the daily snivel

In keeping with long-standing traditions, some friends and I periodically forsake the obligations demanded by our classes, the Clinic, and other aspects of our social lives so that we can meet weekly for some tasty pints at the Royal Oak, a pub right across the street from our law school. This year, we've set the meeting time for Thursdays at 5:00 pm, which is one of those rare times when no one has to be anywhere for at least a couple of hours, so that there is ample opportunity afforded to frolic and laugh and carouse. Most recently, I met up with my friends Aimee, Kari, Aniel, Jenn, Aisling, Eric, Mel, and Michelle, and what began as simple evening of drinks turned into an all-night hullaballoo. When our friend Aimee arrived, she was positively wiggling in her seat with excitement because she had tickets to see a show with Goldie, a UK DJ well-known for his fusion of ambient and jungle beats (as well as his abundant gold teeth and erstwhile romance with Bjork). Well, actually, I should say "well-known by people who aren't me," because I was embarrassed to admit I hadn't heard of him before. Conversely, my friend Jenn was absolutely floored by the announcement. It turned out she was a tremendous fan and was extremely distressed she hadn't heard of the show earlier. Given the excitement everyone was exuding, however, I was easily talked into checking the show out so I agreed to join them for some further drinks at a friend's house and dancing until the wee hours.

Goldie was fantastic, I confess. I wasn't keen on the warm-up DJ, who played until nearly midnight and was extremely needy in the repetitive way that too many DJs are these days ("are all you people having a great time?" "put your hands in the air!" "show me some love!" etc.) which is really a turn-off in a performance. A good DJ should just spin and work some magic on the crowd, and not interrupt the music with constant cajoling and wheedling. There's actually a great song by JET about that (referenced in the title of this post). The craziest part of the evening was the noise. I had forgotten how loud a DJ can be, and when we finally left our hearing was seriously impaired. Sounds were muffled and distant -- it was like being underwater. Next time, I'll definitely have to invest in ear plugs.

I had great fun. The drinks were expensive, but such is the way of trendy clubs in the Byward Market. Nevertheless, I stayed out and shook that booty o' mine till 3:00 am. It was at that point that my friend Jenn decided she had to go, so we left together, I cabbed Jenn back to her apartment and then walked myself home. It was important to see her safely back at her place, and after I dropped her off, I was out of money, and figured that since it was a nice night, I would simply amble onwards with a ringing in my ears and a pleasant evening running through my head. Jenn repeatedly told me that my plan made no sense, since she could simply run to a bank machine and give me some money herself, but I was stubbornly proud. Sometimes you want to buy a gal a drink without it ever being something she should pay back. And sometimes you want to spend your last dollar doing something nice for a close friend, like getting her home after a late night and a lot of fun together.

I'm not always rational in my actions, to be sure.

Accordingly, I didn't make it back to my house until 4 am, and got up early the next morning to run errands and hit the Clinic, and then the gym, before going out to another party last night. Suffice it to say, when I finally stumbled home on Friday night, I didn't wake up until about 4:00 on Saturday afternoon. 

You all know about Bush-isms, I assume, which include the malapropisms and neologisms and grammatical blunders made by the 43rd President of the United States, George W. Bush (including the greatest hits like "misunderestimated"). I came across a great compilation of the other kind of Bush-isms -- namely, the policy blunders, loss of American jobs, destabilization of American security and the chaos he has wilfully strewn across the world. These are handy for when you're about to strangle someone who swears they're going to vote for George W. Bush in November, but can't quite articulate why. Now you can re-educate them with some fantastic reasons not to vote for him.

http://democrats.senate.gov/resource_center.htm. 

I went out with my dear friend Natalie to see Sarah Harmer play at the National Arts Centre on Thursday night. I very much enjoyed the performance, but I have to admit, I was blown away by the opening act, who in my opinion actually stole the show. Sarah was touring with Josh Ritter, who writes and sings funny, sensitive, moving, and lively songs reminiscent of Hayden, Blue Rodeo, and Nick Drake. I was very disappointed when their set ended (as much as I did like the main performance), because I could have stayed and listened all the longer. I was rapt and moved and spellbound. Once the show was over, I insisted on running to the lobby to buy a copy of the Josh Ritter CD, Hello Starling, and am currenly enjoying it immensely. There is another album I need to buy, a 2002 release called Golden Age of Radio. Do give Josh Ritter a listen if you have the chance. He comes highly recommended.

Last night, my good friend Sandy had a housewarming party for his new apartment in the Byward Market. The neighbourhood is a bit dodgy (located on Murray Street and nestled near the homeless drop-in centre and the Shepherds of Good Hope, where many generally harmless and generally friendly but nevertheless colourful characters hang out), but also lively and in the middle of a great deal of nightlife. His new place has been decorated wonderfully -- I helped him move, and while the apartment had a lot of promise when he took it (plus it didn't have rats, unlike the last place), he's truly made it his own, complete with his old record player cabinet, vinyl collection, Star Wars bedsheet, a framed copy of the Magna Carta, and a bathroom wired with speakers. We had a rather nice time at his new digs, drinking Gibson martinis, Mangner's Cider (my new favourite cider, which is aged and imported from Ireland), and enjoying some great music, and then we retired to the Dominion Tavern (Ottawa's best, rock'n'roll'nest, cheapest bar) where we met a lot of other law school friends for cheap pints and quarts and some lovely conversations.

In particular, I was very glad to see a friend who had just returned from New York City for the school year, as I've been too busy and too distracted to have many words with her (even though I've missed her terribly). And, actually, I didn't get the chance to say much to her that night, either, as there were so many people to talk to and both of us were keeping our eyes on some ordinarily sweet friends who were getting too drunk and surly for their own good (one quote: "That guy over there is makign goo goo eyes at me and I don't want him to make goo goo eyes at me!"). And despite the fact that many people were slurry and sloppy and drunk and silly and variously seeking to chat up, hook up, and feel up one another, I was mostly just amused and distanced from the whole thing -- at least inasmuch as I could be removed given that I was behaving like a mother hen as I sought to keep an eye on some friends.

There was one guy there in particular who gave me an odd feeling -- call it spidey sense -- and he was very horny and putting his hands quite liberally over quite a few of my colleagues. In a way, it's silly, but I'm protective of my friends and strange, annoying, and embarassingly inebriated second-year law students should be cautious when taking such liberties with pals of mine. I remarked to a friend that I thought he was way too schmoozy for my taste, and she kind of blushed and confided to me that she and he had made out in the not-too-distant past, and that there may indeed still be something going on between them. Judging by his very grabby body language for the rest of the night, at least, that was probably the case. And of course, then my foot was in my mouth, and so I decided to just let it be. We all do silly and obnoxious things when we're drunk, and we all think we're at the height of our charm and poise while we do so, right?

We stayed out until the bar closed, and people piled into cabs and one of my friends protectively cabbed home with someone who was too drunk to make the trip herself, and I cabbed another friend home who was cold and drunk and not even wearing underwear as her pants were too small -- and, really, you just can't send someone like that out alone into the cold, cold night, because it's just so pathetic.

At one point, I was bidding a certain someone goodnight, and let her know that it was really good to have seen her, and that I was glad she came out. One of our drunken charges interjected: "What about me? Wasn't it great seeing me?" And I had to reply, that of course it was nice to see her (talking to people who are just that drunk is like talking to children, which is perhaps another reason why I don't find them attractive), but that I'd seen quite a bit of her that night as we'd been chasing her around and talking here and there, but that I'd hardly said a word to my other friend at all.

I guess I was trying to be cool and sort of aloof, and there were a lot of people there that night I was interested in talking to, so she and I only had limited opportunities for words. And whenever I thought about joining her, she was sitting with other people and talking, and I didn't want to interrupt. But in reality, seeing her was extremely distracting, and every word meant a lot to me.

Anyway, I had a great time. I just think too much, even when I'm full of beer. It'd probably be easier if I were a horny ass when intoxicated, as opposed to a silly but lovesick chicken mother hen. 

THE SUREST WAY TO BE PROVEN WRONG IS TO GIVE GEORGE BUSH THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT.

The environment. The judiciary. WMDs. The occupation of Iraq. The deficit. Pick a subject, any subject, and giving Bush the benefit of the doubt has been a guaranteed loser.

James Wolcott, author of Attack Poodles and Other Media Mutants is one of the most astute media observers I've yet read. The quote above is taken from an article he wrote this week chastising a rather self-satisfied justification of Bush wishy-washiness from a "purple" American (Republican Red and Democrat Blue), which itself was very dismissive of those citizens who absolutely cannot stand George W. Bush after four years of bumbling and divisiveness and lethal arrogance.

Overall, I'm amazed that "Bush hatred" has become "the new racism" (just like blue dress shirts are "the new white") in political discourse -- where any mention of his incompetence, simplicity, failures, or lack of integrity simply brands you an irrational Bush hater who cannot possibly have anything meaningful to contribute and should be shunned as an example to the others. There are so many valid and defensible reasons to abhor the policies, words, deeds and plans of this Administration that dismissing it as wild-eyed fervor is both insulting and tellingly desperate.

Anyway, read the above article. It makes the point far more eloquently than I. 

America, I'd like to think that I'm a friend of yours -- or at least, my country is your biggest trading partner and we share the world's longest undefended border -- and I've been really worried about you lately. As a friend I need to tell you something important. A friend doesn't stand by while someone they care about is stuck in a bad relationship. A friend speaks up and says that you need to take charge and move on with your life before this situation gets any worse. That's why you need to break it off with George W. Bush.

I know, America, it's hard to hear. You love him -- of course you do. You've been through a lot together over the past four years, and you believe in standing by your man. But pull up a seat, please, and have a drink with me while I tell you some things I think you need to hear.

First of all, let's talk about September 11, 2001. It was a terrible time for you, America, and Bush was there to console you and offer a strong shoulder in your time of need. The whole world was on your side that day, and Bush stood atop the ruins and promised justice for you. But in the first eight months of his administration, America, George W. Bush and his cabinet put terrorism (at home and abroad) on the back burner so as to focus on issues like the war on drugs, restricting stem cell research, and covering up the breasts of the statue of justice at the Department of Justice. In that time, Bush spent almost the entire month of August, 2001, on vacation in Crawford, Texas. Twenty-eight days of wasted opportunity. Bush and his staff failed to appreciate the significance of a memo stating that there was good new evidence that Osama bin Laden was determined to strike targets on US soil. September 11 was one of the worst things to happen to you, America, but it was the best thing that's ever happened to George W. Bush. It's turned your attention away from how bad he is for you. Bush wasn't looking out for you before terrible that day -- he was just there to pick up the pieces and remind you of it every time you doubted him.

Bush took another 28 day vacation in August 2003, the second-longest vacation of any president in US history. (Record holder Richard Nixon.). Bush has spent no less than 500 days on vacation during his four-year presidency, America. That's over a third of his term. In contrast, America, you only receive thirteen days of vacation on average each year.

George W. Bush promised to make you safer, America, and make the world safer. But he took too long to go to Afghanistan, and let the mastermind of your woes get away. And instead of acknowledging that failure, Bush and his friends switched your attention to Iraq. They made you think that Saddam Hussein was a bad man who had something to do with your woes on September 11, 2001. They made you think he was in league with al-Qaeda. They made you think he had weapons of mass destruction in vast quantities and that he wanted to use them against you. Bush misled the you into an unnecessary war and an intractable quagmire in Iraq; over 993 995 997 999 1000 1001 American soldiers have unnecessarily died in Iraq and over six thousand have been wounded because of that deception, America. 793 of the deaths took place after George W. Bush boasted of an end to major combat operations in Iraq, and goaded your enemies with the arrogant words "Bring them on." And none of those deaths served any good purpose, America. Iraq was no threat to you. Iraq had no weapons of mass destruction, America. You were misled. And every time a new failure emerged, George W. Bush changed the rationale for why he went and why he ordered your soldiers to fight and die. Worse, the constant aggression and saber rattling has heightened tensions between you and North Korea and Iran, nuclear-power nations which do pose a threat, and whose moderate elements have been silenced because of the jingoistic furor stirred up by George W. Bush's poor diplomacy.

George W. Bush lied to you -- he covered up evidence of Saudi state support for al-Qaeda (the Saudies are good friends of George's family, but are no friends of yours, America) even as he misled the US into a war against Iraq based on the lie that Iraq, not Saudi Arabia, supported al-Qaeda terrorists. And by attempting to push other nations around and cajole them into siding with him, George W. Bush has made the world wonder just what kind of country you are, America. A lot of your real friends aren't sure they want to spend time with you anymore, America, because you're always with him. They say you've forgotten them, and don't appreciate them, and call them names.

George W. Bush has failed to do a thing for your economy, losing over 1 million of your jobs and promising he'd get them back, but instead he fooled you into giving new tax givebacks and loopholes for his wealthy friends and backers. George Bush promised you 320,000 new jobs a month, America, but barely delivered 144,000 this month after averaging 104,000 per month in the three months previous. That's not enough even to keep up with the growth of your population, and the 150,000 new people looking for work each month. If you give him another four years, his next plan is to introduce a flat tax (which makes you pay more money for all of his costly wars and contracts, and lets his rich friends pay less), privatize social security (without explaining how he can do so without putting you further in debt and jeopardizing your retirement) and don't forget, America, that George W. Bush has utterly failed to address your health care crisis. During his term, your health care costs have risen 20-25% for the average family, and there are 75 million Americans with no health care at all. Are you really being looked after, America? Or have you been promised far more than you're really getting? Look closely, look critically, and ask yourself if George W. Bush is helping you -- or is he just helping his friends to your hard-earned money, opportunities, and benefits behind your back?

The world is a more dangerous place since you let George W. Bush hang his hat on your bedpost, America. He has alienated your friends and goaded your enemies and turned Iraq, for all its pre-war problems, into a breeding ground for new terrorists who blame you for his arrogance. You are worse off than ever before. Your air and water are dirtier, your energy costs are going up and up, and you're $454 billion in debt. You let him borrow your credit cards, America, and look what he's done to you. Four years ago, you had money in the bank. You had income. Now you're in the hole deeper than ever, and all you've got to show for it are tax cuts, wars, missile programs, and unemployment.

America, George W. Bush talks a good talk, but he's really a miserable failure.

It's time to break up with him. It's for your own good. America, you're a great country and you can do so much better. It's a tough decision, and I know you're uncertain, but you've always stood proud in the past and made the hard choices when necessary. He's no good for you.

There's a great guy for you out there, America. His name is John Kerry. He's just the guy you need right now. He's strong and has a lot of good ideas. Don't believe it when George W. Bush (and his nasty little friend Dick Cheney) tell you Kerry's a flip-flopper. It just means he thinks before he acts. Don't confuse George W. Bush's puerile stubbornness for resolve and leadership -- look where it's gotten you so far.

America, it's time to dump his ass.

[Update: eight more American soldiers have been killed in Iraq in the 24 hours that elapsed since this post was first published. Numbers updated accordingly above.]