The Flaming Moderate
 

 
I practice moderation passionately.

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Clinton lied, Hillary cried.
Bush lied, people died.

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Thursday, December 19, 2002
 
Thanx for making the point, Dave

From The National Review's David Kopel

1. Lott praised Jefferson Davis.

Well, Davis's birthday, May 2, is still an official state holiday in Mississippi. One should not condemn an elected official for praising people who are formally recognized as heroes by the state.

The same goes for Hawaiian politicians who praise Prince Jonah Kuhio Kalanianaole (March 26), even though Kalanianoale, like Davis, led a 19th-century rebellion against the United States (in 1895). Unlike Davis, Kalanianole was actually convicted of treason (technically, "misprision of treason"). Later Kalanianaole founded the Civic Club of Honolulu, a politically powerful association which excluded blacks and others on the basis of race. (emphasis added)

Similarly, we should not condemn Texas politicians who praise Lyndon Baines Johnson (August 27), even though Johnson wiretapped Martin Luther King, massively enriched himself through corruption, and lied constantly to the American people.


While The New Republic's &c does a more than adequate case of bitch-slapping this fact-challenged twit, they don't happen to follow up very well on Prince Jonah Kuhio Kalanianaole, a person with whose history I became familiar during a couple of years of residence in Hawaii.

To excerpt from The Political Graveyard site:

Kalanianaole, Jonah Kuhio (1871-1922) of Honolulu, Island of Oahu, Honolulu County, Hawaii. Born in Koloa, Island of Kauai, Kauai County, Hawaii, March 26, 1871. Republican. Delegate to U.S. Congress from Hawaii Territory, 1903; delegate to Republican National Convention from Hawaii Territory, 1904, 1908, 1912, 1916, 1920. Died January 7, 1922. Interment at Royal Mausoleum, Honolulu, Island of Oahu, Hawaii. See also: congressional biography.


So yes, the Prince was convicted of misprison of treason and he did form a racially (and sexually) dicriminatory men's club. And he did so as a REPUBLICAN. And after his conviction and after he formed that club, he spent 20 years in Congress AS A REPUBLICAN.

Dave, Mr. Robinson has ONE word for you. One word: Research. Believe me, it's the next big thing.

The Flaming Moderate's Reflections

Wednesday, December 18, 2002
 
Jeez, not only can't we catch either bin-Ladin OR Omar, we can't even keep the Al Queda camps out of Afghanistan.

Al Queda back in Afghanistan

The Flaming Moderate's Flames
 
No, not a lott like Christmas

With the blogger research into the backgrounds of those being mentioned as new Republican Senate Majority Leader, (Nickles et al vs McConnell, Frist et al), it's beginning to look a lot like a battle between the bigots and the whores. Perhaps the Republican Senators will be able to compromise. I'm sure there's a bigoted whore somewhere in their ranks.

The Flaming Moderate's Reflections

Tuesday, December 17, 2002
 
A Thousand Dollar Dog


I was living on a quarter acre of caliche in East-side San Antone when the pin oak the previous owner planted over the sewer put its roots through the pipe. Sewage backing up into your bathtub is a lousy way to start a Wednesday; almost as bad as a lump of coal in Pogo’s jelly doughnut. So I hunted up a sewer firm that made house calls, waited until the diggers showed up, and moved out smartly. After all, sewage happens.

When I came back at noon to check on the progress, one of the workmen asked, “Is that your dog?” and pointed toward my garage door. There lay the dirtiest, nastiest, mangiest looking mutt I’d ever seen. And I’m a country boy, so I’ve seen some ugly dogs. “Hell, no”, say I and I chased the animal out into the street and up the block, looked into the ditch like I had a clue what they were doing and went back to work.

Now it’s quitting time, I’m turning into the driveway, and there that damn dog is again. I get out of the car and again chase it away. Thursday morning and evening, there the dog is to be chased away again and again. This is one dumb dog. Somebody’s just not getting the hint.

It’s Friday morning and Karen and I are getting ready to go to work. “Wait, Honey, there’s something I got to talk to you about. There’s this damn dog that keeps coming up into our driveway. I keep chasing it away and it keeps coming back. I know we haven’t talked about getting a dog, but I can only be so cruel and two days is about my limit. If that dog keeps coming back, we may just have to take it.” “Well, if it does come back, then we’ll deal with that.” And she opens the door to leave. There, on the welcome mat, is the dog.

Well, obviously, we’re done for. We give the dog a bowl of water and after it drinks a bit, I get a blanket and wrap it up, because it’s FILTHY! I let the folks at work know I’ll be running late and set off for a nearby veterinarian’s office. I show up with this canine dirt-lump in a blanket, convince the receptionist to schedule the dog for an immediate physical and appointment with the co-located groomer, and leave for work.

Friday afternoon and I’m back to pick up the dog, which has cleaned up pretty good. She’s a beautiful middle-aged Cocker Spaniel, something impossible to guess just hours ago. The vet tells me that she is probably a throwaway, of which San Antonio has over a quarter-million a year.

Karen thinks the dog is beautiful and is delighted. She grew up around Labs and I around mutts (Great American breed), so the only question is what to name the dog. I hold out for “Damn Dog” and argue that the dog should be used to me calling her that by now. But we finally compromise on Missy.

Apparently, a family that moved from around the corner threw her away, as she kept trying to go up to the now empty house whenever we walked around the block. But she is now our dog - or we are her people, whichever comes first. Apparently, somebody got the hint.

She turned out to be a world-wise middle-aged lady of the streets who knew what she wanted. And what she wanted turned out to be me. Whenever Karen and I would express any affection toward one another, she would bark. She wouldn’t bark at strangers, she wouldn’t bark at doorbells, she wouldn’t bark on command. But let me hold Karen’s hand or share a kiss, and Missy went off like a machine gun, barking so rapidly and loudly that we thought she was going to tip over backwards. And forget about sitting together on the couch without a fur divider. Yes, if ever there was a jealous bitch, this was it.

Other than that, she was an agreeable person, always willing to do the absolute nothing required to “Guard the house, girl” when we went out.

Missy shared our lives in San Antonio and, when we were transferred to Atlanta, rode next to me in the pickup for the whole trip.

Oh, she grew a big bottom from having a ready meal, but she was always up for a walk. And even though there came a time when she had to “helped” a little to become a fur divider or to get to a place on the bed, she always let you know that, if she could have helped, she would have. And, of course, she was always ready to “guard the house, girl.”

In time, even your best friends get old. We took her to the vet on a regular basis, for she had the problems that you can expect to visit a lady who’d had to live a hard life on the streets, especially one who had gone through a bad carbon monoxide episode with us in San Antonio. At last, she needed major medical work. We found the money and put her in the hospital for two weeks for the surgery and recuperation. But the surgeon told us that, at best, it was a delaying action. There were other medical expenses after that and I told Karen one day that I never thought a mutt man like me would ever own a thousand dollar dog. But since my friend had appeared on my old website as “Missy the Wander Dog, goD to dyslexics everywhere”, she was obviously worth every penny.

One morning, I found her in the bathroom, where she had gone to find a cool place. She’s buried now under an oak tree near our house. Karen put a little picket fence around the grave and keeps flowers growing there. I guess if we ever sell the house, we’ll have to explain that little grave – and the little plaque I nailed to the tree, the one that reads, “Missy, our friend. She guards this house.”

The Flaming Moderate's Reflections

Friday, December 13, 2002
 
On the issue of the Confederate flag

Of course I can understand the desire of some people to remember the heritage of the Confederate States of America through the display of the Confederate flag. As a native Mississipian and current Georgian, I never want to forget that the heritage left by my ancestors included the commission of treason against the United States. And that they committed that treason not by questioning the motives of devious lying politicans or by protesting against Republican class murder or by standing up for the right, but by actually taking up arms and killing to protect the privilege of some men to enslave other men. I don't want to forget that other ancestors and men I knew as classmates denied life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness to their fellow humans or defamed the name of God by invoking His blessings on their lynching and lying. No, I don't want to forget any of that. And if it takes flying the Confederate flag to remind me, then put that sucker up on every tree branch. Better it should be hanging there than the strange and bitter fruit it represents.

The Flaming Moderate's Reflections
 
On the issue

You know we're in a bad way when justice for molested children may depend on whether we have an extradition treaty with the Vatican.

The Flaming Moderate's Reflections

Thursday, December 12, 2002
 
On the Southern Strategy

If Republicans are going to enjoy the fruits of that poisonous tree, they shouldn't complain about the lot of racist crap used to fertilize it.

The Flaming Moderate's Reflections
 
The Flaming Moderate's pop quiz.

President Bush today announced two actions.

1. He will cut federal funds for winter heat assistance to the poorest people in America.
2. He will permit faith-based groups to use federal funds to practice religious discrimination.

For 10 points, which of these actions was compassionate and which action was conservative?

For 5 points extra credit, would a faith-based group include Wiccans?

Tuesday, December 10, 2002
 
Redneck Whiplash: A neck condition found in spineless politicians, usually caused by rapid head rotation during attempts to salute two flags, one of which represents treason to the other. Once common to a particular strain of Democrat, the affliction has now permanently settled among Republicans in Georgia, South Carolina, Mississippi, Alabama, and Virginia. Not to be confused with other afflictions of the politically spineless.

The Flaming Moderate's Political Dictionary

Sunday, December 08, 2002
 
NRA Membership List: A list of the gun producers, resellers, enthusiasts, and owners in America who support the Federal Government's Office of Total Information Awaress' right to have full details about what they own and where they live. This is what you guys signed those membership cards for, wasn't it?

The Flaming Moderate's Political DIctionary

Thursday, December 05, 2002
 
59 Days In Peking: A film about all the time necessary during a one year period for Henry Kissinger to accomplish his tasks as Chairman of the 9-11 Investigation Commission or any other part-time government employment. This is not due to any particular efficiency on his part, but to the fact that if he takes 60+ days, he will have to reveal the names of his Johns.

The Flaming Moderate's Political Dictionary
 
Class Warfare: The greatest fear of the corporate malefactors of great wealth who think they control the Republican Party, just as the Bayers, the Farbens, and the Krupps thought they controlled that little upstart from Bavaria . The prospect that those whom they have betrayed and robbed will actually recognize their crimes and organize a revenge gives them cold sweats in the night. So they go to great lengths to discourage class warfare. They much prefer the class suicide so popular with their religious fundamentalists, but will indulge in class murder when necessary, if they can do it in the dark and from the back.

The Flaming Moderate's Political Dictionary

Wednesday, December 04, 2002
 
Religion: A method by which some become shepherds and some become sheep. If you choose to be sheep, don't complain if you are fleeced and your young are butchered. Why do you think the sheperd keeps sheep? For their welfare?

The Flaming Moderate's Political Dictionary
 
It can't happen here. One of four phrases describing the stages of denial that occur when a constitutional republic becomes a democratic dictatorship. The other three are It isn't happening here, It hasn't happened here, and Of course it's constitutional to hold Americans without charge or kill them without trial. What kind of anti-American terrorist supporter are you for even questioning our leader's popular Christian policy?

The Flaming Moderate's Poliitical Dictionary

Tuesday, December 03, 2002
 
Self-Made Man: A trait of politicans, generally claimed by persons who evidence knowledge of neither architecture nor carpentry. (c.f., PMPQ: Politician's Mythical Personal Quality).

The Flaming Moderate's Political Dictionary

 

 
   
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