As I sit here, The Supreme Court of these United States is attempting to decide if lying about ones military service and awards is a violation of federal law or constitutionally protected free speech.
The fact that this question has made it to our highest court of law should serve as just one more bit of proof that my basic philosophy regarding America is as true today as it has ever been.
America we are FUCKED.
Now this an ABC News interview with a real Medal of Honor recipient. Note the humility, the belief that the award is for all serving Americans, the people he has served with. Be proud of this young man. He has displayed honor and bravery above and beyond the call of duty.
Now this gentleman is the other side of the coin. This “gentleman” is Xavier Alvarez, a minor politician from California.
Mr Alvarez is quoted by ABC News as having said;
“I’m a retired Marine for 25 years. I was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.”
Too bad that the son of a bitch has never served a day in uniform.
Congress, showing a moment of brief clarity passed The Stolen Valor Act in 2006, which, when boiled down states that if you fib about military decorations it is a misdemeanor punishable by 6 months in the slam, unless of course you are really trying to get laid and tell her you won the CMH. That little slip up earns you a year.
Well, Mr Alvarez apparently sucked at the telling of tall tales, some of his biggies included claims that he had played hockey for the Detroit Red Wings, marrying a Mexican beauty queen and rescuing a US diplomat from Tehran during the hostage crisis.
See what I mean.
Anyway, he got caught, plead guilty, then challenged the law as a violation of his free speech.
Those putzs on the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals agreed with this SOB and held that The Stolen Valor Act is unconstitutional as it does not distinguish the type of speech, such as slander or libel. The court believed that this would start us down a slippery slope that would lead to such common lies as “The check is in the mail” or “I promise I will not show those nude photos of you I took with my cell phone to the guys at work” (OK, bad example, but you get the idea) becoming unlawful.
The 10th circuit court has since upheld the law, which has led us to today.
I would hope that The Supreme Court would uphold a law intended to insure that the valor of our men and women in uniform and to to see that anyone trying to usurp their achievements for their own personal gain.
The law does not cover little white lies, “Sea Stories” (if it did, I would be buying up some soap on a rope for my stay at the grey bar hotel) or shit guys say trying to get laid, and if such a law were to come to pass, I promise you I would be among the first to speak out against it.
All we can do at this point is hope and pray that the Justices feel the same.
No, what is confusing me is what does Mr Alvarez hope to gain with all this legal maneuvering?
To clear his tarnished name? He already plead guilty to the charges, saying is essence, yes, I lied about being a Marine Corp hero, or for that matter, being a Marine.
Is he hoping maybe it can help clean up his resume?
As luck would have it, The Angry Jew recently was able to obtain a transcript of a recent job interview that Mr Alvarez participated in.
“Why exactly did you leave your last position, Mr Alvarez”
“UH…I kind of got caught in a little white lie”
“So Mr Alvarez, it says here that you were a Marine Corp Hero”
“Uhh, not exactly, I might have made that up to get a job on a Water Board”
“I see”
“But I challenged the law protecting the real heroes and had it abolished”
“Hmmm…OK”
“So you see, when the law is struck down, I will have done nothing wrong, so you would have to give me a job”
“And so I shall, here is your bucket, your spray bottle and squeegee. Welcome to The Scrubba Dubba Car Wash family.”
In reality, I am sure that if the law is upheld, Mr Alvarez will probably receive community as he would technically be a celebrity.
Might I suggest at the Marine Corp Recruit Depot in San Diego.
Maybe something to do with Bayonet Practice.
I am sure he would be grateful to be able to spend some quality time with his “brother” Marines
I have got to get this off my chest before I explode.
America, I Love You, but what the FUCK are you doing?
Our nation is facing a crisis that makes September 11 look like a day in a kiddie sandbox and all you can do is obsess about the latest Harry Potter movie.
What the hell is wrong with you people?
I don’t know if this rant is fueled more by blind outrage or the three 12 hour shifts I just pulled at work, and, to be frank, I don’t care.
You people have done this to yourselves and you deserve whatever comes after America’s credit rating stops looking like that of a nation founded on integrity and begins to look more like, well, mine.
You confuse charisma with leadership and ideals with the ability to pander to the masses.
You elected, I say you because I did not vote because I didn’t like either of the choices, on a promise of change, and while I am sure he took the job with the best of intentions, intentions don’t cut it with the Washington power elite. With those sharks there are only two choices. You can either buck the system and get ground down like the eraser on a pencil on April 13th or you can go with the flow and help bleed what is left of our nation dry.
I, because I like to do silly little things like,oh read the news, do a little investigating on my own, ask questions, you know all those dull boring things that get in the way of rooting for my favorite celeb on Dancing With The Stars, was not given a choice.
McCain and Palin?
The fact that Palin is still considered politically viable by the Tea Baggers is just further proof of my theory that the only thing that will save this once great nation of ours is to immediately eliminate all warning labels on products and then sit back for ten years while Mr Darwin does his work.
2012 is going to be no better. Who are you offering me to go against Obama? Bachman?
OK, I know that by their very nature conservative Republicans are intellectually stunted, but do you really expect America to swallow that two faced cunts bold ass lies.
Well, now that I think about it, of course you do, barring the chlorine working its way through the gene pool.
Bachman is a woman of the people, of the land, a farmer, until it comes out that she accepted farm subsidies that are meant for, well, REAL FUCKING FARMERS. Then it was her Daddy’s farm, and she was just managing it with her hubby, Mr Pray The Gay Away.
This is the couple you expect me to put in MY White House?
Are you fucking HIGH?
Our potential First husband in a religious wacko closet queen, Oh don’t tell me he isn’t, anyone that anti gay has got have more then a few pairs of red velvet pumps sitting next to the skeletons in his closet.
It’s 2011 people, time to wake up and let go of the homophobia. You want to know what homosexuality leads to? It leads to tastefully decorated homes, gourmet meals and good parenting. This Christian Conservative version of reality where homosexuality is responsible for everything from the fall of The Dallas Cowboys to the diddling of little boys does not wash.
You people need to get your facts straight, pun intended.
Let us not forget it was The Catholic fucking Church that turned pedophilia into a wholesale business. I have a better chance of floating of to The Rapture come October then these fucks.
Ahhhh
I feel better.
Of course, America is still going to melt down come August 2nd.
That is until, just before the stroke of midnight, Obama will announce a compromise that will raise the debt ceiling just enough to let Halburton and Rupert Murdock fist fuck us for just a little longer.
Now I dont want this, my first post in many months, to be a complete downer, so I am enclosing a clip of Americas greatest news man, telling it like it is.
Hello friends, I am back once again to save Americas sorry asses.
I, your humble servant, have, in a stroke of sheer genius, or, maybe I was just having a stroke, solved once and for all, Americas Debt crisis.
Thank you, Thank you, No really, please, stop, your embarrassing me.
OK, here goes.
Now there are those who say Washington is out of touch with the average American. They are right.
And you know why?
Because they do not have enough interaction with you and I, the unwashed masses. It is time to change that. We are going to kill two birds with one stone.
Are you getting excited yet? Are you feeling this?
So here is how we are going to pay off the national debt and put our leaders back in touch with the people.
We are going to hold a series of lotteries!
I know, I know, sure its been done.
Why not hold a telethon, for Christs sake, you waste all this time on a the build up and then that’s the best you can give us…Get Bent Jew Boy
Now wait just a second, you haven’t heard the best part. Here is what we do.
For $10 you buy a chance to spend the weekend at The White House.
That’s right.
You will spend three days, two nights in The Peoples House, with full, unfettered access to the President and the first family. Round trip transportation provided by The United States Air Force, all meals included, your own Secret Service detail, all the perks.
Chew the fat with The Commander In Chief over breakfast, work a bit in the White House vegetable garden, sit in on the planning of the invasion of an oil producing nation, all this and more.
Now, having just one prize is not going to pay off our trillions of dollars of debt, so, for $5 you can buy a chance to spend the weekend with a member of Congress and for $2 a chance to bunk down at the home of a Cabinet Secretary.
Got a beef with the ATF?
Buy a shot to spend the weekend with The Secretary of Treasury.
Concerned about Air Traffic Controllers falling asleep at the switch?
Take a chance to pull an all nighter with The Secretary of Transportation.
Need to hear all the juicy international gossip that even Wikileaks was afraid to publish?
Pony up $2 to listen in on The Secretary of State.
I am telling you people, this will work.
Now I am sure our elected officials will be solidly behind this idea. It’s revenue neutral. All of our elected officials agree to give up one pork barrel trip home for the weekend every six months to cover the cost of a constituent coming to them. The infrastructure is in place, most states already have lotteries, and for those who don’t, tickets can be sold in post offices and Federal Buildings. Hell, we can even hire a private company to run the thing for us, just like we do with our wars.
Just to sweeten the pot a bit, we could even create a reality show around the winners. Fuck Dancing With The Stars….How about “The Peoples Weekend”? OK, so it’s just a working title, come up with something better if you don’t like it. The advertising revenues over production costs would go to the national debt.
I am telling you folks, it is either this or we are going to end up with that crap Paul Ryan is spouting. I am telling you, you are not going to like that shit one little bit.
With my plan, everybody wins.
GE can continue to not pay taxes on Billions in profits, the wealthy can keep their tax cuts, the winners not only get the kind of access to our government that was once only available to high paid lobbyists but get to be real live media whores as well and our elected officials get to keep all their perks because we are going to have a one in a billion shot at living like they do for a couple of days.
This rant is dedicated to my friend Scott in Japan and to all of our men and women, and their families, currently stationed in or assisting with relief efforts…you are the best of us.
I realize I am part of the problem, but enough is enough.
I am, like most of you, a news junkie in times of crisis. I heard about the Japanese earthquake just an hour or so after it happened, and I was instantly flipping between CNN and MSNBC while surfing the news services trying to catch every detail.
I have been horrified by the devastation and having grown up in earthquake country, I know all to well the sounds and smells that accompany the horrific images that have been coming from the disaster zone. I know the feeling of helplessness that comes with each trembler that comes after a major quake.
I also think it is important for the American public to be informed. While I do not think we here are going to suffer any direct consequences from the disaster, (I have to admit that I laughed at the disaster declarations in California and here in my home state of Oregon following the arrival of the tsunami to our shores, given the devastation caused in Japan.) that is, other then increased prices for Japanese products. Check out the spot price today for microchips, and believe me, it is only the beginning. I can see a nationwide shortage of Hello Kitty gear in our future.
But, as much as I believe in our right to be informed, when I see that every network affiliate here in Portland, which is not even what is considered a major media market, has sent a team of reporters to cover the disaster, I have to ask myself, is our addiction to information causing more harm the good?
Let us say there are twelve major markets in the US. Each market has 4 affiliates, FOX, ABC, CBS and NBC. So that is 48 stations. Each station sends a reporter. Now of course, the reporters are not going alone, they have to take a camera man, sound man and probably a field producer. So we have sent 192 people. Each of those people are going to eat, and I am deliberately trying to be conservative here, two meals a day. That is 384 meals. Let us say each of those meals would feed two or perhaps three survivors. Lets say two. That is food taken out of the mouths 768 people who need it.
Now I am purposely not including all the NAME anchors that all the Networks and News Agencies are sending over to lead there efforts to provide the most comprehensive coverage possible, and, since we are the world leader, every nation on earth is going to be following our example. I would not be surprised if the Dubai Daily News has not sent two or three people into the disaster zone, and each of those people is consuming resources that should be spared for the survivors.
If the world’s media wants to impress me, let me see a shot of reporters giving up their North Face Extreme Weather clothing to a survivor or of them emptying out the coolers from the back of their vehicles or to drain the fuel from those vehicles and give it to a survivor searching the country side for their relatives. At this point, those are the stories I want to hear.
When I see Anderson Cooper poking through the muck, assisting in the location of bodies or spending the day consoling children who have lost their families, then I will believe that the medias presence is justified.
Our media has enough to do right here at home.
I want to see KOIN News send some reporters over to local grocery stores to do a piece on the panic buying of Sodium Iodine and Kelp by idiots who think this will somehow protect them from radiation that might make it all the way across the pacific and here to Portland.
Just to answer a few readers who I know will argue my closing statement allow me to amplify. The odds of any radioactive material from even a complete melt down in Japan reaching the West Coast are MINIMAL, that is to say that events may conspire to prove me wrong.
The distances involved make it impossible for particles large enough to create a serious health risk to stay aloft long enough to reach us. At the very worst, and my information is based on statements made by independent scientists as opposed to Bill Nye, The Science Guy, who CNN used the other day to explain to the American Public how a nuclear reactor works, God Help Us, we can expect to see a small increase in background radiation levels.
Yes, while iodine taken PRIOR to exposure to radioactive iodine will prevent it from being absorbed into the thyroid gland, it will not have ANY effect on any other radioactive materials, such as cesium, plutonium or uranium. If you inhale a particle of plutonium you are dead no matter how much kelp you eat.
Maybe it’s the fact that i am just coming of a week long depressive episode and I am getting decent sleep for the first time in days or that I am just getting a bit cranky, but I had to take issue with a story in todays Oregonian.
Actually, it was the way two unrelated stories came together.
And no, I am not talking about TriMets decision to allow miniature horses to ride on buses and light rail as service animals, although….
Anyway.
On page two there was a story regarding Presidents Obama’s remarks at a gala celebration commemorating the 50th anniversary of John F Kennedy’s inauguration.
Apparently our current democrat was inspired by Kennedy’s “Ask Not” Speech. You know, the one that goes…
I always found it pretty inspiring myself.
It is a shame that our elected representatives do not feel the same way.
On page 1 came a story that is essence says there is no way the current administration, and in my opinion, any future administration, is going to be able to reform that jumbled mess of rules, regulations and exceptions that is known as our current tax code.
“We’re examining whether we can find the political support for a comprehensive tax reform,” Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner said at a recent economic forum.
The tax code is 3.8 million words long and growing. In the past decade, there have been 4,428 changes — an average of more than one a day, according to a recent report by Nina E. Olson, the National Taxpayer Advocate, an independent watchdog within the Internal Revenue Service.
Now I am not going to go into a long winded explanation of how a flat tax would benefit our nation by widening the tax base, or how by increasing taxes on Capitol Gains and on the top 5% of our wealthiest citizens we might be able to spread out the burden.
I could probably score a point or two by telling you all that as an unmarried male with no children who uses minimal government services, I pay more in taxes then some of the largest companies operating in my home state.
Here are the figures straight from Oregon.Gov
Minimum tax
S corporations carrying on or doing business in Oregon are subject to $150 minimum tax. ORS 317.090
C corporations carrying on or doing business in Oregon are subject to minimum tax based on Oregon sales shown here:
Less than $500,000, minimum tax is $150.
$500,000 or more, but less than $1 million, minimum tax is $500.
$1 million or more, but less than $2 million, minimum tax is $1,000.
$2 million or more, but less than $3 million, minimum tax is $1,500.
$3 million or more, but less than $5 million, minimum tax is $2,000.
$5 million or more, but less than $7 million, minimum tax is $4,000.
$7 million or more, but less than $10 million, minimum tax is $7,500.
$10 million or more, but less than $25 million, minimum tax is $15,000.
$25 million or more, but less than $50 million, minimum tax is $30,000.
$50 million or more, but less than $75 million, minimum tax is $50,000.
$75 million or more, but less than $100 million, minimum tax is $75,000.
For what I paid in state taxes last year I could have been a corporation earning between one and two million dollars…not bad for a guy who cleared 40 grand, huh?
The bottom line Mr. Geithner is a simple one and one that you will never hear spoken aloud in Washington, at least where the media or your average citizen can hear it.
Simply stated, no one in Washington is going to take the tax burden off my back and place it on the backs of the corporations and special interest groups that put them in office.
You know it and we know it.
I am afraid that Nina Olson’s quote that closed the article just does not hold water.
“The dirty little secret is that the largest special interests are us — the vast majority of U.S. taxpayers,” Olson said. “Virtually all of us benefit from certain exclusions from income, deductions from income, or tax credits.”
The only people you would hear whining if the tax base were widened and EVERYONE was made accountable for correcting the fiscal mismanagement that this country has engaged in for the last 50 years, would be the corporations and wealthy individuals who have profited from it.
Maybe it is time that someone in Government should spend some time asking themselves President Kennedy’s question and see, what if anything, America can do for US!
About three times a week, I am treated to a letter in The Oregonian Op/Ed section about how everyone needs to quit whining about the new invasive pat down searches.
Apparently, at least according to these folks, the fine folks at The TSA are looking out for us and keeping us safe and if we don’t like it, don’t fly.
OK, I will concede that point.
If…Someone…Somewhere…can explain to me just how in the hell someone got a checked bag full of pistol primers onto a flight bound for Jamaica.
How where they detected, you ask?
A high tech sniffer machine?
Nope.
One of those chemical test strips that they rub around inside your bag?
Nope.
A keen nosed sniffer dog?
Sorry.
They were detected when they exploded and damn near set a baggage handler on fire.
Whoops.
If you need the details you can check out the story on CNN here.
Im sorry, but if you guys cant find a couple of hundred highly explosive primers packed into some ones checked luggage, what exactly are you accomplishing by groping my junk and peeking under my clothes
I mean other then giving the flying public a false sense of security and spending my tax dollars on high tech, multi-million dollar machines that apparently cant do the job they were designed to do.
Well as long as things like this keep happening to me I might as well write about them.
Sunday morning started out as just another day off. After waking early with my lady love and sending her off on her way to work, I decided to get my grocery shopping done early and avoid the crowds at my “bag your own” discount grocery.
Groceries in hand, I then set off to pick up a carton of smokes at the local “Stop and Rob”.
It was here that I had a most interesting encounter.
I had grabbed an Energy Drink from the cooler and headed to the counter when I encountered a young man in his early twenties.
He looked at me as i rounded the corner. He was deep in conversation with the young woman behind the register. He gave me an appraising glance and asked me a question.
“OK” he said ” You tell me. You roll out of bed at work and you are counting down your till and your very first customer of the day, some queer, winks at you. Wouldnt that just ruin the rest of your day?”
Huh?
I must have that kind of look, one that says, Why yes, please look a me to confirm your homophobic rantings.
I blurted out the first thought that came to my mind.
“You sleep at work?”
“No, I live right across the street, so I just wake up and come right over to work.”
OK, one mystery solved.
“and you say your first customer of the day was a homosexual who winked at you?”
“Yea, he was totally flirting with me. Isn’t that just wrong? I mean, how would you take that.”
His look said that he was sure that I would agree with him and justify his revulsion.
Sorry to disappoint you my young friend.
“Honestly, I would be flattered.”
His eyes went wide, like an anime character that had just been goosed by a giant tentacle.
(Anyone who got that reference can instantly go to the perv corner.)
“Listen dude, did he reach over the counter and try to grab your junk?”
“Uh…no”
“Did he offer you a trip to heaven in the back room?”
“No man…he just winked at me”
So whats the problem, I asked. Dude thought you were a “hottie” and showed his appreciation. That’s it.
Why get all freaked out about it. If it had been me, well, lets face it, I am not getting any younger, so, if someone wants to show me their appreciation for my physical form, I will take the compliment and smile for the rest of the day, regardless of their gender or sexual identity.
I could see my new found friend processing this new point of view.
I found this encounter particularly prophetic as it came on the day after a historic vote in the senate which will allow homosexuals to openly serve in our Armed Forces.
I know that there are those both inside and outside the military who are pulling out their hair and rending their garments at the thought of the destruction of our modern fighting forces.
I am sure they are relatives of the same cracker assholes who thought the end had come when the armed forces were integrated in the 1940s or when the combat arms were opened to women in the 80’s.
As we stand poised on the beginning of the 2nd decade of the 21st century, I would hope that we had evolved past petty prejudice that marked these two events in history, but sadly, I am sure it will not. There will be the usual small but vocal minority who will cry that this is the end, some will retire, some will quit, and, sadder still, there will be incidents of violence and intolerance.
In other words, history will repeat itself.
And as it has in the past, tolerance and common sense will win out as these members serve with honor and distinction. Another corner will be turned, and just maybe, we will learn a lesson or two.
As for my young friend, well, after chewing on my new and radical idea for a few moments, a smile crossed his lips.
This post is dedicated to Nick and the gang at Straight To The Point Piercing in Downtown Portland. If you need any kind of Body Jewelry, stop on by and tell them The Angry Jew sent you. I love you guys for inspiring me to write.
Fuck Christmas.
Yes, I said it.
I am tired of building up my hopes that this season can bring out the better nature in us, if for only a few greed driven days.
Allow me to explain.
Mona and I have been pretty busy these last few weeks. Working odd hours and different schedules will put anyone at edge, but throw in the holidays and you have a disaster waiting to happen. The last few weeks have been especially odd for me, work has been unusually busy for this time of year and there have been some odd twists and turns that, while they may not endanger my employment, they have made my position somewhat tenuous.
With all that, we have found it hard to get into the spirit of the season.
Having been mostly on my own these last few years, I have found little need to celebrate the season, but Mona enjoys the holiday and while I wanted to enjoy it with her, I just could not find the spirit in my heart.
Our tree, OK, her tree, my sole contribution being putting a small gash in my head while trying to wrestle said evergreen into it’s stand, had just gone up the other day and I still had not done any shopping for anyone.
I thought maybe getting out and about last night might rekindle the spirit of Christmas, so Mona and I bundled up against the 30 something degree temperatures and ventured out to find some Christmas cheer, Portland style, last night
We grabbed The MAX Train from our home on Portland’s west side to The Oregon Zoo to partake of a yearly event Called Zoo Lights. The zoo is opened in the evening and decorated with a display of colored lights numbering in the millions. It is all very festive and attracts both locals and tourists to wander about our electric winter wonderland.
We became “single serving friends” (I really must meet the author of Fight Club, Portlander Chuck Palahniuk, and thank him for coming up with that line, it really describes the way I like to meet and engage random strangers) with a nice couple about our age. We shared political views and anecdotes about our fair city over the course of our twenty minute ride east.
Arriving at The Zoo, we found ourselves surrounded by families and children all eager to get inside. You could see the excitement and wonder on the faces of the little ones and they hopped about on what was surely a candy cane induced sugar rush.
I felt it as soon as we walked through the gate…the small spark of holiday cheer that lived in my heart was being fanned into an ember and then a flame by the happy faces of children, their cheeks pink with the cold.
Or maybe it was the feeling of several near misses and one direct hit on my junk by little arms flailing around uncontrollably in their fits of sugar induced hyperactivity.
Yet I persevered. Mona was having a grand old time taking pictures and I was determined to enjoy the evening, even if it meant enduring the headache growing behind my eyes from listening to the high pitched howling of the little monsters demanding every little trinket that was available and the repeated attempts of the parents of these demon spawn attempt to control them by shouting their names repeatedly at ever increasing decibel levels.
Still and all, I managed a genuine smile for my lady love and we had a grand time making fun of those who had decided it was a good thing to produce multiple offspring as they made futile attempts to have them behave at a level above the chimps and gibbons.
It had got to be around eight so we decided to press on into Downtown. We almost gave up after a twenty minute wait for a train, both of our hungry spots were grumbling pretty loud by now, and we had just said to hell with it when an east bound train arrived.
Our next stop was Pioneer Square, Portland’s living room, to view the giant Christmas tree that was the focus of an FBI induced terrorist bombing plot a few weeks back and watched a department store Santa attempt to score some weed from the throng of leather and stud clad white punks.
How does that poem go…”with visions of crack pipes dancing in their heads”.
We threaded our way through the gauntlet of begging teens asking for money and cigarettes as we enjoyed the large displays of Christmas lights that our bankrupt city has put on in lieu of hiring teachers and funding music programs.
My spirits continued to lift as we passed the food carts on 3rd Avenue that were under attack by City Councilman Randy Leonard for having the audacity to install overhead cover for their patrons in the city of a hundred rainy nights, without paying their pound of flesh to the city coffers so that Sam Adams, our teen smooching mayor, can take another trip abroad to not attend any of the meetings he went there for in the first place.
By the time we passed the Silverado, one of Portland’s Gay Strip Clubs, it was almost anti-climactic to watch a middle aged, very gay man wearing a dirty Santa cap having a verbal bitch slap fight with his twenty something lover.
On arriving at our destination, Captain Arkenys Well, for Pizza and Irish Coffee, my faith in the season was restored and it was with the joyous tidings of the season that I gave a buck to the bum on the corner out in front of the restaurant for “something to eat”.
And you know, I might have hung onto the feelings for a little longer then 5 minutes if the son of a bitch had chosen ANOTHER bar to go drink my money down in.
Nope…he had to plop down on a stool right across from our table to enjoy his Christmas Spirits.
