Catching the final night of the Republican National Convention and then bearing nearly three days of downtime during Hurricane Frances, my husband and I had plenty of opportunity to discuss our county’s future. I must say I am disturbed to see him exhibit a neo-conservative bend. He agrees with me that things must take a grassroots approach to bring this country back around to the great ideas instituted by our founders, but is unwilling to step in now and make a change "midstream." Changing leadership in wartime, (though how do you legitimately declare war against an abstraction and not a specific enemy or country?) will cause some distraction, but in four years we’ll be changing leaders again anyway. First of all, for this to be midstream assumes that the war on terror will last only eight years. Secondly, the distraction of changing leaders is hardly more than changing the names on the doors and letterhead, and also assumes that there is a huge difference between the self-serving, frat boy candidates and their pre-programmed policies. I think we all know better than that, don’t we? Lewis Lapham’s Theater of War, subtitled In Which the Republic Becomes an Empire, has conveniently been left atop the tank for his morning constitutional.

Classical enthusiasts may enjoy, in horrified, nodding agreement, the parallels to the Roman Empire. We all know what happened there. The motives and foreign policies of our last nine presidents have been directed by, and in the name of, their respective God, who seems to be advising them that crusades and empire building is the way to go. Remember the Crusades? What is the difference between Bush and Ashcroft’s declaration of holy war in the name of God and Democracy and Bin Laden’s jihad in the name of Allah? Lapham references this quote from Evan S. Connell’s Deus lo Volt! Chronicle of the Crusades:

“We hear ominous tidings. We hear of a malevolent race, withdrawn from the communion of our belief, Turks, Persians, Arabs, accursed, estranged from God, that have laid waste by fire and sword to the walls of Constantinople, to the Arm of St. George…. Turks perforate the navels of God’s servants, pull forth and bind their intestines to stakes, lead them about while viscera discolor the earth. They pierce Christians with arrows, flog the suffering. What else can we say? What more shall be said? To whom, therefore, does the task of vengeance fall, if not to you?”

Bush post September 11, or Pope Urban II on the eve of the first Crusade?

Lapham suggests for an honorable, enlightened foreign policy we first ask potential allies:

“…not ‘Are you for us or against us?’ but ‘In what circumstances do we find those of your people not living in the palace? Do they walk upright on two feet in the manner of human beings or do they crouch on their hindquarters like humiliated dogs?’”

Hmmm. Diem, the Shah of Shahs, Somoza, Thieu, Marcos, Noriega, Saddam Hussein…I think he’s got something there.

Squeeze this book in before the election.

Next on my list is to finish Lapham’s Waiting for the Barbarians. (Margaret, I’d like to hear about Gag Rule since I’m on a roll.

Anyway, about the election, tell me I’m wasting my vote, throwing it away, pulling needed votes away from another candidate, you may be right, I don’t care; I’m voting my conscience. My preferred candidate will not win this election but enough votes to third party representatives will hopefully make someone take notice that we’re not all happy with the status quo. Whether it’s the politicians, my fellow Americans, or citizens of the world, somebody needs to see that we’re not all going to go gentle into that good night.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

---- Dylan Thomas

Yeah, yeah, I know it’s about death, but the death of democracy works for me too. Here's a more obvious one:

War Pigs

Generals gathered in their masses
Just like witches at black masses
Evil minds that plot destruction
Sorcerers of death's construction
In the fields the bodies burning
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind
poisoning their brainwashed minds
Oh Lord yeah

Politicians hide themselves away
They only started the war
Why should they go out to fight
They leave that all to the poor

Time will tell on their power minds
Making war just for fun
Treating people just like pawns in chess
Wait 'til their judgment day comes

Now in darkness world stops turning
As the war machine keeps burning
No more war pigs have the power
Hand of God has struck the hour
Day of judgment God is calling
On their knees, the war pigs crawling
Begging mercy for their sins
Satan laughing spreads his wings
Oh Lord yeah

---- Iommi/Osbourne/Butler/Ward (Black Sabbath)

Did anyone see Letterman last night? While Kerry smarmily tossed out one-liners, Dave seriously and persistently picked away, and Green Day performed “American Idiot.” Take that, critics of the liberal media.