Shame On You!

Another month, and another opportunity to bring to light yet more stupid and inane behaviors that consistently defy common sense. It’s getting so bad, I’m finding it harder and harder to “narrow” the field.

So this month I will devote the entire piece to one winner. This nominee has had some, shall we say, interesting and colorful moments during his lifetime, but his actions of late have taken the proverbial cake, as it were. Hence he has earned this month's spotlight all by himself.

On a personal note, this will be the last time this piece appears in this blog. Starting this month I have started a new blog aptly called “The Conscience of a Progressive.” A takeoff on Paul Krugman’s blog on The New York Times website titled “The Conscience of a Liberal” I decided that the word liberal for me was too vague for my liking and invites the usual stereotypical, knee-jerk responses from opponents. There is nothing vague about being a progressive, and it’s time I realized who and what I am and stop trying to wax poetically around it.

This blog was supposed to be about hypocrisy within the Church, and while I have made a concerted effort to keep it on track, I must also admit that at times it more closely resembled a political blog. And while I have nothing to apologize for regarding my stances, the two lines were beginning to blur way too much for my tastes. In the spirit of keeping it simple, it was time to reassess what the original goals were for this blog and return to them.

The envelope please…


John McCain: Whatever political capital and self respect this self-described maverick once had has long since gone the way of the dinosaur. It is hard to imagine that once upon a time this man was taken seriously as a presidential candidate and that voters on both sides of the political aisle viewed him with respect. He was his own man, beholden to no one. A Republican, yes, but he had the courage to stand up to the base of his own party and challenge its conventional wisdom.

He called out the likes of Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson and properly referred to them as intolerant and called then candidate George Bush’s proposal for a massive tax cut for the rich something he could not “ in good conscious support.” He was a moderate Republican at a time when the Party was moving farther and farther away from the center and towards a much more militant base; a base which now completely owns and controls it.

During the 2000 Republican primaries, it looked as though McCain might actually eke out a win against Bush and give the nation a chance to vote for the first moderate Republican since Eisenhower. And then South Carolina happened. The vicious rumor that McCain had fathered an illegitimate black child – posed as a question to avoid the appearance of a direct attack by the Bush campaign – ostensibly did in the Arizona senator. He never recovered. Bush went on to secure the nomination and eventually was elected President. The nation was this close to having a legitimate choice and electing a leader who wasn’t afraid to admit that the gap between rich and poor was widening and needed to be dealt with.

In the ensuing years McCain did distinguish himself by authoring various by-partisan legislation, and with the exception of his continued and ardent support for the Iraq War, he remained in the eyes of many America’s best hope for a presidential candidate that could transcend political polarization.

And then 2008 came. McCain had run a successful primary campaign against the likes of Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee, not by moving to extreme base of his party, but by once more steering towards the middle. The strategy proved successful. Despite attacks from Rush Limbaugh and Mary Matalin, McCain beat the odds and went on to win the Republican nomination.

And then, in what can only be described as a Titanic moment, McCain chose to run one of the most negative campaigns against Democratic nominee Barack Obama. McCain didn’t just move to the right, he threw himself at his base in a desperate attempt to garner their support. In the desperation move of the century he chose as his running mate Alaskan governor Sarah Palin, a move that gained him the long awaited support from ultra conservatives, but which cost him the bulk of his support from the center, once considered his strength.

In the final six weeks of the campaign, McCain became more desperate as poll after poll showed his support eroding. The attacks were stepped up, but to no avail. McCain and Palin were routed in the general election.

In the year and a half since that humiliating defeat, McCain has continued his slide into a caricature of himself. The “maverick” had become Palin’s side kick. So damaged was his reputation both among independents and conservatives that the Tea Party movement nominated its own candidate to challenge him for his senate seat in the Arizona primary.

And now the man who stood not once but twice on the precipice of becoming President of the United States has outdone himself by declaring earlier this month that Times Square Bomber Faisal Shahzad – an American citizen – should be denied his Miranda rights. You heard right. Old blood and guts, in yet another desperate attempt to curry favor with conservatives in his home state, has sold himself out.

What next? An appearance with a fake sheriff along the Mexican border imploring the government to “complete the danged fence?” Oh, he did that too!

What happened John? Where did your soul go? I know politics is one of the two oldest professions in the world; the other has to do with selling your body for money. And I know it can’t be easy being a Republican these days and holding onto your principles. But you weren’t just any Republican and you didn’t just run for any office in the land. OK, so you saddled us with the mouth that keeps roaring in the person of Sarah Palin. That would be bad enough for one lifetime, but the depths you have sunk to over the last year has completely destroyed any hope of salvaging what was once a brilliant and distinguished career in the Senate.

Regardless of what happens in your state’s primary, you need to know this. What you have traded for is not worth the price you paid for it. Whether you win or lose, you have lost all respect from those who once believed in you, who saw in you a transformative figure who could be relied on to speak his mind and lead with conviction and dignity. Now the only thing any of us can rely on from you are the comic relief bits you bring to life on Letterman and Saturday Night Live.

Shame on you, sir. You knew better.

What If? … No, What When?

The morning was like any other. I woke, went down to the local deli to get my usual egg sandwich and took my dog for his morning walk. I had a few chores to do that day, and one of them involved going down to the Apple Store at Roosevelt Field to register my AppleCare pack for my iTouch.

I got to the mall just before 1:00 and spoke with one of the sales reps at the store. After several attempts to register the product on his computer, he finally printed out a document with my product’s serial number along with a fax number and said I would have to fax it along with a copy of my receipt of purchase.

I was a bit frustrated at having to drive all the way down there only to be told that I would have to go back home and register it manually. I walked around the mall’s food court. Since it was lunch time I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone and grab a bite. Problem was despite a plethora of choices I wasn’t all that hungry. I finally left the mall and headed toward my car, which was parked about 50 or so yards from the south entrance right by Macy’s.

No sooner had I gotten into the car and put my key into the ignition than I felt an incredible pressure hit me right in the solar plexus that immediately took the wind out of me. The windows of my car exploded and a sound that I can only describe as reminiscent of a subway train pulling into a station only a hundred times louder popped both my eardrums. It was like being thrown into the middle of a war zone with no warning.

I threw open my door and hit the ground petrified. I shouted out, “What the f***!” I looked up and saw an immense cloud of smoke and fire coming from the direction of the mall. Debris was raining down all around me and there was nowhere to hide. I thought about crawling back inside my car but there was glass all over the seats.

I instinctively ran away as fast as I could along with a throng of people, some with burned and torn clothing, all screaming, or at least that’s what it looked liked. In the explosion I lost my hearing and couldn’t hear their screams.

I had run as fast and as far as I could, all the way to Stewart Avenue, before turning around. What I saw stunned me. The whole of Roosevelt Field was engulfed in a massive wall of flame. It poured out of the structure as though it were a tanker set ablaze. As my hearing began to return gradually I could hear the shrills of the people around me who were hysterical, but I could also hear from what must’ve been a half mile or so, the screams of the souls who must’ve been still inside, and I could also hear the flames that were engulfing the whole of the mall.

I was in a state of shock, but I was also quite cognizant of the fact that what I was witnessing was the worst calamity to befall the country since 9/11. I had no idea who might have done this or why, but I knew the horrific nature precluded the possibility of an accident. This was deliberate. We were under attack, again!

All I could think of was reaching my wife Maria to see if she was OK. I reached for my phone, but in the blast it had been ripped from my belt cover and was gone. I also noticed I was bleeding around my ears and arms. I was covered in the dust from the debris that rained down all over the parking lot.

I was scared and disoriented. I could hear the emergency vehicles as they arrived on the scene. I began wandering aimlessly along Stewart Avenue wondering how I was going to get home. I couldn’t believe what my eyes and ears were telling me. I had seen the images of the terrorist attacks that September morning, and saw the throng of people rushing over the Brooklyn Bridge but, while they were gut wrenching, not until that afternoon did I know the horror of what those people went through. You don’t know if you’re going to live or die, and every sense in your body is hyper sensitive. It’s as though you’re existing out of time. I was on pure adrenaline.

Eventually, after a time, I made it to the Meadowbrook Parkway. All northbound traffic had been diverted at Zeckendorf Blvd. Glen Cove might as well have been in China for all the good it did me. All roads around the mall were either closed or were diverting traffic away from where I needed to go. I walked – it was more a stagger – eastward and northward toward Best Buy on Old Country Road. Everyone I passed was staring at the wall of flame and smoke coming from Roosevelt Field. Eventually someone noticed me and saw that I was obviously in need of medical treatment. He put me in his car and drove me to the hospital.

I kept muttering for him to take me home, but he insisted I needed to get medical help. Once at the hospital I was admitted to the emergency room. I managed to get one of the nurses to give me her cell phone and I called Maria. She was hysterical but was relived that I was alive. She drove down as fast as she could to be with me, and stayed at my side while my wounds were treated. While in the emergency room I couldn’t help but think how fortuitous it was that I did not stop to eat lunch that afternoon. I would’ve been right in the middle of the mall when the explosive went off and more than likely I would’ve been killed.

After being treated for minor cuts, I was released and Maria drove me home. When we got home we both hugged one another and cried our eyes out, grateful to God that I was alive and well. Many people that day weren’t nearly as fortunate and many of them met their maker.

Over the next few days we learned that more than 1,500 people were killed, and another 500 or so suffered third degree burns. The explosive was placed in the basement directly under the food court and went off at 1:15 P.M. The blast blew a crater more than 200 feet in diameter and 100 feet deep, completely demolishing the main section; the ensuing inferno consumed most of the mall. Many around the epicenter were either immediately killed or were burned to death within seconds after the blast. The Taliban took credit for the attack, the second worst in U.S. history. Our worst fears were realized; what we were praying wouldn’t happen finally came to pass. America once more was hit and once more the face of terrorism reared its ugly head and claimed more innocent lives.

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Now obviously, none of this happened. Yet. Though I did in fact visit the mall to register my itouch, and I did indeed leave before eating lunch, all the events that appeared above were the figment of my morbid imagination. But don’t think for a moment that this scenario cannot become a reality.

Just Saturday someone drove a Nissan Pathfinder right into the heart of the theater district of Manhattan loaded with explosives in an obvious terrorist attack attempt. The attempt failed and, as we speak, the driver is being hunted. Though we don’t at present know who is responsible, the Taliban have taken credit for the attempt. And while the nation may have dodged a bullet this time, experts agree it is only a matter of time before a successful attack is carried out. No matter what precautions we take as a nation, eventually those who hate us will get through our defenses. A bomb will go off and people will be killed.

The neocons and the vast right-wing ideologues have had a field day over the last 24 hours ripping the Administration and liberal Democrats for being weak on the War on Terror and for making America vulnerable to attack. We were lucky. What about next time? Once more we are being subjected to the same cheap rhetoric that we had to endure after the last attack. In the months after 9/11 the nation, lost in the grip of xenophobic fear, succumbed to the bassist of its prejudices and sold out its very laws and values in a vain attempt to feel more secure. An illegal war was fraudulently launched, thousands of civilians were killed, and hundreds of suspects were unjustly rounded up and detained in a clear violation of both our Constitution and international law. Fake patriotism ruled the day as the mainstream media reneged on its responsibility as the guardians of truth.

One can only surmise what will happen the next time we are attacked. And there will be a next time. The only question that begs to be answered is not what, when, where, or how the attack will be launched, but rather what our response as a nation will be. Evil will always exist and seek to bring about paralyzing fear. That is the essence of terror itself. The Terrorists know that. They know they cannot kill all of us; their only hope is to bring us to our knees and force us to compromise the very thing that separates us from, and at the same time threatens, them: our way of life.

We cannot give them their victory. Death is inevitable; but fear of death is an option, one that we cannot afford. Throughout our illustrious history we have met many external challenges from formidable opponents and we have defeated every single one of them. But the greatest challenge now lies not from without but from within. If we are up to that challenge, the terrorists can never win.