I’m watching “Hannity and Colmes” on FOX last nite and…Whaddaya mean, “Why am I watching FOX News?” You don’t know me. That’s how I roll! “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

So anyway, Sean and Dick Morris are tag-teaming on the latest racial shitstorm regarding McCains TV ad, which features Brittany Spears and Paris Hilton and Obama. Bob Herbert (a journalist I respect) and others are calling it subliminally racist, comparing it to the ‘swift-boating ad’ that led to the recent Senatorial defeat of Harold Ford in Tennessee. (A tarty blonde made the phone symbol and breathily mouthed, “Call me”) Sean and Dick poo-poo their response as overly sensitive; they insist the ad simply compares the vapid celebrity of the two blondes with public adulation of Obama.

(Today Ann Coulter insisted it was insulting, not to Obama but to blondes in general. Oh Ann, you are such a breath of fresh air - like a sunny day in Beijing.)

I call bullshit. The Right and their minions revel in tweaking racist fears in their small minded camp followers, with images that imply sexual subtext between blonde white women and black men - in this case, Obama. I call bullshit because of the totally unrelated footage that appeared throughout this hour-long broadcast. Each time they mentioned Obama, a 15 second clip of him appeared, vigorously mounting the stage, greeting the local political rep with a brief embrace and kiss on the cheek, then proceeding to the mike. The political rep is blonde, female and not unattractive. This footage ran FIVE SEPARATE TIMES. No dialogue, no comment, no follow-up, just Obama in the background, hugging and kissing this blonde, over and over and over.

They know what they’re doing…and so should you. My advice to Obama, from this point on, is to limit himself to a chaste handclasp when greeting any white woman who is not Barbara Bush or older. Not that it’ll make that much difference – they have beaucoup past footage of Obama hugging and kissing star-struck young female political activists who are blonde and eminently do-able.

You know what they say about politics: You can overcome just about anything other than being caught in bed with a dead boy or a live girl. In this case, they don’t need a sex-tape. The good ol’ boys really get their knickers in a twist when they see how downright excited their women get over this charismatic candidate. Obama may aspire to be post racial…but America remains receptive to overt and covert racial propaganda. Rove lives…and Goebbels must be grinning in his grave.

5 August 2008

RADIO TALKING HEADS

There’s a trio on daytime talk radio in LA - Frosty, Heidi and Frank -who have managed to be consistently engaging and funny for the past eight years or so. This is no mean feat, given they are on-air from 10 AM to 2 PM daily, some 20 hours a week. They present three very different personas (and they are personas) but I believe my consistently episodic listening qualifies me to characterize them as IBM -The Indiana Bureau of Misinformation ; ) I will refer to them as the trio (for they hate being called “The Triplets”)…tho clueless callers continue to greet them as such, instantly raising hackles

They all moved out here from Indiana, with broadcasting stops along the way, were teamed up in 2000 and have slowly morphed into native Californians without abandoning their redneck roots…and I say that with affection. They seem perfectly suited to their demographic – not too cerebral, not too informed, not at all classy.

Frosty is the dean, a sexless, weight-challenged, uptight neurotic whose act is to be the pedant, the ‘grown up’. He is also a gifted if lazy musician, who often contributes musical riffs on his studio keyboard. Frosty has a prodigal brother who is homeless and lives on the streets. Heidi is a tall, blond, breast-implanted lesbian, adores wine and dogs and lives with her lover, “The Italian’. She has a brother who’s in jail. Frank is a free-spirited, hard-drinking, man-boy with a colorful sexual past (and present) and an out of wedlock daughter he recently discovered and now has a relationship with.

Their phone screener is Christa, a feisty, opinionated woman of color, who must surely spend half her working day in active cringe mode as the trio savage cultural, racial and religious traditions. I knew what to expect, early on, once I heard them discussing Tiger Wood’s racial background. “Well his fathers Black…” “Yeah, and his mom is…Thai?” “Yeah, she’s from Taiwan.” And they moved blithely forward with nary a backward glance at that clunker. I then realized their funniest moments would stem from their specious knowledge of history, culture, geography…and I have yet to be disappointed.

They all went to college (state mills) and have no pretension about the quality of their own intellect – except when looking down at other redneck subjects of the selected news clippings they read with evident relish. “Who’s Going To Hell?” is their weekly contest, as to the most egregious behavior posted on the AP news wire that day.

They pretty much resemble most white people NOT from Alabama or Mississippi or other states popularly looked down upon as déclassé or backward. Their contempt for such people is evident, particularly in their humor, suggesting “I may be from Indiana and maybe I am a redneck but I’m head and shoulders above those people.” And their listeners affirm that perception, calling in daily with tales of their own degradation, lack of polish and common insensibilities.

With all that being said, make no mistake, they are witty and enjoy great chemistry, mocking each other, their callers, their guests and their audience to humorous effect. This election season (already feels like a decade) offers racially tinged news stories on a daily basis and the trio never disappoints me. It’s the casual certitude of their observations, often misinformed, rarely earning reflection, which places them so comfortably into contemporary culture. To the trio, Black people may be ‘cool’, they may be sexually compelling, they may be threatening, they may be suitable targets for humor but most of all, they are, THE OTHER.

Other OTHERS include Jews, Moslems, Asians, Latinos, Mormons, pretty much anyone apart from lower middle class white kids who grew up in the Midwest. And the thought, the suggestion that they are unconsciously racist elicits a patella-like reflex of denial. “Noooo, not me! You know me! Christa, tell them!” And Christa, without hesitation, with swift, grounded soundbites, offers them both insight and forgiveness. But their compulsive sniggering in the background, on-mike, whenever anything racially suggestive (or sexually suggestive, for that matter) is under discussion is far more telling than any management disclaimer. In truth, they are like giggly high school kids, trying to see how much they can get away with, on the air. There is no malice, at least in their on-air personas…but let’s face it. White people (see, I capitalized it; it helps to start a sentence with that word;) have a host of blind spots when it comes to cultures other than their own. They honestly don’t get it…and they don’t get that they don’t get it.

You know what? Frosty can probably empathize with those who receive negative judgment or prejudice for being overweight and out of shape. He is both. Heidi can probably empathize with lesbians and gays who daily contend with negative judgment about their sexual preference. She’s a lesbian. Frank’s persona manifests the most common sense (Franks Army;) and can probably empathize with other cuckolds and fathers of bastard daughters. Their willingness to discuss their own frailties - openly, shamelessly - is a very endearing trait. But as with so many other white people, they are never gonna accept how little they truly know about the lives of people who are not like them. Hey, it’s entertainment, it’s not Jeopardy or PBS. They are the antithesis of PC.

The recent New Yorker cover was grist for this weeks mill…and for a lotta mills! After mistakenly describing Michelle Obama’s caricature as “a terrorist” (draped in bandoleer and cammi), completely missing the 70’s Afro and Black Nationalist vibe, they proceeded to indulge in White America’s favorite indoor sport: trashing others too ignorant to ‘get the joke’. For those ‘too cool for the room’ (given ‘the room’ is occupied by clueless, undereducated, racist, thoughtless, irreverent masses) looking down on others is a blood sport. “Boy oh boy, what a shit storm this cover raised!” “Well sure, I get it, but you know there are all these people in (fill in the state) who probably think that Obama is a Muslim.”

FYI, an alarming percentage of polled Americans do think that Obama is a Muslim. They may not all come out and say so, but way down inside, it lurks on the periphery of their consciousness. “Hmmm, yeah, you know…that (fill in your epithet)… I dunno, just something about him that I’m not comfortable with.” (Could it be you fear he’s seriously smarter than you? Could that be troubling you? Hmmm?)

So the early afternoon was filled with laughter and calls and trio riffs and everyone got to feel superior to all those unsophisticated people that just don’t get satire. Yeah, right. Like .000001% of the trio’s demographic reads or has even heard of The New Yorker. Apart from the omnipresent and peevish Californian resentment regarding anything referencing New York (this must reflect the biggest inferiority complex in the world, truly a tale of two cities) there was a feeding frenzy, on air and pretty much around the country, discussing this newest controversy because TO DO SO, SUGGESTS THAT THOSE DISCUSSING IT ARE MORE ENLIGHTENED THAN THE MADDING CROWD.

That’s a very important part of life today. Maybe it’s always been so. It is ever so important to be better than someone else or others. That way, however humble your roots, however trailer park or embarrassing your family and upbringing, you will be elevated by reflecting upon the displayed ignorance of others. Not necessarily wiser or richer…but somehow happier. Shit rolls downhill and it’s nicer to live on the upper slopes.

The trio have flourished out here, now have rewarding contracts, own nice homes, drive nice cars and enjoy the perks of B- LA celebrity. Good for them. Laughter is a rare and precious commodity in this world. Take your endorphins where you find them. Count your blessings. But with all the talk about the opportunities for “racial understanding” this presidential contest offers, I am noticing something very interesting: White people have hit the wall. They are tired of racial issues. They just want all this to go away, quickly and quietly.

Understanding. Empathy. Good words, positive concepts. How are they achieved? It might serve mankind to better understand the ramifications of PMS or menopause. It might serve civilians to better understand the encompassing consequences of PTSD. It might serve women to better appreciate the condition of ‘blue balls’…(OK, that’s probably a bridge too far; )

But the question remains: How many of us are willing to repress our gag reflex and walk in another’s shoes? Answer: Not a meaningful percentage among those who’d be served by doing so.

Transformation is a ponderous concept. Most believe older generations to be stuck in their perceptions. Yeah, maybe. But if you want a sense of how contemporary Americans feel, plug into the anonymous responses to any reportage regarding Black celebrities, athletes, criminals, politicians…essentially any story that welcomes comment. These posters aren’t boomers…they are disaffected, resentful, cyber-savvy young citizens who have no problem expressing their anger and unwillingness to embrace as equals and condemn whomever they consider THE OTHER…just for being not like them

I’m not at all sure what is gonna change that mindset…and without some sort of transformative change, I don’t see the days ahead looking much brighter, racially speaking, than the days gone by.

18 July 2008

I’m not sure why there seems to be such confusion these days between two very different terms. In a single generation, we’ve gone from vilification of soldiers for their service in Vietnam to glorification for comparable service in the Middle East.

Serving one’s country in uniform is an honorable choice, without question…but hardly heroic. Heroism describes actions that defy self-preservation, self-interest. It is choosing to protect the wellbeing of others, knowing the dangers and consequences for doing so. The Army recognizes heroism with decorations like the Army Commendation Medal, the Bronze Star, the Silver Star, the Distinguished Service Cross and the Medal of Honor.

Heroism also involves something a soldier does…it does not involve something that happens to him. The Purple Heart is awarded for wounds received in combat. Wounds are a consequence of combat, not a choice. This is a fundamental distinction.

Becoming a POW is something that happens to a soldier. One’s conduct during that deprivation might fairly be characterized as heroic under some circumstances. For example, taking a beating for a weaker prisoner, refusing during torture to divulge plans for escape or giving ones life to protect another - all would be heroic. But the simple reality of being a captive is just that. It is something that happened to you. Your service is honorable and your conduct as a POW may be honorable. Heroism involves something else.

John McCain was shot down over North Vietnam during a bombing mission, was injured during the ejection and was beaten and tortured for years by his captors. He survived years of imprisonment under conditions few of us can even begin to imagine. I honor and respect him as a man and as a soldier.

He was a victim of unkind circumstance. That does not make him a hero. Having been a POW does not make him any more (or any less) qualified to lead this nation. It is rather irrelevant. And to point this out, in no way diminishes or disparages his honorable service to America.

2 July 2008

I joined AFTRA in 1972, SAG and AEA shortly thereafter. IMDb lists much but hardly all of the work I’ve done over the past 36 years – soaps, commercials, voice-overs, children’s TV, public affairs TV, prime time, features, and theater. I am a poster child for “middle class actors.”

In my working career, I’ve watched SAG grow from 25,000 to 122,000 members…yet this reality endures. About 10% of SAG will make a consistent living wage and earn health and pension benefits. Five years ago, I saw my peers dying…and took my pension. I’m hardly rich, but I don’t ever need to work again. I have ‘enough’. Yet I’ll bet a SAG actor who begins a career today and enjoys a comparable level of success and consistency to mine will not qualify for a pension, 36 years from now.

Think of the producers as OPEC and we performers as HUMVEE drivers. Simply put, we have zero leverage. We lack sufficient clout to compel them to deal with us in terms we might consider equitable.
Our union leaders are our commanders and this is a time of war. It is not a time for posturing or hubris. A savvy commander assesses the tactical reality and makes decisions that minimize losses, while planning to rejoin the battle at a more advantageous time.

It may be that by next contract negotiation, we have managed to level the playing field and can negotiate with genuine strength. Or maybe not, maybe that ship has sailed. We are comprised of three groups – Stars (and we know who they are), middle class actors (hardly household names but making a living, owning homes, putting kids thru school) and newbie’s (or aspirants or dreamers). Stars don’t need SAG. Newbie’s hope to move up the food chain but have little to lose. The ‘middle class actor’ (like his struggling economic counterpart in American society) is the only one with a dog in this fight.

The issues being contested in negotiations are important in principal but insignificant in pragmatic reality. They are certainly not compelling enough to justify a work stoppage. So why are AFTRA’s 70,000 plus and SAG’s 122,000 plus (given that 44,000 are dual card holders) allowing our leadership to indulge in brinksmanship that endangers not only the opportunity for middle class actors to make what living they may, but also threatening the livelihoods of …I don’t know how many, but a helluva lot! I mean the crews and support people that enable what it is we do?

WAKE UP! It’s 2008, we are a nation a war, an economy in recession, confronting a sinking dollar, soaring energy prices, a housing crisis, global terrorism, massive national debt…have I left anything out? And do you need more reasons to conclude that a work stoppage is an incredibly self destructive choice at this time in our history?

It’s called “show business”. If you want to be creative, do theater. It will enhance your craft and you might enjoy yourself. If you choose to vie for success in what is now prime time or feature films (hoping to buy that winning lottery ticket) well good luck to you! The odds are stacked against you (always have been, always will be) but dreams sometimes come true…and we all have the right to the pursuit of happiness. Just don’t confuse your giddy aspirations with reality, OK?

A strike benefits no one. The producers don’t care. They have product in storage and the belief that viewers will watch any amount of crap they roll out in prime time. The stars care only inasmuch as their big ticket projects will be delayed or shelved…but they won’t miss any meals. The beginners won’t have that chance to show their stuff, make that impression. The crews and behind camera workers will lose income and opportunity. And finally, the class of actors continually held up as “those middle class actors, for whom we’re fighting!” will be those most disadvantaged by a strike.

Approve the AFTRA contract. Compel SAG’s leaders to seek a comparable agreement.

Yes, we got fucked. That sort of thing is going around these days. Tomorrow is another day. But don’t add insult to injury by prolonging this silliness. Get ‘er done! Then use the next 3 years to find ways to insure that what we do is irreplaceable…and therefore valuable…and therefore commensurately rewarded.

FATHERS AND SONS 3 May 2006

Tiger lost his dad today, and I’m feeling for him. The special relationship between Earl Woods and his son, fabled golfer Tiger Woods is well documented, but there is a universal truth in this event. All sons will lose their mothers and fathers at some point. The impact of those losses is comparable yet somehow different. It’s not quantitative, it’s not less or more affecting, it’s just different. Both events are grievous and both are life-altering.

I introduced my father to golf many years ago and it became something we could share with equal passion, a safe place away from our differences regarding Vietnam and Hollywood and politics. We celebrated the ascension of Tiger through college and his early successes on the PGA. Though I now lived in California and he in Ohio, we spent many Sundays on the phone, rooting, commiserating, applauding Tiger’s prowess and competitiveness. “Dad, did you see that? Wow!”

I’m not particularly accomplished as a golfer, comparatively speaking. I’ve broken 80 exactly twice – two rounds of 79 and each was special and a personal triumph. I have one hole-in-one. I have exactly two eagles in my entire life. Tiger has accomplished that feat numerous times in one day. So clearly, I’m not suggesting we share anything other than a passion for the sport.

I enjoy modest celebrity because of my work as an actor. Although I’ve been recognized in many distant lands, Tiger is a world-wide celebrity. If my recognition factor is one hundred, compared to the average citizen, Tiger’s is one million. But we both cherish golf, we both deal with public attention and we both now contend with the loss of our father.

I’d always admired ‘the legend’ of Tiger Woods, long before his PGA success because his father, Earl Woods had served two tours with Special Forces in Vietnam. That war was a defining experience in my own life and I was taken with the idea that a combat professional might raise his son by instilling within him the values and mental toughness required for a child of color to succeed in this world. Tiger is a singular athlete but his success is far more connected to the mental strengths nurtured by his father than his athleticism. There’s no question about his genius and imagination as a golfer. Any week he competes, viewers sense they may capture lighting in a bottle, see something so heroic it will engage everyone, golfer or not. He may not only attempt a shot no one else might dream of trying, he may pull it off! He is simply tougher mentally, spiritually than his competitors.

We’ve watched him grow from a boy to a man, transform his physique, refine his swing, push to demand more of himself. His training regimen has challenged the PGA tour, his competitors now lift and diet and stretch to keep up with Tiger’s own growth. But that mental toughness continues to distance him from his rivals.

Years ago, competing for Stanford in the NCAA golf championships, Tiger came to Ohio State to play The Scarlet, the tougher of OSU’s two 18 hole courses. I was always more comfortable on The Gray, their less demanding circuit because The Scarlet is one bear of a course! Speaking of which, we should remember that OSU’s alumni include John Cook, Tom Weiskoff and The Golden Bear, Jack Nicklaus, considered by many to be the greatest golfer of all time.

My father, then retired from his latest posting as Director of International Studies at OSU (and an avid club member) had volunteered to serve as a marshal that day for the tournament.

Earl Woods had accompanied his son to that event, as usual and for eighteen holes my father and Tiger’s father walked and talked and enjoyed the competition. I have a golf cap, autographed by Tiger to remember that encounter, a souvenir from my father I still cherish.

I struggled with my fathers passing for some time. I am very much the man I am today because of his guidance and example. But I still miss my father. I miss sharing my successes and failures with him. I miss his rich laughter and his warmth.

The image of Earl Woods I will remember is the embrace of his son one afternoon at Augusta, both dressed in Tiger’s traditional Sunday red, sharing and celebrating his fourth Masters victory. The moment is iconic, a hug connecting every father with every son.

Tiger will continue his golfing dominance. He will contend with the absence of that fundamental presence in his life. And I suspect he will continue to share his future accomplishments with his father but now, in a more spiritual way. Being a son means eventually accepting that transition. But for him this is a defining passage. He is his father’s son. Tiger has always had my admiration but today I share his sense of loss.

3 May 2006

H & R

Those of us who contend with racism each day of our lives (and you know who you are) flinch with each race-baiting statement from candidates and their proxies…statements that inflame and obfuscate rather than conciliate and clarify, statements that speak to our most selfish and least positive impulses. However vehemently McCain, Obama or Clinton reject, decry, abhor, denounce each verbal fart (hardly silent but deadly, fer sure) the open sore of racism will continue to ooze and poison our country.

Like we really needed more shit to shovel. There’s no point in turning a cheek and hoping this too will pass. We must confront racism with courage and candor – with ourselves, our families, friends and co-workers. Racism is endemic in America…and everyone needs to step up because bias against gender, age, religion and sexual preference is similarly toxic and ongoing.

You can all read and write and perhaps should look up the definitions of racism, bigotry and prejudice. There are two questions I’d ask you to take home and consider:
1. What conduct do I believe is racist?
2. Do I consider myself to be a racist?

I am a person of color; my ancestry is African, French and Choctaw. Here’s my litmus, regarding racism.

When we regard any individual as somehow less worthy than ourselves, inferior (not because of their education or intelligence or wealth or power or skill) but simply because of their genetic history, then that is racist. I consider less worthy those who are thoughtless, lazy, unprincipled and unreasoning…but someone of any race could resemble those remarks. So color me an asshole, an elitist or judgmental…but I’m no racist.

You call someone a racist these days and you will generate a level of outrage and indignation that is stunning. “How dare you?” “Some of my best friends are…”(fill in the blank) If it’s such an appalling characterization then why is racism so prevalent? Ask any of those “best friends” about their social interactions and prepare to be amazed.

Not that they hear nigger or wetback or gook on a daily basis (tho some do), it’s about the constant stereotyping, paternalism and suspicion that accompanies minorities as they go thru life.
I question the validity of exit poll statistics because I think that their responses reflect their concerns about being judged. Americans know racism is a negative. We would all aspire to be better than that…or at least to be perceived as better than that. If you called David Duke a racist, I suspect he’d smirk and say, “Damn skippy…and proud of it!”

There is no hypocrisy in that acknowledgment. “Yeah, maybe I am a bigamist, maybe I am a pederast, I may be an anarchist, but I’m willing to cop to it.” And you know what, I can roll with that. I may not want to have a beer with you but I can respect that you’re up front about it. What I can’t respect is the posturing of racists who want it both ways: they want the positive regard of society even as they diminish that same society with their racist contempt.

OK, enough abstraction, lets talk specifics. Today’s sermon regards Geraldine Ferraro’s recent statement, “If Obama was a white man, he would not be in this position. And if he was a woman (of any color) he would not be in this position. He happens to be very lucky to be who he is. And the country is caught up in the concept.” Ferraro is regarded as a liberal Democrat, she’s been in national politics for more than 25 years and this ain’t Gerry’s first rodeo. She knows that anything she says will be parsed and will ultimately reflect upon her candidate.

After her remarks were made public and the shitstorm ensued, Gerry artfully re-configured her remarks, suggesting that her intent was to compliment racial progress in America. Had she said anything resembling that, I don’t think she would have caused such tsuris. I happen to believe that Gerry said exactly what she meant in that initial interview and I regard her revisionism with cynicism. But what I found riveting was her demeanor as she defended herself- nasty, menacing, confrontational. Do we really need to see some elderly white woman on TV snarling at her critics? How could this possibly benefit Hillary, a candidate already demonized by her detractors as vindictive and vengeful?

I’d never before regarded Ferraro as a racist…now I’m not so sure. Especially after I learned that she’d used essentially the same words 20 years ago regarding Jesse Jackson’s candidacy. “…because of his radical views, if Jesse Jackson weren’t black he wouldn’t be in the race.”

Ok, this is not a screed about Geraldine Ferraro, this is a screed about racism. She just happens to be this week’s poster child. When you make statements intended to engage your audience’s pre-conceptions about color, your statements are inherently racist. And you should know that. Consider Kelly Tilghmans recent gaffe on the Golf Channel regarding Tiger Woods…”Golfers that want to beat Tiger Woods should lynch him in a dark alley.” She was trying to be hip. Kelly and Tiger are long time friends. But that was a racist statement. Do you understand why? And if you don’t, what about that is confusing?

Americans who rarely encounter racism in their lives (and by that I mean white Americans) are often insensitive to and uninformed about the impact of their thoughtlessness. Asians, Latinos and other minorities struggle daily with this disconnect. They think, “Should I correct this, should I overlook this and why do I have to deal with this shit?” Because you live in America…and racism is engrained in our cultural DNA. Let’s stop the pretending, let’s engage the discussion, let’s strive to marginalize this unhappy reality.

I can remember a joke from my childhood about the NAACP - that it stood for “Niggers Ain’t All Colored People.” By the same token, racists ain’t all white people. I’m speaking to the multitudes of Americans of all races that are essentially decent and fair-minded but too often thoughtless and irresponsible about their communication. That carelessness empowers those wishing to spread dissention.

Can someone make a racist statement yet not be a racist? Yeah, but you only get one bite of that apple. And you better learn something from the experience. Cynics that play the race card do considerable harm. They know better, they know the damage their words cause yet say them anyway, placing their personal agenda above the common good. And then have the prust to protest, “Hey, come on, you know me! I’m no racist!” Bullshit. Stupid is as stupid does.

Now does this mean that humor is off limits? Sorry, I love to laugh and if something is funny I’m gonna giggle, I don’t care whose ox is gored. But I do know the difference between stereotyping and reality. Not everyone else does, so you better pick your moments… and remember that you mock the ethnicity of others at your peril…

I don’t care who you vote for this fall, I just hope you vote, because the problems we face seem without end. If you want to question Obama’s policies, then question them. If you want to ask how his race might inform his judgment then ask that. Obama’s race, Hillary’s gender, McClains age are all legitimate topics of discussion and they should be approached honorably, head on, not obliquely, not with insinuation and subtext. And once addressed and answered then let’s move on. Life’s too short and America’s list of honey-do’s waaaay too long

We’ve come a long way, baby…and we’ve got a long way yet to go.

Here’s a blast from the past: If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.

13 March 2008

Misdirection is a basic tool of the magician. Framing our intervention in Iraq as “a war of liberation” made it appear a worthy aspiration. Except that there are no people of Iraq. Not any more. There are people who live within the territory presently known as Iraq but they are Iraqis in name only. In truth they are Sunni’s or Shiites or Kurds…or members of many splinter groups. And those allegiances are far more binding than any passport stamp. Deposing Saddam? Good move. Poor planning for what came next? Yeah… but understandable, given the judgment, cultural ignorance and arrogance of our war planners.

We cannot succeed in Iraq because the people of Iraq have no investment in that cobbled entity. Paul Newman is seven years older than Iraq. Iraq’s various tribes were forcibly merged into a single nation after WW I… much like Yugoslavia, which then consisted of Serbs, Croates and Slovenes.

If you want to see the future of Iraq, look to the past. Bosnia, Kosova, Croatia, Serbia, Herzegovina, Macedonia and Slovenia once constituted Yugoslavia. Ancient blood feuds between these warring tribes were held in check by the iron rule of Tito. His death in 1980 begat nationalistic aspirations, wars, atrocities and ethnic cleansing – and now we have seven separate sovereign countries.

The three tribes of Iraq will not live together in peace. Their hatred is too great, their histories too riddled with endless assaults and retributions. The surge is not working. There were eighteen benchmarks that defined success. Three have been met.

Yes, hostilities, engagements, suicide bombing, atrocities are all down, but understandably so. About 150,000 Iraqis are dead. Those that could, have fled the country. Those that couldn’t have moved to neighborhoods of their own ethnicity. You have defacto apartheid in Iraq, much of the heavy lifting has been done, ethnic cleansing has been underway for some time (in case you hadn’t noticed…) And whatever comes to pass following our withdrawal will be what would have been, in any case. Sera.

Our troops have performed their missions honorably. What Iraq soon faces may be mitigated by our sacrifice…but also enabled by our clumsy decisions to train, arm and trust soldiers who will follow the guidance of their tribal leaders! We’ve been passing out money to everyone in sight – tribal chiefs, politicians, ‘contractors’, warlords, all in hopes of buying…what? Loyalty? Reliability? Integrity? Time? Jesus, what a clusterfuck!

America should get behind partitioning (three separate Iraqi regions) and the sharing of oil revenues. (Joe Biden said it long ago.) We must not side with Sunni or Shiite or Kurd (tho we can thwart any of their neighbors efforts to subvert Iraq’s coming nation building struggle.) Affix a 10% tax upon Iraqi oil levies from DOLLAR ONE and begin repayment to the Treasury for our investment in their freedom. Let the UN step in to monitor their progress. And by leaving, let us end the fundamental disrespect that our presence poses to their places of reverence.

Let’s get back to Afghanistan and finish what we started. Install bases within their vast uninhabited ranges to monitor their borders with Pakistan and react decisively to our intel on Al Qaida and the Taliban. Follow Israel’s example – WATCH. PLAN. ACT. If we need to strike targets in Iraq, then strike them from Afghanistan.

When you can win, yet you abandon the field - OK, maybe you did “cut and run.” But when you can’t win…and then withdraw…that’s just good judgment and pragmatism. The American occupation of Iraq is a hole. Stop digging. Get out. Quit while you’re behind.

We won the war. USA, USA! BFD! We lost the peace! (which was never ours to win, BTW.) That’s their job. And when enough of them decide that personal freedom means more to them than their tribal allegiances, well that will be a cusp…and then we’ll see what they’re made of…

Let’s be clear. The Sunnis, Shi’ites and Kurds of Iraq must be allowed to craft their own reality. Our misinformed and arrogant meddling has now armed everyone in sight. So be it. Let God sort it out.

5/3/08

MORE GUNS

Bill Maher tonight rightly observed that had last nights Illinois gunman been a Moslem (after killing five, himself and wounding 17 more) our response to this traumatic event would’ve been vastly different. Can you imagine? Think on it.

Few can experientially relate to a present concern; the return of our soldiers from their deployment, some dealing with PTSD. Not having walked in their boots makes PTSD a mystery to civilians. But I think many who watched interviews of students, the survivors of yesterday’s horror were offered a window into the mental disruption of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.. Each student witnessed a moment that called their very existence into question. Those kids will struggle in the coming days - with images, feelings of fear and panic and helplessness, sadness for the unlucky victims and wonder at their own survival. Each student was forced to confront just how random and capricious life and death is. That,you should manage to grasp.

I think I got clear about something tonight. “However much I differ with the Right on so many issues, I still have far more in common with any supporting gun ownership than those wanting to limit our access to certain weapons.” The Illinois Campus Police arrived within seconds after receiving 911 calls… yet affected the outcome not at all. Without a student legally permitted to carry a firearm and seated in that classroom it could have ended in no other way.

Such recent events suggest only two outcomes:
1. The gunman takes his own life…
2. The gunman is neutralized by an armed presence on the scene.

There simply isn’t time. Anyone intending to kill (randomly or specifically) and then take his own life is pretty much impossible to stop. And his motive is irrelevant. It doesn’t matter whether it’s about politics or psychosis or martyrdom. There simply isn’t enough reaction time to matter. Help is not on the way.

Unless there is someone within that room. Someone capable, someone willing to confront such an adversary…and someone armed. Most ‘suiciders’ will think twice, knowing they’ll face victims that might be both armed and unwilling to be victimized.

Many will choose not to bear arms…or even own them. That is their right. Those of us who want a say in our own well-being deserve an equal hearing. We all have the fundamental right to self-defense. ARE WE NOT MEN?

Acts with firearms that were criminal yesterday will still be criminal tomorrow. I suspect some types of crime will become less frequent. But be clear that there will be more deaths from firearms in the future. There are deaths daily in America from firearms. There will always be deaths in America from firearms. Firearms are deadly.
But they’re not nearly as dangerous as our present system (which generally restricts the right of upstanding citizens to bear arms) because our system is unable to prevent those with bad intentions from acquiring their own weapons and ammunition.

There will always be firearms in this country, readily available and for sale to those “in the market”, whatever their intentions. To argue this point is rather pointless – you get it or you don’t. Either the state assumes responsibility for each citizen’s well-being or the individual citizen assumes that task.

We can ask much of our state but we must also each be willing to share the load, when and wherever we can. It seems reasonable and responsible to encourage legislation that will allow US citizens, male and female, of military age (whether deployed in Baghdad or attending classes at their local college) to be licensed, trained and issued a concealed carry permit…if they request it and they fulfill specific and existing gun possession requirements.

This isn’t just about colleges. These events happen in malls, hotels, sporting events - anywhere crowds congregate. Police can’t be everywhere, unless police are EVERYWHERE. They call that a ‘police state’…and I don’t think many of you will like IT.

So bite the bullet, you gun-haters and advocate for the Pyrrhic choice: LET THE PEOPLE BEAR ARMS. The next time (and you know there will be a next time…) that some off-med misanthrope starts shooting - who is then taken down by an armed victim – a voice inside most of us will cheer, “Yeah! Right on! Way to go! Thanks!”

I’ll bet you.

2/15/08

HARD LABOR

I’m a union man, have been since 1971. I pay dues to three separate unions that govern the conditions under which I work as an actor; SAG, AFTRA and AEA. I believe in the value of collective bargaining and organized labor. But I feel that the pendulum has swung too far to the left and unions created to redress wage inequities and unfair working conditions, now exist to preserve and exploit their own power, at the expense of the general public good.

As I write this, a union of perhaps 10,500 men and women is holding this nation hostage to their demands. This is an absurd and unacceptable situation. Our economy is faltering; massive layoffs have been effected, with more to come; unthinkable wealth has been obliterated by the markets grinding decline; corporate fraud has destroyed the lives and savings of thousands of decent, working Americans…and we are at war. Not some of us. Not just those connected to victims of 911 or to our armed forces. We are ALL of us at war today. And I submit that under such radical and trying conditions, this is no time for ‘business as usual’.

The Longshoreman’s Union has a long and proud history. In its time, it provided a level playing field for the working man. Over the past 20 years, its numbers have declined from 100,000 to a tenth of that number. Its called progress. Technology has made so huge a work force unnecessary. These remaining members are among the highest paid American workers today; salaries ranging from $80,000 to more than $150,000 annually. These are not nuclear scientists; this is largely not highly skilled labor. Their clout and success is due to labor contracts that reward them far in excess to their contribution. There are some people in this world that should greet each day by kissing someone’s ass for their good fortune. Instead this miniscule cabal has chosen to subvert this nations’ efforts to counter the economic depressants of terrorism and recession by refusing to give their very best efforts and do their fucking jobs, jobs for which they are absurdly well compensated.

In 1980, during a SAG strike, they allowed my union members to work alongside them on the docks in San Pedro. For several weeks, I reported early each day for the morning shape-up (unchanged since depicted in On The Waterfront in 1954.) “We need so many carpenters, we need so many drivers, we need…” One day, I loaded oranges onto a freighter bound for Japan; on another, I drove Fiats, Ferraris, and a lovely Lamborghini off an Italian freighter; on yet another, I ran to the nearby store, bought an apron and hammer, and presented myself as ‘a carpenter’. I spent that day assembling skids and pallets. The work wasn’t necessarily dangerous, but working there was. Each day, someone lost an arm or broke a leg or died in an accident. It was dangerous because you worked alongside men drunk, stoned or hung over. Policemen, firemen, soldiers have dangerous jobs. They don’t get paid remotely enough for the risks they take. I was grateful for the daily paychecks of $200 and more, but was even more grateful to leave the docks and return to the work of acting. I’m sure there are skilled laborers and gifted managers among their numbers, but the vast majority is simply manual laborers, sons and fathers and uncles and nephews and nieces of former longshoremen. The work they do is important to our economy, but it can be done by any number of others; who would be grateful for significantly lower wages and benefits…and they would be fortunate to enjoy such working conditions.

Back in 1981, Reagan fired striking air traffic controllers and destroyed their union PATCO. These were truly highly skilled workers, a vital part of our economy…but their intransigence threatened our national security and well being and Reagan acted. I know the two situations are not analogous; (management locked out the longshoremen,) but the reality is that they are holding a gun to America’s head, like any Al Qaida operative, with their pouting and work slowdown. Farmers will lose their entire crops, rotting in the holds of ships waiting to be loaded and unloaded; merchants will find their shelves empty for the critical holiday season ahead. We have ENOUGH problems already, we’re running just to stay in place, how can we permit such actions to take place within our domestic borders?

I submit we cannot. I believe Dubya needs to find the balls to act with vision and courage. He’s fine when it comes to sending our troops into the field and harms way to pursue his policies, but there’s something he can do right here at home to make things better. Order the longshoremen to return to full work capacity; no more excuses, no more slowdowns, no more extortion. That is sabotage, it should be considered sedition and treason. . And if they refuse to comply, disband their union and bring in the California National Guard to get the job done until replacement workers can be found.

These are extreme times, times of war; this action would be in the nations best interest, and is a reasonable solution to counter the unpatriotic position of a very small and unreasonable group of American workers. I am not anti-union…I am pro-American.

Thoughts?

10/15/02

On the morning of Friday, November 10th, I walked from the Greyhound Bus Terminal down to the Capitol, then past the Washington Monument and eventually reached the Mall (perhaps some 50 blocks or so). I was here 25 years ago for the dedication and have returned today for a very special tribute.

Even before I see the Vietnam Veterans Memorial I’m able to hear voices in the distance, their tone solemn and ritualistic. I arrive and am directed to yellow-jacketed marshals and express to them the following: I’d been an Army Advisor in Vietnam. I’d been unable to commit to any specific time in their program. I was content simply to be present, to bear witness…and if the opportunity existed for me to participate, I would be honored to do so.

They were gracious and suggested that I stand by. The day was overcast, chilly and rainy, a typical late autumnal DC afternoon. The attendance was relatively sparse… but the reading of names was ongoing. I had a sense that those of us here came for reasons perhaps difficult for some to articulate …but none of us would be deterred by mere weather.

The Reading of Names had begun on Wednesday at noon and had continued from 5AM to 1AM each following day. (“From can’t see at mornin’ til can’t see at night”.) It is now Friday, about 12:30, the time frame, mid 1968. Describing the task is simple: Each volunteer reads a page of 30 names, each inscribed on The Wall, the names of men (and infrequently, women) that’d died in Vietnam. It is chronological. Readers had reserved (some weeks and months ahead) the opportunity to read a page that included the name of someone personally meaningful to them.

Tho I was there for only for a few hours on a single day, I watched fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, wives, grandchildren, commanders and soldiers stand before that microphone, wanting to bear witness. Each voice, whether husky, choked with emotion, halting, or declamatory seems committed to the premise that every name (as well as the name to which they have a personal connection), that every name matters. That person is missed, it is a loss both personal and heartfelt…and that the simple act of stating their name, out loud, has meaning and significance. It is a very human ritual, ancient, fundamental, healing.

You needed to be there to appreciate the impact of this simple act. It continued, unabated, seemingly unending, thru time and weather and light and dark, for many days. Eventually I was assigned a page, mounted the stage and stood in line. As I waited I made certain that I was comfortable with the pronunciation of each name. My turn came, I approached the mike and began to read. I felt many things –proud that I could be a part of this ritual, moved by knowing how much extended family was represented by each name…I felt a sense of responsibility and awe and service. My list ended and I walked from the podium, feeling as I do after rising from the communion rail. At peace.

Our deaths in Vietnam numbered fewer than 60,000, many more than 9/11, many less than WW II. Yet to hear the unrelenting recitation of their names lends humanity to a cold statistic. I was approached and again assigned a page but the scheduled reader then appeared. The staffers were apologetic and I reassured them, it was not a problem. I had come to support. It would have been nice to have read the name of someone with whom I served or trained, but no matter. I was content to bear witness, to hear the names read, confident that each name, each represented life, was being acknowledged and accorded the honor it deserved.

As I waited, I spoke for a few minutes with a tall woman who’d introduced herself to me. Janis was now a member of the Memorial Commission’s Board of Directors, but back in the day had been an Army nurse at Cam Ranh Bay. I shared with her memories of my nurse at 3rd Field Hospital. Janis immediately understood how much having finally found my nurse last year and being able to thank her, meant to me. She later introduced me to Jan Scruggs, the Vietnam veteran primarily responsible for the creation of The Wall. I thanked him for having given to us all this place of healing. The Wall is where we give ourselves permission to fully connect with our feelings, without shame or reservation or judgment. It is to us a sacred place.

After a few hours, I said my goodbyes, visited a tent to receive a program and memento of my participation and began my walk to the Metro.

(It’s now Monday, midday. I’ve just returned to my home in LA. I turn on my TV, which is tuned to CNN. They are re-airing the speech delivered yesterday by Gen. Colin Powell, commemorating the 25th anniversary of The Vietnam Veterans Memorial. The Wall. And then I notice standing just behind and to his left, a tall blonde woman. It is Lt Col. Janis Nark USAR (Ret).