ago. The tears of the greying eminence, Jesse Jackson, spoke more eloquently to the moment than any words. Every citizen, regardless of party, should take a measure of pride in this fulfillment of America’s promise.

John McCain ended his quest on an honorable note, with a more than gracious concession speech, which I’m certain reminded more people than me of the genuine man he used to be — before he handed his campaign over to the former Bush/Rove operatives, just to let them screw up one last thing before they leave town.

In half the McCain rallies I saw, I thought he was doing a Walter Brennan, “Grandpappy Amos” impression. “Hehhh?” Dirty tricks backfired on Elizabeth “Sugar Lips” Dole as well, and MSNBC reported that for the first time since 1952 a Bush or a Dole will not be on Capitol Hill. Just a little icing.

To see Obama win North Carolina, Indiana, and especially Virginia, where Robert E. Lee is still worshipped and revered, was simply astounding. I believe this election gave birth to a new electorate, one that picked the right man for these perilous times.

Even in my little blue corner of this solid red state, people have seemed nicer the last couple of days. I detect a general feeling of “things will be better now.” But now the real work begins. Bush/McCain voters will find that Democrats are more gracious in victory than the Republicans could ever imagine, so there will no purges (save, I hope, for Israel’s favorite senator, Joe Lieberman, who has it coming) or “revolutions” like the GOP Congress attempted in 1994. I only ask of Republicans the same civility and neutrality that I tried to adopt when George Bush was first elected — before he lied this nation into the invasion and occupation of Iraq. Before the Limbaughs of this world attempt to dismember Obama, I hope the new president will be given the chance to implement his programs without the same whiplash resistance we have seen in the past.

My initial election-night joy was sobered by Obama’s magnificent speech citing the magnitude of the problems we face as a nation. The emotion that best describes his entire ordeal for me is relief. Obama referenced both Dr. Martin Luther King and Sam Cooke but broadened the context. I’m happy to be alive to witness the ascension of an African American to this nations’ highest office, but I was so uncertain that it could really happen that I continued to see the dark cloud behind the silver lining. When the moment actually arrived, I thought of a lot of people who would have loved to see this day. Now, I feel as if I’m undergoing whatever is the male equivalent of postpartum depression. We did this improbable thing, so now what? I trust this good man and his advisers to chart a new course for the nation, but I don’t trust a recalcitrant congressional minority whose purpose is to thwart and block the new president’s agenda.

Obama’s victory must also be seen in the light of the 46 percent of the public who voted for McCain. They had their reasons, but in light of the brutal recriminations directed at Sarah Palin from the McCain camp, I believe we dodged a bullet. And it is troubling that otherwise rational people would even consider placing the government in the control of this cartoonish and inept person. Almost half the country bought her bullshit.

It was proven in this week’s Newsweek that Palin is definitely not smarter than a fifth-grader and was ignorant about even the most commonplace facts of geography. Worse, she took an arrogant pride in her ignorance and “Wasilla Main Street values.” If the right-wing evangelicals want to make her into the future of the GOP, I say, “bring ’em on.” Meanwhile, we have a very capable man about to assume the office of president, who was put there by the most committed group of voters I have ever seen. So, I say, “God bless us, every one” — and please diligently protect the Obamas.

Randy Haspel writes the blog bornagainhippies.com, where this first appeared.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant

In Florida, awhile back, Senator John McCain said, “I’m sorry to tell you, my friends, but there will be other wars.”

Who’s supposed to fight in these wars? Not our current military, which is stretched to the limit. Not me or my generation; we’re still busy fighting over the Vietnam War and the domestic cultural shifts that arose because of that bloody conflict. We’ve been doing that for 40 years now, partly because of the disrespect directed toward the soldiers who were sacrificed by the “Greatest Generation” for dubious causes and because of the fight over what determines “patriotism” when you find your country is engaged in an immoral conflict. American participation in Vietnam ended in 1973 but not before 58,000 men, average age 19, perished.

The terrible costs of Vietnam were never resolved at home. We decided it was better not to talk about such unpleasantness and went on a decade-long disco and cocaine bender instead.

I swore that when I grew older, I would never say, “When I was your age …” to a young person. But I will anyway. When I was your age, we were at war. A despised president put us there. Then an attractive candidate emerged who was adored by the young. He was a champion of the destitute and the downtrodden. Bobby Kennedy promised to end the war and bring our soldiers home in order to concentrate on the growing domestic unrest exploding in every major city. The similarities between 1968 and 2008 are striking, with two exceptions: 1) The draft was feeding my peers who weren’t able to take refuge in college into a meat grinder; 2) the voting age was 21. Despite being only 20, I had been drafted and was emotionally invested in Kennedy’s candidacy. You can imagine how crushed we were when he was murdered in Los Angeles.

Deeply dispirited, my generation chose to withdraw from politics, ensuring the election of Richard Nixon, five more years of war, and 20,000 more dead American soldiers.

There are a lot of “what ifs” in this life. Young people voting in large numbers then could have literally saved lives. My generation, which once believed we were going to transform the world, blew it — big-time. Nixon’s bag of “dirty tricks” soon turned people cynical about their government, and “wedge politics” were used for the first time — and they worked. We have been divided ever since. You can help change that now, if you remember two things: Assume nothing — this race is far from over — and do not discount the importance of your actions. Go to the polls as if your single vote were going to determine the outcome and bring a friend with you.

You’ve seen the best and the worst of my generation. We gave you Bill Clinton, a brilliant policy thinker and communicator who couldn’t keep his pecker in his pants. Then we gave you George W. Bush, a moral absolutist and former drunk who took this country to war because his Nixon-worshipping neocon staff convinced him that it was the Lord’s will. To paraphrase JFK, it’s time to pass the damn torch already. We have lived too long with prejudices that the young have never had to experience, and it clouds our thinking. Can you imagine that I never sat in a classroom with a non-white person until college? We desperately need to alter our nation’s course, but I wonder if the young are aware of the potential political clout that they possess. Being too young to vote in 1968 — when my ass was personally on the line — changed me. I am one of the laziest men walking (it took me 28 years to complete my bachelor’s degree), but I have never missed voting in a single election since. Now, it’s your future that’s at stake.

It’s this simple: If young people come out in numbers and vote, Obama will win. If they don’t, he won’t. And history is not on your side. Young people might have saved us from a second Bush term, but registering on campus is not the same as going to the voting booth. In every election since Nixon, young voters have disappointed those candidates who depended on them. Just ask Al Gore. If you don’t know where your polling place is, you can call or Google your local Election Commission. Don’t wear your campaign gear or some zealot will make you turn your T-shirt inside out. And bring an ID and prepare to do battle with those who would challenge your rights. You have the power to decide this election, and if we do it right this time, you also have the ability to recapture a lot of forgotten dreams. If I could, I would come and beg each of you individually — please vote.

Randy Haspel writes a blog, “Born Again Hippies,” where this column first appeared.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant

CREDIT: James Steidl | dreamstime.com

It was one of my father’s sayings about stock market

declines: “When they raid the whorehouse, they take the pretty ones

with the ugly ones.” They all look suspect to me now, but in the case of AIG

(American International Group), that’s one particularly ugly whore. Only days after receiving an $85-billion

bailout from the Fed to keep from going belly up, the company spent a half million dollars on a “retreat” for company employees at an exclusive California resort spa. Congress is insisting they pay back the half-mil, while approving another $35 billion for the company in additional aid.

Of course, it’s beyond outrageous, but it’s a revealing glimpse into the mentality of today’s corporate America. Talk about a group of people who have become dependant on government largess — and they’re all wearing suits and carrying Blackberries.

My sincerest sympathy goes to those who have been crack-backed by the decade of gains that have just been wiped out. I feel your pain. I retired from the field of play after the tech-stock bust of 2000 and am still licking my wounds. That’s when I finally realized that the market — the Dow, NASDAQ, futures, commodities, you name it — was an insider’s game. If you’re someone like me, the only way to make money is if you’re lucky enough to bet with the insiders. It’s like casinos: The odds favor the house. And just like the casinos, market institutions are always coming up with new ways to bet. Only instead of blackjack, keno, and craps, they call them financial instruments, derivatives, puts, and calls.

I come from a family of investors. When I was a little boy, my parents had to explain to me why my grandfather had given me 50 shares of Nabisco for my birthday instead of a toy truck. Afterwards, when my mother took me to the grocery store, I would insist she buy Vanilla Wafers, just to support the company.

My grandfather, who came to this country with nothing, would buy a stock and hold it for a quarter-century before he sold. He taught my father the same principles: Buy shares in a solid company with a future and hold on to them forever. That sort of conservative wisdom helped put me through college, but the Internet age changed everything.

Part of the insiders’ game is that they don’t teach you about the stock market in school. You have to learn it from other insiders. I learned from my father about the intricacies of the game. I entrusted my investments to him because he was better than any broker; he was smarter than most, did better research, and he actually cared. He kept books of moving averages that he would track using his own methods. When a stock broker would show him his new car, my father would say, “I want to see your clients’ new cars.” He would explain he was such a conservative investor because, “My father got wiped out in the stock market crash of 1929.” It was the same for 70 or so years. Then he got an online account.

My father persuaded me that my intuitive judgment was as good as anyone’s and, if I did the proper research, I could make money in the market. When I pulled the trigger on my first online trade, it was as big a rush as drawing a straight flush. It was like having a loose slot machine in the house. I was way up for a while and began imagining myself as having some latent ability to think a step ahead of the herd, but then the herd trampled me. I’ll spare you the gory details, but I was left bewildered and feeling guilty that I had failed because I was too impulsive or my research was flawed. I had read books by everyone from Lee Ioccoca to Melvin Van Peebles. I looked at as many as five separate sources for expert opinion before making a trade but made the mistake of falling in love with the “pretty ones” and holding on to them too long. I took my lumps and bailed out, no wiser but certainly sadder. I didn’t even get a free buffet out of the deal.

Imagine my surprise when I found out that my online brokerages, first Donaldson, Lufkin, and Jenrette, and then Harris Direct, were under investigation for their sales practices. It seems that some of the “experts” giving presumably impartial advice had financial interests in many of the stocks they were supposed to be reviewing. Both companies promptly went under and class-action lawsuits were filed, but because of lack of a paper trail and institutional candor, I could never prove that the shares I purchased were tainted by someone else’s personal interest. It helped my pride to know I wasn’t a total fool, just a sucker and a mark. But it hurt my pocketbook just the same.

In the end, they even got to my father. Dad, who had maintained the same investment philosophy his entire life, was lured into a group of clients who were given exclusive access to IPOs (Initial Public Offerings), which created so many instant millionaires in the ’90s. He soon found out that part of his ass was missing. Dad was smarter than me; he had other assets. My financial plan is now probably much like yours: Vote for Obama and pray.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant

I believe this election is still close, because a great number of the voting populace have confused John McCain with
John McClane of the Die Hard movies. We certainly need a “yippie ki-yay” kind of guy right about now, but I think Bruce Willis is in a House of Blues somewhere blowing harp. So we’re left with surly tough-guy John McCain applying for the lead role in the next disaster classic, Soft Money Dies Hard.

He’s going to “clean up Wall Street” and “reform the old-boy network in Washington.” He’s going to “follow Bin Laden to the gates of Hell,” because, as McCain/McClane says, “I know how to win wars.” Like that one against the villain who blew up an office building. Now that he’s cast Sarah Palin as his wisecracking, gun-toting sidekick, we have either a blockbuster or a sit-com waiting to happen.

There’s nothing like a total economic collapse to refocus one’s attention. That great ship, the no-holds-barred U.S.S. Free Market, has hit the iceberg, and there aren’t enough life rafts to go around. And then, the deregulating, anti-government greed-heads who have placed us all in this rudderless boat have the gall to come before Congress and ask for $700 billion to pass out bail buckets to Wall Street, but only if no questions are asked, and we must act immediately.

Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson, the one doing the asking, is the former CEO of Goldman Sachs and has surrounded himself with GS execs to assist him in the current crisis, even while Goldman Sachs is one of the firms in danger of collapse. I don’t see any brokers jumping off the ledges yet, so shouldn’t we all just stop and take a deep breath?

I’m the first to admit I don’t know Freddie Mac from Bernie Mac, except for the fact they both recently died, so I appreciate McCain’s honesty in admitting that economic matters aren’t his strong suit. But to suggest a “9/11 style commission” to study the problem when you’ve been told the economy is teetering on the verge of the Great Depression Part II is the equivalent of sitting in a classroom reading My Pet Goat when the country is under attack. Now, McCain is eviscerating the very culture he helped to create in his “maverick” days as “the great deregulator.”

The problem is Ronald Reagan patented that fake cowboy stuff 30 years ago, and what Bush the Elder once called “voodoo economics” has now come to fruition. Things finally “trickled down” alright — all over you and me. And I don’t want Phil Gramm, the architect of removing federal regulation of financial institutions, to be Secretary of the Treasury after the “ownership society” has just become the “borrower society.”

The implosion of the McCain campaign is further evidenced by the Disneyesque, manufactured Sarah Palin bubble that is about to burst. After being secluded like a college student cramming for finals and being tutored in politics by former Bush operatives, the Palin camp made a serious blunder in trying to manage the media on her meet-and-greet at the United Nations. Attempting to ban reporters from the room, while allowing photographers to capture the friendly smiles, is an old Soviet-style propaganda stunt. Someone should remind the governor that in the lower 48, we still maintain that quaint “freedom of the press” thing, and sooner, rather than later, she will have to subject herself to the same scrutiny every other candidate must face.

In 1984, Democratic vice presidential nominee Geraldine Ferraro’s glow fell victim to her husband’s sleazy business associates. Should the “First Dude” receive a similar examination of his secessionist views since his wife wants to hold office in this country?

How anyone could support a candidate who’s entire political career has been a trajectory leading to the current crisis is beyond me. McCain’s answer to provocation is force; his answer to fiscal crisis is committee. I don’t know about you, but I am not a Georgian today, and I will not send my stepson into another politician’s misguided war. Our country is being drained, financially and militarily, by the expenses of occupying a sovereign nation and our collapsing financial institutions. But John McCain “can’t wait to introduce Sarah Palin to Washington.”

It’s too late for introductions, but I’d like to get in my request: I am an entertainer who serves a societal purpose, and I made some bad investments several years ago that have affected my ability to perform happily. I would like the government to bail me out and reimburse my losses. But that might be a job for John McClane.

–Randy Haspel

Randy Haspel’s band is Randy and the Radiants. This column first appeared on his blog, bornagainhippies.blogspot.com.

Categories
Opinion Viewpoint

Idol Fancies

Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon,

Going to the candidates’ debate.

Laugh about it, shout about it.

When you’ve got to choose,

Every way you look at it you lose.

— “Mrs. Robinson” by Paul Simon

These traveling roadshows called debates have increasingly taken on the air of a TV reality program. I watched one Republican debate, but after seeing a majority of the candidates admit, en masse, that they questioned the validity of evolution, I didn’t need to watch another.

The Republican debates are equivalent to the summer replacement show America’s Got Talent. (The Democrats shade toward American Idol.) The contestants are carefully scrutinized as to appearance and confidence levels, and expectations run high each week over who will stumble and who will rise to the challenge. They even have judges posing as questioners. They critique the candidates’ answers and attempt to build rivalries within the group. The role of the intemperate asshole judge is played by CNN’s Wolf Blitzer (alternately, Chris Matthews). The flaw in the concept is that we can’t phone in each week and get somebody booted in order to thin this herd and maybe hear something of substance.

I took an online poll in which you were asked to match your opinions with the candidate who most closely holds your views. Mine came out Dennis Kucinich, which is good and bad.

I admire the congressman’s courage to call for impeachment openly and often. (He nearly got a vote to the floor last week.) I agree with him on ending the war in Iraq and holding the planners accountable. And he has been the single most consistent liberal voice in all these dark Bush years.

But I also know Kucinich hasn’t got a chance to win the nomination. I’ll happily vote for him in the Tennessee presidential primary to make a statement. Hell, I once voted for Prince Mongo for county mayor. I also voted for LaToya London on American Idol.

But once again, machine politics and corporate cash rule over procedure, and even though Kucinich’s rousing debate performances rival the American Idol appearances of Bo Bice, he’s going to lose to the blond lady who was mistreated when she was younger.

Before Hillary gets measured for crown and scepter, however, it would be well to remember that not a single vote has yet been cast and that the American voter is a famously fickle animal who will turn on you in an instant. How else can you explain Taylor Hicks winning American Idol, or George Bush winning anything, for that matter?

I’m sure Kucinich is at least as deserving as fellow ugly duckling Clay Aiken was. But if I had to review Hillary’s debate performances thus far, I would say, à la Randy Jackson, “It was just aw’ite for me, Dog. You’re a little pitchy.”

While this lite operetta continues, President Zero is neglecting some serious issues: The Chinese are trying to date-rape our children; Wal-Mart has been discovered taking out life insurance policies on its aged workers and collecting benefits when they die; Laci Peterson has morphed into Stacy Peterson; a discovered statement left behind by the still-deceased Saddam Hussein said his flim-flammery about WMD was not to threaten the U.S. but to fool Iran.

Barack Obama has promised to take off the gloves this week. And did I fail to mention our troops are in the middle of a foreign civil war with no end in sight? Too bad we can’t just vote the troops off the island.

Al Gore may have won his Oscar and his Nobel Prize, but Carrie Underwood and Daughtry kicked major butt at the AMA’s, and Fantasia was up for an award, too. With the current television writers’ strike, the mid-January start of the new season of American Idol might have to be moved up, just like those nervy upstart states want to do with their Johnny-come-lately primaries.

Then we could have five nights of nothing but American Idol and debates. But if the debates are going to compete, they have to really want it, Dog. This is, after all, a singing competition. And there is one lonely voice singing in the corner, crying, “Impeach now. Impeach now.” Can you hear him? It’s Dennis “The Dark Horse” Kucinich, and his spouse is better looking than Hillary’s any day.

Hey, no one believed Ruben Studdard could win either. Seacrest out.

Randy Haspel is, among other things, a Memphis musician and wit. He writes at bornagainhippies.blogspot.com.