Monroe Anderson

GOP did a heck of a job on Dems for Brownie

 
 

We saw what was to come a year ago when Chief Justice John G. Roberts, Jr. sworn in President Barack Hussein Obama, Jr. 

What should have been a smooth and seamless ceremony wasn't. Chief Justice Roberts got the words wrong. The new President had to go through the swearing-in later--one more time--in the Inaugural day to make sure everything was all right.

That omen to the chief from the chief would be replayed and replayed and replayed with different verses, but the same tune throughout Obama's first 365 days in office. While I seriously doubt that the swearing-in trip-up by Roberts, an activist conservative Supreme Court appointee, was designed to be an obstructionist gesture, it symbolizes what the activist, conservative Republican Party and its media movers and shakers had in store for Obama.

Since the double-dose Inaugural, day in and day out, week in and week out, month in and month out, our nation and its chief executive have been bludgeoned by one Republican road block to the next in a right-wing plot to assure that Obama's promise for change goes nowhere fast.

Right off there was the Birthers. According to them, Obama was not born in the United States therefore wasn't a legal citizen therefore was ineligible to be president. A little more than six months into office, the first African American president was still in early attempts to get the health reform legislation he promised through Congress when GOP Sen. Jim DeMint declared if Republicans and conservatives stop Obama on health care reform, it would “break him” and be Obama’s “Waterloo.”

After DeMint's declarations, the Birthers were joined by the Deathers--those that claimed that the Healthcare Reform Bill was designed to let senior citizens die--and the tea-baggers who were mad as hell as not going to take it any more because Obama was a foreign-born, socialist who was out to kill the unborn, old folks and truth, justice and the American way.

All along, the Republicans voted no while providing no variable alternative to all they were rejecting. As we come to the end of Obama's first year, the Republicans have helped to assure that 177 of the White House's nominees have not been appointed--that's 107 more than the 70 Bush nominees that were still waiting after his first year in office and one heck of a way to make sure that Obama can't do a good job.

So when Massachusetts' Brownie became the first Republican to win a U.S. Senate seat since Edward Brooke retired in 1979, on cue the conservatives to healthcare. Following suit, many of the MSM reports failed to point out months before Scott Brown beat Democrat Martha Coakley that the majority of Americans were in favor of healthcare reform until the right-wingers nay-sayed it to its deathbed. Nor did enough MSM reports explain that Massachusetts already has a healthcare reform law in place so the voters in that state were either fearful that a national reform law may cost them more or were pretty much into a "I got mine, I could care less about yours" state of mind.

As if we didn't know, the main history we've learned in the past year is that negative works; that it's easier to tear down than to build up and that nice guys get to experience firsthand that old saw about if at first you don't succeed, then try, try, try again.

 
 

This column has been cross-posted on the Newsvine and the African American Opinion.com websites.

Movie Monsters, Barack Obama, Mother Nature and other terrifying things

 

The original The Mummy, starring Boris Karloff, was on satellite TV the other morning. My wife, Joyce, watched. I didn't.

Even when I was a young, easy-to-frighten child, The Mummy didn't scare me much. As long as I didn't let myself get cornered, The Mummy wasn't about to get me. I could outrun the dead man walking. Same thing with the Frankenstein Monster. He was way too slow and clumsy to catch me with the quick reflexes and the fast feet.

But, the Werewolf was different. He was fast, strong and vicious. Unlike the embalmed moving mannequin and the blockhead assembled from the booty of grave robbers, The Wolf Man was VERY scary--when the moon was right.

I remember my eight-year-old imagination playing havoc with me after seeing a rerun of the 1941 Wolf Man on our black-and-white TV set. During the next full moon, as I undressed for bed, I'd stare at my feet, just checking to make sure they were not sprouting wolf hair ala Lon Chaney. And I had no interest in wandering around our small, Gary, Indiana backyard when the moon was bright and round. I often would toss and turn before finally getting to sleep.

That fear, of course, was a once a month or so event. The rest of the time, I lived a fairly fright free life--unless I happened to catch a Dracula movie on the boob tube.

Talk about scary; there was no movie monster more blood curdling than the Count. He was lightening-fast. He could morph into a bat. He could vaporize into a mist and slip underneath your bedroom door. There was no evading or escaping him.

Thank God he feared the cross. I took to wearing one for weeks after seeing any of the Hollywood reincarnations of Bram Stoker's masterpiece. The Crucifix was comforting but not a panacea for the lingering terror the movie had injected into my psyche. Even now, as a card-carrying AARP member who's on the brink of senior citizenship, celluloid vampires can put me on edge. I watch True Blood for fun and for the sheer adrenaline rush.

All that's to say, when I hear the wingnuts going on about President Obama and how they fear for America, I understand. Rush Limbaugh, Glen Beck and Sarah Palin routinely contribute to the mass hysteria by summoning up imaginary monsters that make The Werewolf look like the family Labrador retriever and Dracula look like the Count Muppet on Sesame Street.

To hear the Birthers, the Deathers, the Tea-Baggers and the Republican leadership tell it, President Obama is a James Cameron creation. Or as Kyle Reese put it: "Listen, and understand. That terminator is out there. It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead."

The wingnut terrors, of course, are about as real as my youthful fears of the wolf man and the vampire.

Meanwhile, today's headlines force me to recall another low-budget movie monster: The Zombie. In these old black-and-whites, Voodoo sorcerers from Haiti summoned up the dead to wreak havoc and to reckon revenge.

The devastation and horror of the worst earthquake to hit Haiti in 200 years, and the countless number of lives lost, put fear and power in the proper perspective: There are real horrors in life; horrors that don't come with popcorn or silly little tea-bags hanging from your straw hat.

---

 

 This commentary was cross-posted on the AgoraVox and Newsvine websites.

Racist quote, Clinton's quiets Reid's

 
 

   The blogosphere is all atwitter about Sen. Harry Reid's quote about presidential candidate Barack Obama. The then-Illinois senator was described, in private, by the Nevada senator as "light skinned" and "with no Negro dialect, unless he wanted to have one." 

Cries of racism have been seen and heard throughout the far reaches of Cyberspace. And I, for one, wonder why. 

Point one: Obama, whose mother was a white Kansan and whose father was a black Kenyan, is a light-skinned African American. The last time I checked, that observation was not filed in the racist category--not even in the racially insensitive one.

Point two: There is such a thing as a Negro--I prefer black--dialect. I hear it when I talk to my family and friends back in Gary, Indiana. I hear it when I go to the West or South sides of Chicago. I hear it come out of my mouth when I'm speaking my native tongue rather than the educated one I learned to affect long ago to assure that I could succeed as a professional journalist.

Our 44th president was raised by his white grandparents and mother. He grew up hearing white dialects not black ones. He enunciates like a Harvard-educated white man--until he wants to emulate those dialects he heard while working as a community organizer and worshiping at Trinity United Church of Christ.

So calling Senate Majority Leader Reid's off-the-cuff remarks racist is a bit of a stretch. But, no matter. Reid has already said he was sorry.

"I deeply regret using such a poor choice of words. I sincerely apologize for offending any and all Americans, especially African-Americans for my improper comments," Reid said in a statement released after the excerpts were first reported on the Web site of The Atlantic.

"I was a proud and enthusiastic supporter of Barack Obama during the campaign and have worked as hard as I can to advance President Obama's legislative agenda."

And, the President has already said, apology accepted.

"Harry Reid called me today and apologized for an unfortunate comment reported today," President Obama said in a released statement. "I accepted Harry's apology without question because I've known him for years, I've seen the passionate leadership he's shown on issues of social justice and I know what's in his heart.  As far as I am concerned, the book is closed." 

This tempest in a teapot was brewed up by a leaked excerpt from the book, Game Change, which was written by Time Magazine's Mark Halperin and New York magazine's John Heilemann, to the Associated Press. 

The book is set to be published Monday and this leak and others serve enticing publicity to pump up sales.

There is another leak that should hit the Internet big time in minute now. 

Under the heading, "Teddy's Anger," Blogger Ben Smith posted this less than an hour ago:

One of the enduring mysteries of the 2008 campaign was what got Ted Kennedy so mad at Bill Clinton. The former president's entreaties, at some point, backfired, and the explanation has never quite emerged.

I've finally gotten my hands on a copy of Game Change, in which Heliemann and Halperin report:

[A]s Hillary bungled Caroline, Bill’s handling of Ted was even worse. The day after Iowa, he phoned Kennedy and pressed for an endorsement, making the case for his wife. But Bill then went on, belittling Obama in a manner that deeply offended Kennedy. Recounting the conversation later to a friend, Teddy fumed that Clinton had said, A few years ago, this guy would have been getting us coffee.

It will be a teachable moment as we see our nation's first black president apologize to our nation's other first black president.

This post has also been cross-published on the UK Progressive, Newsvine and Huffingtonpost.com websites.

Citigroup's reverse bank robbery

 
 

I read the letter three times and still didn't see them. Where were the words "Stick 'em up!?"

I suspect Citibank intentionally left them off, writing instead:

Dear Monroe Anderson III,

We are making changes to your account terms.

To continue to provide our customers with access to credit, we have had to adjust our pricing. The terms of your account will be changing. These changes include increases in the variable APR for purchases to 23.99 per and will take effect December 29, 2009.

That .01 percent that Citibank isn't charging me on my credit card is what it gives me on my interest-bearing savings account. Citibank's generosity is awe-inspiring.

My tax money--and yours--mercifully bailed out the financial corporation and its incompetent top management. Citigroup was kept from going under by our TARP funds. So Citigroup shows its gratitude by doubling my interest rates, giving an AVERAGE of $6.2 million last year to each of its failing top executives.

Nice work if you can get it.

Something doesn't add up here. Usury laws in Illinois have a nine percent limit. In Sarah Palin country, the Alaska state legislature "has established the general usury limit on personal loans at a maximum rate which is no more than five percent above the Federal Reserve interest rate on the date that the personal loan in question was made," according to Usurylaw.com. Maybe Citigroup came up with its gold standard in Soprano-land, New Jersey, where the usury limit is a back-breaking 30 percent.

I don't know. All I know is that the Credit Card Act of 2009, which kicks in next month and is supposed to protect us from loan sharking banks, seems to be a day late and a few hundreds of millions of dollars short. In anticipation of the so-called credit card protection law, Citibank raised my APR rate from 11.24 percent to the Willie Sutton-like 23.99 percent.

Fortunately, I am able to take matters into my own hands against the notorious Wall Street Gang. Since Citibank seems hell-bent on emptying my pockets, I'll going to retaliate by emptying my Citigroup bank and equity accounts. 

And while I'm at it, I'm going to cut up my Citigold card, wrap it in newspaper and mail it back to them. They made me an offer I could refuse. 

May their business soon be sleeping with the fishes.

_{This post has also been published on Newsvine.}

My New Year's resolution: I'm back to whacking wingnuts

    

    It's that time of the year again. January 2, the day I resolve to do things I haven't done or to stop doing things I do. Lately, each year has begun with the same resolutions: I'm going to exercise more, lose a few pounds, get my house in order, read and write more and watch TV less.

    Each year starts out with a bang and ends with a whimper. That's why I get to make the same old resolutions again come the next January 2. Last year, I recorded the days I exercised in a pocket calendar. My aerobic exercising and iron pumping was a regular routine until May Day. Except for a few outings on my bicycle there are a lot of blank papers in my calendar after May 1. I fell way off the wagon. Again.

    But although this day could easily be declared my annual day for future failure, I celebrate it as my great day of the big past success. 

    In 1975, exactly 35 years ago to the day, I quit smoking cigarettes. 

    It was no easy feat. I went cold turkey. I went through a nasty withdrawal. I fought off capricious cravings for years. I know that I am healthier and wealthier for my suffering. Definitely wealthier. When I quit my pack and a half to three packs a day habit, cigarettes were 55 cents a pack. You could pick up a carton for about eight bucks. A smoker today, thanks mostly to sin taxes, pays more than that for one pack. Had I kept my old bad habit, I would have been burning up between $4,380 to $8,760 a year. That's two top-shelf 55-inch flat screen plasma TVs a year. Or an annual cruise to Tahiti for two. Or three months' worth of dining out at five-star restaurants.

    That's a whole lot of dough that didn't go up in smoke...for one year. Multiple that by 35 and we're talking real money. So, whatever New Year's resolution I make today and break tomorrow, not smoking makes up for it. Still, I'd like to succeed at something else. This will be my year. Last year, I all but quit posting on my blog about halfway through. It wasn't my intention but when you've been paid to write for all of your professional life, doing it for nothing is no easy task. Beyond  
  that, the Wingnuts took their toll. The antics of the Deathers, the Birthers, the Tea-baggers, the Cheneys and their ilk left me dumbfounded and speechless.

    So on this day, I resolve to get down to my fighting weight and get back into the fray. This is my first post of the year. Many more will follow. The dumbbells are calling me out.