How about now?

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(Associated Press photo)

 

If you’re inclined to keep score:

  • Sandy Hook Elementary, Newtown, CT, December 14, 2012 — 20 children, six adult staff, all killed.
  • Century Movie Theater, Aurora, CO, July 20, 2012 — 12 dead, 70 wounded.
  • Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, Charleston, SC, June 17, 2015 — nine killed.
  • Navy Operational Support Center, Chattanooga, TN, July 16, 2015 — four killed.

Not the mass killings of first-graders, nor movie goers, nor worshippers at a Bible study have moved the lawmakers the gun lobby keeps on its payroll  to reconsider our unconscionably irresponsible approach toward gun control.

I don’t expect the killing of four Marines at a recruiting center in Tennessee this morning will change that. Do you?

 

As Jade Helm begins …

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(Cartoon by Nick Anderson)

The New York Times has your preview of the fun here:

Sindy Miller, who runs a hair salon on Main Street, said fear of a military takeover had been the talk of Christoval.

“They’re worried that they’re going to come in and take their firearms away,” Ms. Miller said. “Martial law, basically. I try not to listen to all these conspiracy-theory-type people. All they’re worried about is their beer and their guns.”

Woody had it right then, and sadly, has it right now

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I never cease to be amazed at the prescience and timeliness of some artists. Take Woody Guthrie who in the 1940s recorded “Mean Talking Blues.”

With lines like, “I hate everybody don’t think like me, and I’d rather see you dead than I’d ever see you free,” or “Rather see you starved to death than see you at work,” the lyrics could have been written yesterday:

I’m the meanest man that ever had a brain,
All I scatter is aches and pains.
I’m carbolic acid, and a poison face,
And I stand flat-footed in favor of crime and disgrace.
If I ever done a good deed — I’m sorry of it.

I’m mean in the East, mean in the West,
Mean to the people that I like the best.
I go around a-causin’ lot of accidents,
And I push folks down, and I cause train wrecks.
I’m a big disaster — just goin’ somewhere’s to happen.
I’m an organized famine — studyin’ now I can be a little bit meaner.
I’m still a whole lot too good to suit myself — just mean…

I ride around on the subway trains,
Laughin’ at the tight shoes dealin’ you pain.
And I laugh when the car shakes from side to side,
I laugh my loudest when other people cry.
Can’t help it — I was born good, I guess,
Just like you or anybody else —
But then I… just turned off mean..

I hate ev’rybody don’t think like me,
And I’d rather see you dead than I’d ever see you free.
Rather see you starved to death
Than see you at work —
And I’m readin’ all the books I can
To learn how to hurt —
Daily Misery — spread diseases,
Keep you without no vote,
Keep you without no union.

Well, I hurt when I see you gettin’ ‘long so well,
I’d ten times rather see you in the fires of hell.
I can’t stand to fixed… see you there all fixed up in that house so nice,
I’d rather keep you in that rotten hole, with the bugs and the lice,
And the roaches, and the termites,
And the sand fleas, and the tater bugs,
And the grub worms, and the stingarees,
And the tarantulas, and the spiders, childs of the earth,
The ticks and the blow-flies —
These is all of my little angels
That go ’round helpin’ me do the best parts of my meanness.
And mosquiters…

Well, I used to be a pretty fair organized feller,
Till I turned a scab and then I turned off yeller,
Fought ev’ry union with teeth and toenail,
And I sprouted a six-inch stinger right in the middle of the tail,
And I growed horns…
And then I cut ’em off, I wanted to fool you.
I hated union ever’where,
‘Cause God likes unions
And I hate God!

Well, if I can get the fat to hatin’ the lean
That’d tickle me more than anything I’ve seen,
Then get the colors to fightin’ one another,
And friend against friend, and brother… and sister against brother,
That’ll be just it.
Everybody’s brains a-boilin’ in turpentine,
And their teeth fallin’ out all up and down the streets,
That’ll just suit me fine.
‘Cause I hate ever’thing that’s union,
And I hate ever’thing that’s organized,
And I hate ever’thing that’s planned,
And I love to hate and I hate to love!
I’m mean, I’m just mean…

 

Stand aside, victims coming through

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Orange Order courageously parades its victimhood in the face of intolerance and sectarian bigotry. (Belfast Newsletter photo)

 

A delicious bit of irony appeared in today’s Belfast Newsletter in the form of a news release from the Orange Order, which sponsors most of the Twelfth of July “festivities” that mark 325 years of Protestant dominance over Catholics in Northern Ireland. The order encouraged its members and supporters to “enjoy the Twelfth, despite republican intolerance.”

The self-pity is positively astounding:

Our proud traditions are dear to us, and it is therefore deeply regretful that increasingly petty restrictions are being imposed on our parades by a discredited and inept Parades Commission.

Such creeping cultural suppression is aided and abetted by the deliberate intolerance of republicans.

There is an element within republicanism which acts in a sectarian way by continually attacking the cultural symbols of Protestantism – our parades, our halls, our flags and sometimes even our people. That republican sectarianism should be consigned to the dustbin of history where it belongs.

Our struggle will be won by means that have been successful in defeating those who oppose us – perseverance, peaceful protest and prayer.

Meanwhile, over in Lisburn, a completely nonsectarian, perfectly tolerant Loyalist bonfire will blaze up in a few hours, crowned, as you can see below, with an grand array of Irish flags and effigies of Gerry Adams, Gerry Kelly, and Martin McGuinness.

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(Photo from Mairia Cahill on Twitter)

 

Culture. It’s a beautiful thing.