A Turkeyhead is a Turkeyhead
Last year. October.
I am sitting at 4:30 in the morning in a borrowed truck at a Walmart near Gonzales, LA, with my cousin, who I haven't seen in decades, and we are waiting for the most important business in America to actually open (because God forbid they should actually spend a dollar more than they need to) so that we can buy some key items that will help us when we reach the houses of our aunts (that we do not know if they'll actually be standing, flooded, looted, or razed) when I realize I wish John Kerry had called GW Bush a Turkey Head. Or a Butt Head. Or something, anything, because that's what he thought the sonofabitch was.
As you may know from the text on the main blog page, Huey Long mixed it up with the mayor of New Orleans over the mayoral race of 1934. T. Semmes Walsmley, the mayor, went as far as Washington DC to shove a knuckle sandwich in Long's face. Long, of course, was hiding out in the bathrooms of DC trying to avoid the fist full of lesson because in those days, in politics, IT MEANT SOMETHING to be calling people names and IT MEANT SOMETHING if the mayor of an important city hit you in the face.
Walmsley won the election against a Long croney whose name has since been forgotten. But by God, those days you knew who stood for what. Now, when Howard Dean calls Republicans a bad name, you have seriously important democrats (such as Nancy Pelosi) trying to disavow anything that might be said with passion, instead of saying, "That old Howard - you know Howard."
Maybe if we had people like that in public office, I wouldn't have to be spending eight times my tax credit (that "President" GW gave me) to find out if the houses of my family are still standing. Because it's time to call names. It's time to punch somebody in the face. It's time to say what you mean.
That's what I felt watching five days of governmental impotence in action following the damage of Katrina. I kept having two competing thoughts -- (1) I have to get on a plane and help everybody becauase the government appears to be unable to do something as simple as get a can of food a few miles over a bit of standing water to a starving refugee and (2) No, no - they'll get their act together so it's pointless for me to leave, especially since I've heard from all my family and they are safe in Baton Rouge.
In the end, I stayed, to my own shame. I just could not believe that I, as an individual, could do more to help people than the entire weight of the government of the United States of America. In the end, I realized that I should just have shown up, bought a couple dozen cans of Chef Boyardee, thrown them in a backpack, and walked or waded into downtown. But I kept believing that the entire weight of the government was more capable than myself or a couple hundred seriously-minded individuals with hard-core intent.
That was until I heard that the CANADIAN MOUNTIES were in New Orleans on DAY TWO. For some people in the Ninth Ward, the first rescuers they saw were the Mounties. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? The first people into New Orleans after one of the worst disasters in the history of the country were from another country?
By now you probably can guess that I'm not all to sympathetic to the current administration. You may even guess that I'm partial to the left side of the aisle. Still, I have a hard time grasping any support of those in power now. I know that good old liberal Jimmy Carter was one of the first people into Three Mile Island, but I bet that even Ronald Reagan would have climbed up on a Sherman Tank and hauled in supplies. Eisenhower would have choppered them in. Even Nixon would have joined in, as he did with the protesters in outside the Lincoln Memorial. And he probably would have brought a few cans of food.
GW? He just supported those in charge. As though the response to this disaster was ACCEPTABLE. As though the response to this disaster was PLANNED. He put his stamp of approval on a massive failure of bureaucracy.
OKAY. Done with ranting for the moment. I want you to LAUGH at the idiocy of people who think they are smarter than you, not rage. My personal philosophy is that smart is overrated. What we need is GOOD. Decency. Respect. Alcohol. In moderation.
In case you wanted to know, all my aunts are okay. One lost her house, two had serious damage, and one had moderate damage. But they are all safe. Three of the four are out - they're moving to Baton Rouge. The fourth wants back in. She's the one with the lost house. It's amazing, really. Just walls and struts, but she's 90 and she's going to get a trailer. I think she'll succeed. Because she loves the house. And the life. And I wish her all the best. I wish all of them all the best. I wish everyone in New Orleans all the best. Because they need it.
So I wrote about it all. I really don't know what I'm doing. Blogs are a strange burning bush to me. But they are basic. Really. Dennis Miller on HBO. Howard Beal from Network. Archy at the New York Sun (look it up). So I hope I can keep this up. I hope I have the energy. Because Ray Nagin won re-election, despite the hard weirdness of his statements. The guy can say "chocolate city" all he wants, but he's a passionate man in an ugly place. Passion counts.
And if T. Semmes Walmsley was in Nagin's way, I hope he'd call him a Turkey Head.
I am sitting at 4:30 in the morning in a borrowed truck at a Walmart near Gonzales, LA, with my cousin, who I haven't seen in decades, and we are waiting for the most important business in America to actually open (because God forbid they should actually spend a dollar more than they need to) so that we can buy some key items that will help us when we reach the houses of our aunts (that we do not know if they'll actually be standing, flooded, looted, or razed) when I realize I wish John Kerry had called GW Bush a Turkey Head. Or a Butt Head. Or something, anything, because that's what he thought the sonofabitch was.
As you may know from the text on the main blog page, Huey Long mixed it up with the mayor of New Orleans over the mayoral race of 1934. T. Semmes Walsmley, the mayor, went as far as Washington DC to shove a knuckle sandwich in Long's face. Long, of course, was hiding out in the bathrooms of DC trying to avoid the fist full of lesson because in those days, in politics, IT MEANT SOMETHING to be calling people names and IT MEANT SOMETHING if the mayor of an important city hit you in the face.
Walmsley won the election against a Long croney whose name has since been forgotten. But by God, those days you knew who stood for what. Now, when Howard Dean calls Republicans a bad name, you have seriously important democrats (such as Nancy Pelosi) trying to disavow anything that might be said with passion, instead of saying, "That old Howard - you know Howard."
Maybe if we had people like that in public office, I wouldn't have to be spending eight times my tax credit (that "President" GW gave me) to find out if the houses of my family are still standing. Because it's time to call names. It's time to punch somebody in the face. It's time to say what you mean.
That's what I felt watching five days of governmental impotence in action following the damage of Katrina. I kept having two competing thoughts -- (1) I have to get on a plane and help everybody becauase the government appears to be unable to do something as simple as get a can of food a few miles over a bit of standing water to a starving refugee and (2) No, no - they'll get their act together so it's pointless for me to leave, especially since I've heard from all my family and they are safe in Baton Rouge.
In the end, I stayed, to my own shame. I just could not believe that I, as an individual, could do more to help people than the entire weight of the government of the United States of America. In the end, I realized that I should just have shown up, bought a couple dozen cans of Chef Boyardee, thrown them in a backpack, and walked or waded into downtown. But I kept believing that the entire weight of the government was more capable than myself or a couple hundred seriously-minded individuals with hard-core intent.
That was until I heard that the CANADIAN MOUNTIES were in New Orleans on DAY TWO. For some people in the Ninth Ward, the first rescuers they saw were the Mounties. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? The first people into New Orleans after one of the worst disasters in the history of the country were from another country?
By now you probably can guess that I'm not all to sympathetic to the current administration. You may even guess that I'm partial to the left side of the aisle. Still, I have a hard time grasping any support of those in power now. I know that good old liberal Jimmy Carter was one of the first people into Three Mile Island, but I bet that even Ronald Reagan would have climbed up on a Sherman Tank and hauled in supplies. Eisenhower would have choppered them in. Even Nixon would have joined in, as he did with the protesters in outside the Lincoln Memorial. And he probably would have brought a few cans of food.
GW? He just supported those in charge. As though the response to this disaster was ACCEPTABLE. As though the response to this disaster was PLANNED. He put his stamp of approval on a massive failure of bureaucracy.
OKAY. Done with ranting for the moment. I want you to LAUGH at the idiocy of people who think they are smarter than you, not rage. My personal philosophy is that smart is overrated. What we need is GOOD. Decency. Respect. Alcohol. In moderation.
In case you wanted to know, all my aunts are okay. One lost her house, two had serious damage, and one had moderate damage. But they are all safe. Three of the four are out - they're moving to Baton Rouge. The fourth wants back in. She's the one with the lost house. It's amazing, really. Just walls and struts, but she's 90 and she's going to get a trailer. I think she'll succeed. Because she loves the house. And the life. And I wish her all the best. I wish all of them all the best. I wish everyone in New Orleans all the best. Because they need it.
So I wrote about it all. I really don't know what I'm doing. Blogs are a strange burning bush to me. But they are basic. Really. Dennis Miller on HBO. Howard Beal from Network. Archy at the New York Sun (look it up). So I hope I can keep this up. I hope I have the energy. Because Ray Nagin won re-election, despite the hard weirdness of his statements. The guy can say "chocolate city" all he wants, but he's a passionate man in an ugly place. Passion counts.
And if T. Semmes Walmsley was in Nagin's way, I hope he'd call him a Turkey Head.
posted by Mad Duck at 8:28 PM
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