These bastards have refocused us - this is what we are fighting. This is why we need to stay and win in Iraq, even through periods of intense doubt. The Commissar asks legitimate questions about timetables, effective force structure, measurable progress; the Washington Post quotes generals voicing concern about strategic failure; fine, these questions of course need answers. But if it takes two years or ten years, tactical withdrawals followed by messy re-engagements, $100 billion or $100 trillion, this problem, this cancer of Muslim extremism is not going to go away. It flourishes in medieval, closed societies, and our only strategic hope to weaken it is to invest in the success and democratization of the rest of the world. If we fail, we fail trying, we fail making mistakes and correcting them, because defensive isolationism and/or tactical application of military force are one-way tickets to destruction. Highly imperfect as it is, our present, starry-eyed course as charted by the current administration is the only available path that even attempts to adequately answer this challenge.

Study history with any intensity and a constant theme will arise over and over and over: stronger societies that unhesitatingly apply their strength win. That's why the mid-term survival of the United States is dependent upon pressing our advantage and changing the world while we still have overwhelming economic and military dominance, which takes more than a few years' patience. This paradigm will shift drastically within this century, perhaps within a generation or two, as innovation lowers the boundaries to terribly destructive technology. At that point, it's likely that the world may be doomed anyway, but literally our only hope may be the previously forced evolution of most corners of the earth towards pluralistic, democratic societies that will naturally marginalize extreme elements.

If you were horrified by what that small group of men did with a knife and a video camera, ponder what they yearn to do with highly efficient chemical agents, nuclear material or future nanotechnology. There is no exit strategy in Iraq, merely victory or defeat in the first or second round of a lifelong, messy epic battle - civilization vs. those that wish to destroy it. It's going to be ugly, it's going to involve defeats and it will not be politically expedient. Pick sides and fight, feel free to examine and question tactics, but don't for a second think that ignoring the war or withdrawing from individual battles will make its consequences disappear. Our political leadership needs to refocus the American electorate on the gravity of this struggle and the sacrifice that it demands, for the only thing that can defeat us at this stage of the game is flagging political will.

We're in it to win it. Suck it up, people.

Revolutionary crickets chirping.

... revolutionaries are notoriously unreliable. I asked the proprietors where the "Prisons, Police & Repression" teach-in was, and I was told that the group is rather haphazard about how they maintain their schedule. Two things immediately disturbed me:

1. How will the people throw off the fascist chains of the man's oppression when they can't even keep regularly scheduled meetings?

2. The coffee that they served me tasted remarkably like piss.

I decided to pack it in and head for the memorial.

Tracing the name of a fallen officer.

The Memorial is a beautiful oval shaped space with long, curved walls that bear the engraved names of officers killed in the line of duty.

The typically spartan stone was festooned with wreaths, pictures, poems, letters ...

... and newspaper clippings.

An impromptu tribute.

This is my father's New Jersey State Police Academy classmate, Werner Foerster. On May 2, 1973, he and his partner, Trooper James Harper, pulled over a car containing three individuals: Sundiata Acoli, aka Clark Edward Squire, Zayd Malik Shakur and ...

... Assata Shakur, aka JoAnne Chesimard, all members of an ultra-violent Black Panther splinter group called the Black Liberation Army, "whose stated goal was to take up arms for the liberation and self-determination of black people in the United States."
The BLA was responsible for the murders of more than 10 police officers around the country, and these three were wanted for questioning regarding the deaths of two police officers in New York; one white, one black.

As Harper questioned the car's passengers and Forrester provided back-up, the three BLA members opened fire on the troopers with hand-guns. Harper was shot in the shoulder and managed to escape down an embankment. Forrester was struck twice in the chest. As he lay on the ground bleeding and helpless, Shakur/Chesimard took his service revolver and shot him twice in the head. The cop-killers briefly escaped, but were quickly hunted down by police. In an exchange of gunfire Zayd Malik Shakur was killed and Chesimard and Squire were wounded and captured.

After their capture, my father was part of the team assigned to guard the severely wounded Chesimard in the hospital. As the troopers stood outside of her room, she incessantly chanted, "If I had some poison gas, I'd throw it on your white ass."

Both were tried and sentenced to life in prison. During the trial, both defendants were highly disruptive and violent. Eventually the judge had them placed in a separate sound-proof booth that suppressed their chants and allowed them to hear and see the courtroom through a plastic window. During the proceedings, the two defendants laid on the ground of the booth and had sex in the midst of the courtroom. Chesimard became pregnant and had a daughter before being transferred to the Edna Mahan Correctional Facility for Women, where on November 2, 1979, she was sprung from the prison by four visitors that took a guard and a driver hostage. Despite an intense manhunt, she remained on the lamb in the US until 1986, when she made her way to Cuba and was granted political asylum. Today she walks free as a professor, counter-cultural heroine and published author, reviewed by the NY Times: "A deftly written book... a spellbinding tale." Incidentally, her stature has also been augmented by virtue of being the aunt of the late rapper, Tupac Shakur.

In 1998, Congress voted for a resolution to ask for Shakur's extradition. The site Afro Cuba Web stated:

"The Congressional Black Caucus was asleep at the switch on this one, with 23 members voting against Assata and 13 not voting, which is hardly different. Maxine Waters voted against, but then said she did not know who Joanne Chesimard (Assata's pre-Panther name) was."

When Congresswoman Waters figured out that Chesimard was Shakur, she filed a protest against her original vote and wrote an apologetic letter of clarification to Fidel Castro.

I find it beyond disturbing that clear, cold-blooded murder is regarded as a political or racial issue.

Sundiata Acoli, aka Clark Edward Squire, remains in prison, though he is a cause celebre of the "Free Mumia" folks, which have made recent attempts to assist him in securing parole. A counter-effort, spearheaded by the victim's family, police associations, popular magazines and bloggers are pushing to keep him in jail. From what I can gather, in this case, justice is likely to prevail - Acoli was denied Federal parole and will probably be denied state parole (due to their refusal to grant him an in-person hearing), though a final decision is still pending ...

Justice or no justice, the cops that these people murdered are still dead; their names are engraved on the walls of the memorial.

The most remarkable features of the memorial are the fantastic statues of protective lions that mark its four corners.

Playin' in the sun.

Something that struck me about the police officers that were gathered for the ceremony was their incredible diversity: women, blacks, whites, hispanics ...

... and even men wearing dresses.

The ceremony began as the wreath was brought forward.

The colors were presented ...

... the wreath was laid at the center of the memorial ...

... and a police chaplain led the crowd in a prayer for the dead.

The wreath was then flanked by a rotating honor guard.

It was a touching tribute, capped by ...

"Amazing Grace."

Some facts about the hazards of police work (via NLEOMF):

* More than 14,250 law enforcement officers have been killed in the line of duty in the 20th Century.

* The deadliest decade ever for law enforcement was the 1970's, when an average of 222 officers made the ultimate sacrifice each year, including a record 271 officers killed in 1974.

* The average age of the officers killed last century was 38 and the average length of service was about eight years.

* Shootings accounted for about half of all police fatalities during the past century.

* Approximately 500 officers were killed in multiple police death incidents.

* With 50 police deaths, September 11, 2001 was the deadliest day in law enforcement history.

UPDATE: Urban Farmhouse has a post featuring some other permanent memorials.

UPDATE: Want to read more on domestic terrorism lionized as brave rebellion? Need a blood pressure spike? Go here.

GR: Good points, all.

INDC: … yes, well, when you first started blogging, did you ever imagine that Instapundit.com would get this big?

GR: Nope.

INDC: So, what, you were doing it as more of a hobby or an experiment? You were actually surprised by the speed at which you achieved your current popularity?

GR: Yes.

INDC: Okay … well, you often write about how blogging and other new media vehicles are revolutionizing the traditional media environment and changing the way that news is disseminated; do you think that this trend will lead to a situation where blogs may eventually eclipse or even replace traditional media?

GR: Hmm. You’d think.

INDC: Uh, care to elaborate on that?

GR: More thoughts on that at Glennreynolds.com.

INDC: Uh, yes … I’m sure that there are, but since we’re here and all … do you have any current thoughts on the matter?

GR: I guess.

INDC: And, those would be …

GR: Heh.

INDC: Um … … forgive me if I’m not making much sense here, this is my first interview, and I’m a little nervous. In no way do I intend any ... disrespect, but the interview might be a bit more informative if you could, uh, expand on some of your answers.

GR: So noted.

INDC: Ok, well, back to my initial question then - do you have any additional thoughts about the blogosphere’s role in the future media environment?

GR: But of course. More on that here.

INDC: Yes, yes, I see your laptop … um, but can you tell them to me?

GR: Update: more here ...

INDC: What the hell is your ...

GR: ... and here ...

INDC: Alright then ...

GR: ... and here.

INDC: ... let’s ... let's just skip ahead and try something a little different. I had thought it might be fun to liven up the interview with a little pop psychology.

GR: Yes, let's!

INDC: Ok, why don't you take a look at this inkblot and tell me what you see:

GR: Nanobots.

INDC: Ok, and this?

GR: It's not work safe.

INDC: Uh huh ... and this?

GR: Prison rape.

INDC: And ... here?

GR: Mazda RX-8.

INDC: How about this?

GR: Lileks.

INDC: Lileks? No shit, huh? Ok. Well that was somewhat more revealing than your previous answers, but let's go back and try some regular questions again, shall we? I'll try one more time: the future of the blogosphere - where are we headed?

GR: Yet another update: more on that here.

INDC: Yes, yes, yes! I skimmed that article by Bill Quick like two years ago! What are your ...

GR: Read the whole thing.

INDC: Dammit! What are your thoughts? What do you think? Do you have any opinions of your own? Can you form compound-complex sentences? Jesus, you are really starting to piss me off, Reynolds!

GR: That's too bad.

INDC: Are you making fun of me? Is this ...

GR: I agree.

INDC: Is this a fucking joke to you? You think INDC Journal is just a fucking joke?!

GR: Not ready for prime time, if you ask me.

INDC: Not ready for prime time? Not ready for prime time?! Fine, fine! Screw this interview, and screw you, buddy! You can take your "more here's" and your "heh's" and your "Lileks's" and you can stick 'em where the sun don't shine! You hear me? I take funny pictures and crack jokes about moonbats, ok? And people like it, so you can just piss right off!

GR: I'd like to say that I'm shocked by this, but, well, I'm not.

INDC: I'm out of here!

GR: You'd think.

INDC: Kiss my ass Reynolds!

GR: Heh.

FIN

NOTE: For the humor-impaired, or those simply not familiar with Professor Reynolds or INDC, this interview was not real.

The speeches contained the typical hyperbolic rhetoric, marshalling this crowd of hundreds of thousands to fight the depredations of the "anti-woman" Bush agenda. They singled out administration members by name: Ashcroft, Cheney, and Rumsfeld (Rumsfeld?!), a list capped in one speech by a patronizing, heartfelt appeal to the honorable Colin Powell to forsake his distasteful service amongst the enemy and return to the fold.

One harangue in particular caught my attention, delivered by a fiery, square-built woman with close-cropped blonde hair. It was a screaming, apoplectic treatise on the virtues of "cunt power," that demanded that the nation bow to the authority of the "cunt" and pledge allegiance to the the United "Cunts" of America. "My Cunt 'Tis of Thee," etc., etc. (find that coverage in the WaPo)

At this point, I became a bit disturbed, for the crowd wasn't awkwardly tolerating this obscene and immature rant, rather raising their arms and screaming throaty acceptance of a woman performing second rate porno-schlock, ostensibly as a legitimate representative of one side of a highly divisive and important public issue.

I consider myself pro-choice, but this wasn't my crowd, and these orators didn't speak for me. I moved into the mass of people to get a closer look.

A common theme.

The abortion issue has become a proxy for the religious and cultural wars. I can understand the pro-choice activists; extreme religion has played a major role in fueling the most intolerant ideologies of the pro-life movement, but I also wondered what additional bad experiences with religious figures may have driven so many to such a vehement disavowal of the church. I'd venture a guess that in many cases, this dislike goes far beyond this single issue.

Another common theme.

Ringing throughout the grounds:

Hey Hey
Ho Ho
George Bush Has Got To Go!

Hey Hey
Ho Ho
George Bush Has Got To Go!

Impeach Bush!

Bush Keep Your Hands Off My Bush!

I couldn't glance in any direction without glimpsing some totem or sign that expressed rather strong feelings against:

A. Religion

C. Some combination of the two.

The thematic battle lines of this march were drawn: George Bush is the enemy, and if you are pro-choice you must support his downfall.

Hard statistics on the percentage of pro-choice Republicans are difficult to nail down, but two-thirds of all Americans believe that abortion should be legal within the first trimester, and seven-in-ten Americans oppose abortion after the sixth month of pregnancy. This indicates a great deal of mainstream party overlap that generally supports the abortion environment as it currently stands under the stated policy of the Bush Administration. By exaggerating the current state of affairs, the speakers largely undermined their case for how quickly reproductive rights would dissolve under a second Bush term.

In addition, a significant portion of pro-choice supporters are Libertarian/Republican voters that won't be easily swayed into the warm embrace of Bush-hate. I couldn't help but think that this narrow and all-encompassing line of political reasoning weakened the hand of the pro-choice movement rather than strengthening it. The rhetoric certainly alienated me.

There were quite a few activist physicians handing out literature.

A sampling of a much larger group of "Medical Students for Choice."

The New York Times crossword puzzle?

Don't get me wrong - there inevitably were many moderate voices within this massive march; but I was a bit surprised by the casual vehemence and hyperbole of anti-Bush sentiment from most of the crowd. The great national divide was on stark display at this rally.

The last huge wave of the crowd prepared to embark on the march route.

I made my way closer to the East stage ...

... and ran into another very narrow special interest group.

"G-d is Coming and she is Fat"

Who knew?

I watched the tail-end of the crowd leave the Mall, on their way to the White House and Pennsylvania Avenue.

Cutting across 8th Street towards Penn, I ran into a second group of pro-life counter-protestors. This group had a softer approach, forsaking the bloody signs and screaming rhetoric for a more palatable appeal.

This small group of about 50 protestors seemed to represent a calmer face of the pro-life side of the protest.

Ruh-roh ...

Drawing up on Penn, I immediately realized that this would be a flash point. These Episcopal priests stood in a silent line along the packed four-lane route of the march.

For the most part, the priests prayed or calmly attempted to speak to protestors that drew near enough to engage them. I had little idea how badly many in the crowd would react to the mere sight of the religious garb.

Ok, maybe not all religious garb ...

Mere seconds passed before I witnessed the first bout of rage. Thousands upon thousands of people walked by, and I would say that perhaps a fifth of the individuals within sight and shouting distance had a highly aggressive reaction to the presence the priests. They yelled, spit and uttered shocking profanities. A smattering of the worst:

"Fuck you!"

"You want to kill women? Fuck you!"

Etc. And on ...

... and on ...

... and on ...

... and on ...

... and on ...

... and on ...

... and on ...

... and on ...

.. and on ...

... and on.

(Note: the previous specific quotes cannot be directly attributed to the individuals pictured above - except perhaps the woman mouthing the word "fuck")

It was simply stunning. The second these people (and thousands of others not caught on film) saw the priests, they simply lost their minds. It was like watching a live-action scene from the Exorcist, repeated ad infinitum. No exaggeration, no joke.

This was a fine example of hateful mob mentality. The belligerents that screamed the most vile profanities were egged on by the people that they were with, which made for a nice collusion of nasty emotions: violent anger and malicious, hysterical laughter. About 4/5 or more of the protestors had little reaction to either the priests or their more aggressive fellow marchers, but 20% of thousands of marchers is ... a lot of angry, insane people.

This shot was snapped about a second after the priests and a cop were hit with a spray of red liquid. I was genuinely surprised that the officer didn't hop the fence and introduce the culprit to "Mr. Baton."

A special highlight: these moonbats reacted with absolute rapture at the chance to put on a dramatic, "sinful" show for the priests.

After only about 45 minutes of watching all this, I became a bit shell-shocked and decided to call it a day. Before I left, I spoke to a pro-lifer that was quietly standing near the priests and displaying one of the happy-face "I'm Pro-Life" signs.

"Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Sure."

"You're pro-life. Does that mean that you are against abortion in any circumstance? At any period?"

"Yes."

"Even in cases of rape or incest?"

"Yes, in all cases."

"What are your feelings about birth control?"

"We're against it. Abstinence is the only acceptable form of birth control."

"Well ... I see. Don't you think that complete abstinence is a bit unrealistic for everyone?"

"Anything less is a sin ..."

Without much common ground to be had, I decided to pack it in ...

... but not before running into this little guy on my way out. The way his mother coaxed him to say "abort Bush" and pose for my camera made me ill.

I didn't want to deal with this anymore. I ducked away from the path of the march and took an alternate, circuitous route home.

Postscript: I don't think that the most vitriolic scenes that I witnessed that Sunday were in any way representative of mainstream opinion on either side of the debate. Upon reflection, it was typical mob behavior, as the most ignorant and nasty elements of the crowd fed off of the general mass of chattering, negative energy and lashed out at their opponents. Whether it's a gathering of 50 or 500,000, the trend is clear: nuts always come out to protest.

I guess it's just a little depressing when you witness how many nuts there really are ...

In the final installment of INDC abortion blogging, I'll take a crack at alienating all of my readers by looking at both sides of this issue ... and offering an opinion. Stay tuned.

After I calmed down from the excitement of spotting the young Desmodus lunarius nihilista, I began to hear something that resembled music ... acoustic guitar, yes, it was a Macroglossius lunarius commonus folk dancing ritual, about to take place before my very eyes! Let's have a listen:

Surrounded by an army
There for their defense
Armed with APC's and copters
And lots of common sense

Behind a fence
Behind a wall
That shout just shall not pass
Broken shells, plastic bullets
And a thousand gallons of tear gas!

(Guitar solo)

World leaders kept on talkin’
Behind the moat up on the hill
And they boasted of prosperity
And their elitist free trade bill.

They defended their positions
And the glory of their claaaaaasssss
With broken skulls, plastic bullets
And a thousand gallons of tear gaaaaaaas!

Struck by the catchy nature of the tune, and filled with a sudden and powerful urge to dance, I hastily decided that it was time to move on.

A common misperception about moonbats is the belief that they are godless creatures. As is evidenced by these intricately crafted paper mache totems, that is not necessarily the case. The blue fellow on the left is the one called Naed Drawoh, the "Destroyer," or "Devourer of Worlds," considered the patriarch of the New Gods by various moonbat species. The lady in green is Y'Rallih, the "Matron Goddess of the Village."

According to legend, Naed Drawoh defied the higher pantheon of Old Gods in a brave bid to save humankind from the yoke of eternal servitude. In a last desperate battle he uttered a final ear-splitting war cry and promised to lead the faithful to victory across the land, but in the end was betrayed and cast out of the higher planes by the Ancient Ones. Moonbats believe that he bides his time until Ragnarok, or the "final reckoning," when the faithful will be called to revolution on the middle plane of Earth.

Y'Rallih is a much more complex figure. Often called the "Cunning One," or "She of Thick Ankles," she is feared as well as respected. It is believed that she bides her time among the Ancient Gods, waiting for her opportune moment to seize ultimate power. Moonbats have a love-hate relationship with Y'Rallih, but they generally assume to unite behind her once she ushers in the period of Nochtenveer, or "the thousand years of darkness."

While not necessary in the context of the current, massive swarm, when searching for more isolated gatherings of moonbats, it's helpful to remember that they are typically drawn towards stagnant pools of filthy water.

Ah, here we see a local District favorite, a pack of migrating Western Warblar Moonbats practicing the art of Luna-Kuchipodi, or traditional rhythmic dance. I've tagged this pack before, and each has a name and ID transmitter that enables us to keep track of their health status and whereabouts. They look strapping and beautiful!

Let's listen in on their chant:

Side-step
Booty-shake
Clap! Clap!
(Whipping noise/motion)

Side-step
Booty-shake
Clap! Clap!

Our weapon of choice is not a gun
Our words are power
And toys are fun
Use your hands for somethin' better
Everyone get off together!

The pack then moaned and groaned loudly, dissolved into a seething pile and engaged in simulated sex acts. Amazing.

Macroglossius lunarius narisplanus boarerus in full-throated yowl.

Here we have a great shot of CheeChi, perhaps one of the most beautiful and interesting specimens I've discovered to date. CheeChi is remarkable because he isn't actually a Western Warbler, rather a Flat-billed Howler Moonbat that was crippled and orphaned by trigger-happy game wardens in Seattle and taken in by the group. This welcoming behavior really speaks volumes about the open and familial nature of these highly gregarious creatures. CheeChi hoarsely sings several octaves lower than his compatriots, and dances with a limp, but they gladly accept him as one of their own.

Here we have a great sequence of our girl Luna, performing a ritual attack simulation. If she was legitimately threatened and performing the strike in earnest, it would be accompanied by a howling shriek and the simultaneous discharge of various bodily fluids.

Here we have DeeDee on the left and Pinky on the right. Mistaking me for one of her own, Pinky is giving me her best "come hither" mating stare, while DeeDee blindly sways on. DeeDee suffers from a condition called Chiba Retinopathy, a highly common moonbat disease acquired from exposure to caustic fumes from something called the "sticky-icky." Repeated smoke exposure dries and kills the blood vessels in the eyes, and the the body compensates by overgrowing back a mass of new blood vessels that serve to cloud and dim the moonbat's vision and render them highly sensitive to light. Fortunately, the communal nature of the warblers guarantees this girl's continued survival.

Here we catch two Macroglossius lunarius gothikas indulging in a bit of the aforementioned "sticky-icky." The dazed yet friendly look in this boy's eyes indicates that he has also probably gone "wet" in an attempt to embark on a "dream quest." Good luck, little fellow.

Another District regular that INDC readers will recognize ...

This is where the expertise of a professional becomes essential, as we spot several full-grown specimens of Desmodus lunarius nihilista arboles, or the Dreaded Killer Anarchist Tree-bat. A close relative of its ground-dwelling cousin, it is imperative that one stays far away from these aggressive beasts. Unwary humans and benign moonbats step under their perch at great peril, as the the Tree-bat is known to toss feces, firebombs, or just leap downwards and pounce on its prey. Highly dangerous, highly unpredictable, stay away!

Here we see a full-grown example of the ground-dwelling Desmodus lunarius nihilista. This tragedy was not caught on film, but immediately after this picture was taken, the young buck turned and charged my position, and I was forced to dispatch him with several well-placed Hydro Shock rounds. Tragic, but a necessary risk to entertain when attempting close interaction with these wild and unpredictable creatures.

Herding game wardens keep their mounts some distance from the swarm, as the horses are known to stampede when exposed to the overwhelming scent of patchouli, and some moonbat species are spooked by close proximity to the four-legged beasts.

The migration begins! Horns blaring, beating drums and throaty shouts marked the call to march!

I inserted myself amongst the masses to get the best possible shots. Their twittering excitement was palpable!

There are at least eight species of moonbats in this frame alone. Can you identify them?

This fellow got a bit nervous as he spied me mixing with the swarm, but took no aggressive action.

Some Ancient Mini's proudly declared their allegiances and tried to keep pace with the younger members of the swarm. Unfortunately, mere minutes after this picture was taken, the Minis were trampled to death and partially eaten by a pack of rampaging nihilstas. In the midst of this sad yet natural event, I could hear the minis shouting. "Kofi, help us! Heeeeelp us!"

A beautiful specimen of Macroglossius lunarius afrikanusbadcreditus.

I followed the swarm through the canyons of glass, and to my surprise, there were no mass disruptions or serious attacks carried out by the more aggressive species. Other than a few random aggressors that needed to be captured or put-down, it seems that the pre-installed cages and heavily-armed game wardens enabled this to be a safe, healthy season.

Game wardens tag a nihilista. (Courtesy of Severnriver)

Several of the moonbats began to get a little nervous as they massed near the IMF, and not wanting to push my luck, I decided to call it a day. We'd seen a fantastic variety of species, witnessed various religious and social rituals and iconography, had a rare sighting of an immature nihilista and only had to dispatch one rabid adult. All-in-all, a fascinating and successful expedition.

I hope you've enjoyed INDC's coverage!

For the curious, a few moonbat FAQ's can be found here. Further inquiries are more than welcome.

And if you've missed our previous efforts, be sure and take a moment to peruse some past INDC coverage:

INDC Science Series: Seasonal Moonbat IMF Migration, Part One

INDC Rally: Into the Gates of Mordor and John Kerry's Pro-Choice Party

INDC Protests: Moonbattery and Media Chicanery Outside the Supreme Court

INDC Protests: International Answer Protests in DC

INDC Protests: ANSWER, MASSF and Jews United Against Zionism

Wardens Baker and Poncherello reflect on a job well done!

On the way to the march, I ran into these children, posed on the corner of L & 15th. Their signs convey the message of "women's rights," certainly a "soft sell" approach, but I couldn't help but feel that twinge of discomfort that I get whenever I see children carefully posed for political purposes. More of this later.

On the way to the march, some Protest Warrior affiliates were out and about in an attempt to make a point about the war on terror. Protest Warrior has no official position on abortion, but these guys wanted to offer a counter to the virulent Bush-hatred that marks most of the pro-choice movement.

Unfortunately, the admittedly off-topic and somewhat confusing message was lost on most of the pro-choice marchers, who either ignored them, looked bewildered or just pointed and giggled.

"President Bush: Please Don't Touch the Vagina."

This was a common theme. By the end of the day, I was going to get more than my fill of "tee-hee I'm naughty, yet clever" slogans and catchphrases.

Here I ran into the first group of pro-life protestors at Constitution Avenue on the cusp of the National Mall. They were largely affiliated with church groups, and I couldn't help but notice that the youngsters had appropriated a bit of the punk rock/Che Guevera "protestor chic" commonly associated with "progressives." I gather that Jesus is down with the kids these days. Notice the dissonant, awkward appeal to the assumed "vegan/vegetarian" sensibilities of the pro-choicers.

The first heated emotions of the day.

The pro-choice woman on the right engaged the woman on the left in calm tones (I could not distinguish what she was saying), and the woman on the left quickly became very animated, shouting about the annual massacre of thousands of babies. Eventually, the woman on the right disengaged and walked away. I doubt that she changed her mind about anything ... except perhaps the wisdom of debating with extreme activists.

Upon encountering the pro-life counter-protestors, the look on these pro-choice marchers' faces was typical; I read it as slightly uncomfortable bemusement. For some reason, almost no emotions on either "side" that I witnessed during the course of the day seemed quite ... "right."

This woman later gave a tearful speech about how she had been traumatized by an abortion that took place in her youth.

The "hard sell" rhetoric amplified by a bullhorn. Common themes:

* Abortion is murder.

* Religion forbids abortion.

* Abortion is harmful to the health of women.

* Abortion denies the choice of the child.

The "hard sellers" display the graphic signs depicting the effects of late term abortions.

Pro-choice, pro-life - Bush still can't get a break. These attempts to appeal to "progressive" positions assumed to be held by "the other side" seemed pointless and awkward to me. It's doubtful that a pro-choice advocate that you call a "murderer" is going to re-evaluate their position on abortion based on other common ground, even if they happen to belong to Peta, ANSWER and the NAACP.

This group of pro-lifers eventually gathered and kneeled in the middle of the intersection. Notice the Spanish signs and the bandanas, typically the flair of romanticized anarchists and revolutionaries.

The cops immediately formed a protective line between the pro-lifers and the marchers passing by on their way to the Mall.

I would not mess with this man ...

The pro-lifers organize ...

... and drop "dead" ...

... while others outline them in chalk ...

... and scrawl messages on the street.

The police issue their first dispersal warning to the illegally assembled protesters. The pro-life organizer checked his watch and then advised his group that this was only the "first warning" and that they had 15 minutes until the second admonition.

Now this is how you fake death, while somehow ...

"Ohmigawd, Becky, I am SO dead!"

... cellphone use dilutes the impact.

This gentleman seemed very intent.

Patriarchal symbol of oppression?

Eventually I left the pro-life protestors in order to join the rally on the National Mall, largely held in between the Washington Monument and the Capitol.

As I got close to the rally, it became apparent that this wasn't going to be similar to previous rallies that consisted of 30 Communists ranting across from the White House, or an intermediate gathering of moonbats in a park; this was a huge, mainstream issue.

At the top of the rally, individuals gathered to head the scheduled march.

Some "honored guests."

I failed to catch any of the celebrity marchers that were highlighted in the news.

An elderly participant.

Here I stumbled across a very narrow special interest group.

A common sentiment.

I engaged these two gentleman in conversation, asking them why they focused on the anti-Bush rhetoric (previous pic). They responded with a recitation of a litany of things that they felt were wrong with the Bush administration, largely issues unrelated to abortion. I then told them that I'll be voting for Bush in November, but that I am also pro-choice, and that I have issues with the broader anti-Bush focus voiced by many of those that I may agree with on abortion. The individual on the right responded that protestors often view gatherings of such magnitude as an opportunity to give voice to other issues that have less organization and public traction. I was surprised by the fact that he quite lucidly and rationally admitted this sentiment.

These protestors equating queer rights with abortion rights were blocking some of the more graphic pro-life signs. I asked these ladies a few questions:

Me: "Hey, mind if I ask you something? Now I'm not breaking your chops here, but I'm genuinely curious as to how "reproductive rights" are "queer rights," given the non-procreative nature of gay sex. Can you explain it to me?"

Lesbian-gal #1: Well, you see, it's ... like ... it's ... (calls to her friend) ... hey can you answer this guy's question as to why reproductive rights are queer rights?"

Lesbian-gal #2: "Oh, ok ... well the rights of women to have an abortion and the rights of gays and minorities are the same because we are all oppressed peoples ... as a lesbian woman, my struggle is their struggle."

Me: "Oh ... so, and I'm just legitimately asking here, you have common ground because all women, minorities and gays are oppressed? Out of curiosity, can straight white men ever be oppressed?"

Lesbian-gal #2: "Sure ... sure they can be ..."

Me: "They're just not chronically oppressed, oppressed by nature ... ok, I get it. Now another question: why are you blocking this guy's sign?"

Lesbian-gal #2: "Because it's sick. It's gross."

Me: "Definitely, yeah, but that's his view. I mean, that's what he's trying to make you consider."

Lesbian-gal #2: " Well, we don't carry around pictures of abortion providers that were murdered by pro-life people."

Me: "Ok, point taken. Thanks for answering my questions."

A few minutes later, the blockers left and the sign was unveiled. I'm not certain about the effectiveness of the extreme imagery. It makes a strong case against late-term abortion, but that impact seems dwarfed by the fact that the graphic image largely alienates people from really considering the message. It's difficult for me to look at; most of the marchers seemed to immediately block it out and ignore it after being repulsed.

I left the front of the march gathering point, and headed over to the main rally grounds on the Mall ...

In tomorrow's installment, I'll wade into the crowd and take the pulse of the pro-choice movement, as well as observe some of the more extreme emotions voiced by march participants.

Part Two can be found here.

I questioned these veteran game wardens about the present location of the Chiroptera and the likely route of their migration. I was kindly directed to Franklin Square Park and told that I was now standing within the carefully controlled path that the swarm would likely take.

The gentleman on the right measured his words with the following warning, however: "They're anarchists, so we don't always know where the Hell they're gonna wind up ..."

Point taken, my good fellow, point taken.

I could barely contain my glee as I drew upon the swarm. This was no minor gathering of a select few common moonbats, rather a cornucopia of various genera, species and subspecies. I had struck scientific gold, and was assaulted by a whirling mix of color ...

... sound ...

... and smell, as I plunged head-first into their midst!

How many symbols of revolution can you spot?

Immediately I was presented with a fascinating mix of moonbat behavior and iconography. To the layman, these symbols might represent a confusing jumble of ideologies, but upon close examination, they are united by a common theme: what they are against. This universal thread unites the incredibly diverse species of moonbats in a common, homogenous bid to be completely different.

Here a "Common" or "Long-tongued Moonbat" (Macroglossius lunarius commonus) views me with suspicion as I record her stunning body iconography. This may seem dangerous, but the ordinary species of moonbat is actually quite docile and tolerant of the presence of interloping species.

Here we see a perfect representation of the common moonbat, typefied by hipster narrow-cut jeans, athletic yet stylish footwear and carefully mussed body hair and grooming. These look to be young males of the species, probably somewhere around 21 or 22 years-old, in their prime mating years. Quite domestic and quite harmless, these common moonbats are typically found in coffee shops and student unions across the continental United States. Moving on ...

Here we have two fantastic examples of Macroglossius lunarius fligerius, or Long-tongued Banger Moonbats, famous for their fascinatingly complex percussive compositions. Typically harmless, typically vegetarian, this species is noted for its acute sense of smell, which requires the bangers to wear kerchiefs in a bid to tolerate the pungent scent of teen spirit that hangs in the air like a fine mist at such gatherings.

As I observed the bangers, I spied my esteemed colleague, Dr. Werner VanSchtrudenbacher, a legend in the field! Here he gathers recordings for his current project, an album layering sounds of the banger moonbats over popular music tracks. Here are two of his recent album covers:

(Albums courtesy of the Llama Butchers)

Dr. VanSchtrudenbacher made his initial mark by winning the National Science Medal for his work on moonbat psychology, specifically charting the structure of the moonbat brain. In a landmark experiment, VanSchtrudenbacher locked 10 common moonbats in a windowless room with some cheese, for three weeks. Over the course of the experiment, nine of the ten moonbats died after refusing to eat the cheese, which they claimed was an oppressive symbol of the pasteurization of America by insidious corporate influences. The tenth moonbat barely survived his time in captivity by carefully rationing and drinking his own urine.

This study led to the current focus on "moonbat neo-cortex dominance," a theory that focuses on the possibilty that moonbats have an unbalanced affinity for complex symbols and characterizations, and an underdeveloped amygdala, resulting in a poor survival instinct. Fascinating work!

Macroglossius lunarius antigeriocolorarius.

Here we see a close relative of the Banger Bats, the Technicolor Hippie Moonbats. Quite friendly, quite spirited, really just joyous creatures of the woods. That's a girl, don't be shy! She's a brassy beauty!

Here I snapped a rare picture of a closely guarded moonbat ritual, "the dream quest," aka "dropping paper" or "magic tabs." What the moonbats do is typically ingest two to four small plastic or paper squares that are drenched in a substance called lysergic acid diethylamide. Within 30 minutes, the moonbat begins giggling and experiencing vivid hallucinations, which are reputed to give them an expanded political consciousness. This is a very rare and precious glimpse at what is usually a much more surreptitously executed ritual ingestion.

Here we confront our first legitimately dangerous species of moonbat, the Latin-American Revolutionary Moonbat, or Desmodus lunarius checommunista. This is a highly volatile and aggressive species, and it is important to distinguish this fellow from his more benign cousin, the Macroglossius lunarius kerrysocialista. It's helpful to remember this little ditty:

Flag of red,
Filled with dread -
Hammer and sickle,
Don't be fickle,
Run, bitch, run!

The diversity of fauna was startling. Here we have a relatively rare sighting of an ancient miniature moonbat ...

... followed by an unbelievably rare sighting of a young Desmodus lunarius nihilista, or Killer Anarchist Moonbat. This picture is startling for two reasons:

1. The young Anarchist is being supervised by an adult of the species. Such structured mothering is aberrant and highly unusual behavior.

2. The survival rate of young nihilist moonbats is extremely low - mostly due to their oft-unsupervised tendency to play in traffic, run with scissors, swim immediately after eating and toss flaming molotov cocktails at armed police.

For many years it was largely assumed that this subspecies of moonbat emerged fully formed from a spontaneous mutation of the more common species. What a find!

Unfortunately, that is all the bandwith we have for this edition of INDC Science. Please be sure and check back later for part two of our series, where we'll learn about more musical customs and give you an introduction to some of the more dangerous and predatory moonbat species! Cheerio!

Also, if you enjoyed this coverage please take a moment to learn about how you can indirectly support these non-profit efforts by giving to help Marines fighting in Iraq. Learn about the drive here, and donate today. Seriously.

A good rule in politics is that anyone who picks a fight ought to be prepared to finish it. But having first questioned Mr. Bush's war service, and then made Vietnam the core of his own campaign for President, Mr. Kerry now cries No mas! because other Vietnam vets are assailing his behavior before and after that war. And, by the way, Mr. Bush is supposedly honor bound to repudiate them.

We've tried to avoid the medals-and-ribbons fight ourselves, except to warn Mr. Kerry that he was courting precisely such scrutiny ("Kerry's Medals Strategy," February 9). But now that the Senator is demanding that the Federal Election Commission stifle his opponents' free speech, this one is too rich to ignore.

What did Mr. Kerry expect, anyway? That claiming to be a hero himself while accusing other veterans of "war crimes"--as he did back in 1971 and has refused to take back ever since--would somehow go unanswered? That when he raised the subject of one of America's most contentious modern events, no one would meet him at the barricades? Mr. Kerry brought the whole thing up; why is it Mr. Bush's obligation now to shut it down?
Simply because some rich Bush-backers are funding Swift Boat Veterans for Truth is hardly an adequate answer. Some rich Kerry-backers are spending far more to attack Mr. Bush's record, and the Senator was only too happy to slipstream behind Michael Moore's smear that Mr. Bush was a Vietnam-era "deserter."

The "war crimes" canard isn't so easily handled, however. It relates directly to our current effort in Iraq, where U.S. constancy is as much an issue now as it was in Vietnam. Mr. Kerry's denunciation of the U.S. at that time presaged a career in which he has always been quick to attack the moral and military purposes of American policy--in Central America, against the Soviet Union, and of course during the current Iraq War that he initially voted for. It's certainly fair to wonder if Mr. Kerry will have the fortitude to fight to victory in Iraq if he does win in November. Or will he call for retreat the way he and so many other liberals did when Vietnam became difficult?
The irony here is that a main reason Mr. Kerry has focused so much on Vietnam is to avoid debating Iraq and the rest of his long record in the Senate. He wants Americans to believe that a four-month wartime biography is credential enough to be commander-in-chief. But a candidate who runs on biography can't merely pick the months of his life that he likes--any more than a candidate who makes Vietnam the heart of his campaign can confine the resulting debate to his personal home video.

(Emphasis mine)

(Via Florida Cracker)

Kerry campaign headquarters.

It is from this conference room that John Kerry plots the destruction of the American way of life. When I walked in, I immediately distracted the man-secretary by asking politely for the tickets, all the while surreptitously snapping a precious few reconaissance photos. The quality was low because I had to move quickly; the Kerry-ites fast became suspicious as my Republican flesh began to smoke and sizzle from its close proximity to the source of all that is liberal and French-looking.

This was the centerpiece on the right-hand wall in the lobby. I think it's designed to remind people of something, though I'm not sure what.

Misty, watercolored memories: To the left of the desk, some helpful photos.

After grabbing the tickets, taking some pics and weathering some looks of mild suspicion, I beat a hasty retreat. But was I really safe, or was I merely leaping out of the frying pan and into the fire?

I arrived at the site of the rally almost an hour early, and walked by some activists protesting on the sidewalk before the event.

WE INTERRUPT THIS POST FOR A DISCLAIMER: I loosely consider myself a Republican, but I am also pro-choice. Before anyone gets their panties in a wad in the comments section after this post, please try not to confuse criticism of the messengers with that of the message. I refuse to do a long treatise on the subject during this post. Thank you.

Bubba Sparxxx, DCMPD and three "sunufabitches."

Security, security, security.

I found the security tent a bit lacking. I'll skip the details for national security purposes, but I'm pretty sure that I could have snuck in with a beltload of Semtex and a cellphone detonator ...

Along the back street behind the rally, the Secret Service parked a fleet of greyhounds to block snipers. The logistics involved with repeatedly setting up events like this boggles the mind.

The Pro-Choicers gather in front of the stage.

I staked out a nice spot almost immediately in front of the podium, second-row.

"Girls Gone Wild: John Kerry Pro-Choice Rally!!"

The pro-choice groups were handing out shirts at the event, and rally participants felt the need to immediately change into them, showing disturbing quantities of flesh, including some brief shots of woman and man-boobage. I felt like I was at Burning Man or the Love Parade, except there was no MDMA, and all the naked people were really old and unattractive. The worst of it was blessedly not caught on film.

"But mommy, John Kerry scares me!"
"You'll stop complaining and cheer - it's not too late for mommy to have an abortion, you know!"

Another pistola-packin "sunufabitch."

What is JFK's swiftboat mate holding? A white balancing sheet or a copy of Kerry's plan to fight the war on terror?

The t-shirt on the woman in front of me ... evidence of insidious foreign influence?

This lady was a load of laughs. She had to go to the bathroom about thirty minutes after staking out her prime groupie spot for the rally, and proceeded to shout at every worker that walked by "Where bathroom! WHERE BATH-ROOM!"

Otherwise, the following snippets were overheard while mixing in the crowd:

* Rallyguy: "I'm actually from Midland, and I met Bush. He's a real personable guy, real nice. He's just an idiot."

Rallyguy: "It ain't hard to get all C's."

* (Chants) "Pro-choice! Pro-Kerry! Pro-choice! Pro-Kerry! Pro-choice! Pro-Kerry! (chant stops, pauses) God I wish McCain would have run ..."

But McCain's pro ... oh nevermind.

* "I bet all the Democratic Secret Service people love him to death ..."

* Rallygal2: "Did you see those Pro-Life trucks around the block? Those pictures are really gross ...

Rallygal3: Yeah, that's what they WANT you to think ..."

* "Whatta we want? CHOICE! When do we want it? NOW!" (Rinse, lather, repeat)

Once again, Bill considers selling out the defense of Western Civilization for the siren song of a treasonous enchantress. Snap out of it boy! Concentrate!

The crowd makes some nooooise!

Here he comes ...

Bonjour! Le Sénateur John Kerreeee!

Some of the many faces of John Kerry.

This illustrates why I feel pity for politicians - because at every moment, every event, there's some asshat like me constantly snapping photos in an attempt to catch them doing something dumb. This is the third time that I've been in close proximity to the senator, and he's well-represented by the impression that you get on tv: somewhat awkward, but also imbued with quite a bit of natural confidence. That being said, some of his "uh-huh" faces were rather amusing. I've never seen Dubya, but I'm sure that watching him has its own special entertainment value.

Video of the rally can be found here.

Representatives of NARAL and Planned Parenthood.

Both of their speeches were hyperbolic and included the assertions that choice was the most important issue in the campaign, and the most fundamental issue that determines the state of women's civil rights - worldwide!

Um ... stoning of women in the name of Islam? Acid attacks on women? Female circumcision? Give me a fucking break. Making the assertion that abortion is a key issue for women in the US is highly arguable; projecting your self-centered focus on abortion to the rest of the world is foolish.

I had to shake my head. These people wouldn't know a fundamental issue if it smacked 'em in the face. We all have our predilections and pet causes, but I was struck by the cliched realization that many folks' entire political belief structure is based around total party allegiance that stems from only one or two issues. It's understandable, and I don't expect that a pro-choice activist would be very pleased with Bush, but the relative importance of mild erosions in access to abortions seems to pale in comparison to the threat of the inevitable nexus of WMD and terror.

These folks agree about the fact that we're at war; they're just a bit confused about who constitutes the main enemy to their way of life; especially concerning the rights of women. If you bought what they were selling, you'd think that George Bush was on the cusp of introducing legislation that would institute mandatory burkha-wear in public schools.

Kerry finally speaks. You are getting sleepy, very sleepy ...

He wasn't the worst that I've ever heard him, but it was definitely stale. Notice the looks of carefully projected interest and satisfaction on the faces of the son and the holy spirit. Now watch as their expressions change ever-so-slightly ...

... when shouting erupts from the right of the crowd in front of the stage.

Good Catholics don't kill children! Good Catholics don't kill children!

To his credit, Kerry only paused for a second, imperceptibly shook his head and pressed on. From my vantage point I could only see that members of the crowd were forming a wall with their placards to block the voices and line-of-site of the party-crashers. Drawn by the conflict, I immediately ferreted over to their position.

This is a confusing image, but focus on the red circle placard in the center; behind it is the face of one of the protestors. The woman in the pink shirt to the left is the other one. What were most likely NARAL representatives linked arms and formed a human chain around the two people, dragging them towards the exit.

You can make out the guy's face with the placard over his mouth.

This is a good shot. The protestors are the man in the blue and the woman in the pink.

Freedom of the press silenced! Witness the crushing of dissent in John Ashcroft's America!

I was following the surge along, trying to snap pictures on a failing battery, when I felt a push and saw a hand in my face. One of the women in the foreground of one of the previous shots began blocking me and shouting:

"You can't take pictures of that!"

I immediately lost it. I'm not sure what pissed me off more - their attempt to block the photos or the fact that she put her hands on me.

Me: (with quite a bit of aggression) Get your hands off of me right now, and yes, I can take pictures!

Her: Are you with THEM?!

Me (Pushing past her and continuing to snap away): NO, I'M NOT WITH THEM!

Her (Continuing to follow me): You can't take pictures of me, I've gotten death threats, been on death lists!"

Me: I don't want to take pictures of you, and you're going to be on another one in a second if you don't get the Hell away from me ...

She finally fell off my scent and melted back into the crowd. I tried to get some better long shots, but the battery was almost done now; I had to keep turning the camera on and off to mine the last bit of juice. At points the dragging was more dramatic than these pictures may indicate.

A final shot of the NARAL gals doing the "Kerry-Katch-Em" ...

It's of course understandable that these people had to be removed, but I'd be curious to know the legality involved with the crowd forcibly removing them. I was surprised that they weren't asked to leave by professional security personnel. An amusing footnote - I spied one of the secret service dudes on the perimeter chuckling about the hub-bub.

Pro-Life protestors were circling the block with blaring loudspeakers and graphically-adorned trucks.

I disagree with these people; I think that the reality of life renders abortion as a much less black-and-white issue. That being said, if one has strong religious convictions that define the beginning of valid life as taking place at conception, I can understand the vehemence of their argument. I disagree, and personally find the rhetoric of these folks scary; but I understand. Somewhat. This issue will merit a more specific consideration in a forthcoming INDC post.

I'd had enough and my adrenaline was surging. I'd been slightly annoyed by the hyperbolic rhetoric, put to sleep by Kerry's cadence, amused by the musings of the crowd and filled with white-hot anger at being pushed and blocked by the NARAL woman. Definitely time to go home.

I kept an eye on the news coverage last night, and I don't think that any major outlets made mention of the disruption. You get the inside scoop here at INDC.

This guy looked at me on my way out - yeah Sparky, people do suck.

Update: A fellow weblogger has more details on protestors forcibly removed from the event that you may want to read.

Bob Dole is a bastard. Bob Dole is a whore. Bob Dole loves Viagra and Bob Dole loves him some good dick.

Thanks, Bob, you one-armed whore. Die, old man.
Barry Champlain | Email | Homepage | 08.23.04 - 9:39 am | #

Entertaining, no?

Atrios's post focuses on Bob Dole's political history against the Vietnam War, suggesting that this undermines his credibility when he criticizes Kerry's antiwar activities.

It simply blows my mind that Atrios is so crazy, stupid or disingenuous (or all three) that he can't distinguish the difference between criticism of Kerry's description of American soldiers as war criminals and criticism of the Vietnam War itself.

Soros has got to buy some higher quality talent.

(Via PD)

Mary Beth Cahill
Campaign Manager

A couple of things:

1. I've always liked McCain, but he's clearly trying to have it both ways here, and it's turning me against him. No wonder he can't garner a nomination from either party. I wonder what he thinks about Bob Dole's opinion:

Dole told CNN's "Late Edition" that Kerry may have himself to blame for the current situation, in which polls show him losing support among veterans.

"One day, he's saying that we were shooting civilians, cutting off their ears, cutting off their heads, throwing away his medals or his ribbons," Dole said. "The next day, he's standing there, 'I want to be president because I'm a Vietnam veteran,'" said Dole, whose World War II wounds left him without the use of his right arm. "Maybe he should apologize to all the other 2.5 million veterans who served. He wasn't the only one in Vietnam."

Exactly. And the Swift Vets' response to McCain:

Swift Boat Veterans for Truth has more than 250 members, many of whom were wounded or highly decorated in Vietnam.

We respect Senator McCain's right to express his opinion and we hope he extends to us the same respect and courtesy, particularly since we served with John Kerry, we knew him well and Senator McCain did not.

2. Other than all that, pretty shrill e-mail from Mary Beth, huh? The Kerry campaign is leveling serious charges about illegal political collaboration between the Bush campaign and an independent 527. You'd think that they'd need proof to make such charges ...

UPDATE: Swift Vets' response via Dean, who is on the exact same wavelength:

But I've noticed that a tiny little group of veterans who worked side-by-side with you in Vietnam, called the Swift Boat Vets for Truth, has been making major waves. But the funniest part has been how you've reacted to them. I know that from inside the campaign you don't realize how things look on the outside, so I thought you'd want to know: It doesn't look too good from out here, Senator.

Kerry: They personally raped, cut off ears, cut off heads

Narrator: Swift Boat Veterans for Truth is responsible for the content of this advertisement.

Ah, there they are. Well, some of them. The group on the left were representatives of the media. The 25-30 individuals on the right were the protestors. The turnout would be a bit of a disappointment to any scientist intent on studying Macroglossus lunarius in its natural habitat, but I decided to check 'em out anyway.

"We were going to protest in North Korea, but the weather's much better in DC."

These folks are a bit confused about the definition of the terms "concentration camp" and "tyranny," but they don't seem that crazy. Hmmmm ... let's check over here ...

Bwaaaaaah! Jeebus Christ!

"I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti. F-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f ..."
(Props provided by Industrial Light & Magic)

Who do we have here? Why it's our friend from a previous ANSWER protest, the guy that kept yelling "Fuck you! We're winning!" while the Iraqi was trying to conduct an interview. I think that he might have a wee bit too much time on his hands since Jerry Garcia died.

Where Are They Now?

A commenter on the previous protest thread remarked that this gent looks like singer Mark Storace from the Swiss 80's metal band Krokus. I present the evidence, you decide.

"Well he-llooo there ... my name's Bill ... from the weblo ... I mean, web magazine, INDC Journal? You've never heard of it?! That's weird. Um ... uh ... doesn't that chimp in the White House just make ya sick?! Maybe we should discuss this over a drink ..."

A reporter in the press pool takes a break with a relaxing crossword puzzle: "Hmmmm ... four letters ... starts with 'f' and ends with 'r' ... "'Blank' and balanced" ... hmmmm ... where the fuck is my latte?!"

Easy, breezy, beautiful. Covergirl.

Bob Franken from CNN dials up one of his ho's. "Goddamn that bitch better have my money."

This CBS national correspondent taught me an ancient reporter's secret. Get an extreme close-up in front of the only discernible pack of 10 protestors and say the following:

"Protestors gather in front of the Supreme Court as the justices weigh whether the Constitution can be invalidated by a single Presidential order."

As you narrate, have the cameraman do a quick pull-out and pan over to a shot of the Court.

(Quote is from memory, but should be accurate).

Does it bother anyone that this nearly infinitesimal group of protestors has such a disproportionate impact on the public debate via the misleading dramatization provided by a national news correspondent?

You know, just askin.'

"Yes, that's it, now pout, POUT! You're trapped, you're clawing, you're a prisoner in your sexy body ... now work it, yeeeessss, woooork it ... arch your back ... now lick the bars ... beautiful!"

And finally: "Well, I'll be, look at that! Them moonbats really can fly!"

(George Soros's MoveOn money at work in the metro station by the White House, a highly original protest sign and a selection of books on sale at the rally (including the Communist Manifesto in French).

When I showed up, a few moonbats were slowly circling around the stage, gathering their righteous energy for the impending rage against the machine. The crowd included button-hawkers, LaRouche supporters, some misguided college gals and a couple of hippy booksellers. When I took the picture of the books, I was questioned by the lady behind the table as to whether I was a journalist. I told her "no, more of a freelance hobbyist," at which point I got a barrage of questions from her and her friend. They seemed acutely sensitive to the possibility that someone may be taking photos of the books in order to mock their ideology ...

The emcee gets things rolling with a little expression of solidarity with the Iraq insurgents, who have "a proud tradition of defiance" against foreign intervention.

The prescient organizers made sure that some emergency medical aid was on hand for the crowd.

The PLO is in da house!

My buddy from Al Jazeera poses for a picture. Later he jokes around with the crew from Al Arabya: "I'm not so sure about 'useful', but they're definitely 'idiots!' Bwahahahahahahaha!" (No, not really)

Awwwww, he wants them to be friends. Wait, who are the "shites?"

The speakers were enraged by the Jooos, the military "atrocities" in Fallujah and most of all, George Bush: "I don't want Bush to go back to Texas, I want him behind bars!"

No one was spared their wrath, especially the private security contractors that were killed in Fallujah: "They get paid $1,000 a day, and what are they paid to do? They watch the oil!" Sound familiar?

The speakers were really hitting their stride, when all of a sudden some men started shouting from the right side of the stage. The cavalry had arrived, four Iraqi counter-protestors that decided to offer a different perspective:

"They are liars! These people don't know what they are talking about! They don't know what they are talking about!"

The media swarms the Iraqis.

I'm not sure that I've ever seen people move so quickly; there was literally a sucking sound as the entire horde of reporters mobbed the Iraqi counter-protestors. The International Answer folks were not pleased, and they immediately started shouting into the microphone: "These are CIA operatives! CIA operatives!" It did little good; the Iraqis effectively stole the spotlight.

An Int'l Answer speaker screams in the Iraqi's ear.

The Iraqis then moved 20 feet away from the rally to give interviews, and one of the primary International Answer speakers maneuvered behind one of them and repeatedly yelled, "These men are CIA operatives hired by Ahmed Chalabi!"

Mara Verheyden-Hilliard, aka "the Screamer," gives a cordial interview to Al Arabya. Ms Verheyden-Hilliard's more tame rhetoric can be heard in this 2003 interview on NPR.

One of the Iraqis in a heated Arabic exchange with Al Jazeera, just after declaring to the Al Arabya correspondent: "... yes, Al Jazzera and Al Arabya: if I had power, I swear to God I would not allow Al Arabya and Al Jazeera inside Iraq. Al Arabya and Al Jazeera are Saddam loyalists!"

This woman had the temerity to confront one of the Iraqis and say, "What about abortion? What about Shiite oppression of women?!" My jaw hit the ground. Five minutes prior to this exchange, her group of socialists were declaring their solidarity with the Iraqi uprising. Now that Iraqi counter-protestors had arrived, she was attacking them for their Shiite background.

Socialism, abortion rights and Islamist solidarity. What do they have in common? Hatred of this man:

Dubya steps out and makes an appearance.

A LaRouche supporter engages the Iraqi.

The exchange between the LaRouche supporter and the Iraqi was amusing. The LaRouchie asked the Iraqi, "What about how Dick Cheney and Wolfowitz lied about weapons of mass destruction?" To which the Iraqi responded, "I don't know about that, but only God or the United States had the power to remove Saddam. There are no more mass graves in Iraq!" Notice the pamphlet cover on the Larouchie's sign: a picture of Dick Cheney that reads "Children of Satan II: The Beast Men."

This local NBC reporter literally shoved the LaRouchie out of the way and started asking questions. When the Iraqi told her what he thought of the occupation, saying that "everything is fine, everyone has food, there are 200 newspapers when there were once only two" she knitted her eyebrows and gave him a blatant, condescending smirk (not in this photo).

At the end of the interview she asked him for the spelling of his name, and when he was reluctant to give it to her, she haughtily explained that she needed to say it correctly when she filed her report. I guess it totally escaped her that his background might make him hesitant to feel comfortable giving out that kind of information.

After she was done with the interview, she began laughing with her cameraman at the Iraqi's expense.

I walked over to her and asked, "Why were you laughing at that guy while he was answering your question?"

"I didn't (laughs again). I'm a journalist. I don't have opinions."

I had to walk away. Immediately.

Um ... what's in the backpack, my Palestinian friend?

A Sith Lord attends the demonstration.

Peekaboo! I see you! Notice the Rachel Corrie t-shirt.

A reporter actually gives an Iraqi respect during an interview, but meanwhile, merely 30 feet away ...

... this gentleman pedals over and starts yelling, "Fuck you! Fuck you! We're winning! We're winning!!"

Yelling behind the interview.

Meanwhile, back at the protest: "He's so dreeeamy ..."

Sample lyrics:
Internationalization,
Globalization,
It's the wise,
The worst of Asia, the Americas,
Africa, Europe and the legacy of alchemy,
Dust to gold,
Soul to spirit,
Appreciate the divine while I'm still livin',
Didn't need to die to go to heaven.
We express the omniscience of our ancestors,
Got your blood inside of me ...

Jack-booted fascist storm troopers wonder when they can go "weapons-hot."

A martyr dies for the cause.

And then I left. I wasn't sure what to think; I was torn between anger and laughter the whole time. It's difficult to get that angry with them; these people are ill, seriously ill. They are channeling their severe emotional pain into a political struggle, and no amount of reasoning with them would have any effect. Luckily, they marginalize themselves with their overt displays of insanity, and fortunately, no more than a couple of hundred people showed up for this event. I'm certainly glad that the Iraqis showed up; they likely won a media victory.

Sometimes you just have to shake your head and go home.

A last look at the White House, sans communists.

UPDATE: Speaking of Us vs. Them ...

ANOTHER UPDATE: Read about Citizen Smash's amusing stand at protests in San Diego. This is hilarious:

First up is Carl Muhammed. “Let’s get pumped up!” He shouts to the fifty people (Bryon did an actual head count) scattered in front of the stage. “Anybody have a chant they want to do?”

We burst out laughing.

ANOTHER UPDATE: A reader leaves a link to more photos of these kindly individuals protesting previously in DC; real crushing of dissent in John Ashcroft's America. It seems that intimidation is their style; the media presence yesterday may have saved those Iraqis from a physical confrontation. I largely flew under the radar, but was held in contempt because I wouldn't take a protest sign, and the Palestinian speaker looked fairly angry when I jumped up on the right part of the stage to snap the "reporters swarm" picture.

The best way to comport yourself at these events is to smile, be really nice and tell them that you are a freelance journalist.

UPDATE: Also visit this post regarding subsequent protests in DC.

Blossoms gather in front of the World Bank to protest free trade.

A dash of pink on the South Lawn.

A peek at the Jefferson Memorial across the Tidal Basin.

An amazing monument.

The World War II Memorial is almost complete and open to the public. It's glorious, tremendous and arguably the most beautiful monument in the Washington area. It's scope and size reflect the massive sacrifice that it represents.

"Victory in the Air," surrounded by eagles in the Pacific wing of the monument.

These are all snaps for my grandfather and namesake, who died in the Pacific theater as a fighter pilot off the second USS Lexington in 1944. William Martin shot down 4 Japanese planes and received the Air Medal and the Distinguished Flying Cross for valor before dying in an ill-fated crash. This monument has the effect that all great monuments should - it filled me with pride and sadness about the sacrifice made by my family and country.

The Atlantic wing of the monument.

Some color and irony, as Sweden's represenative to the Cherry Blossom Festival poses in front of the Ancient Japanese Stone Lantern and military personnel display the colors at the 2004 Lantern Lighting Ceremony.

A gift from Japan presented in 1954, the lantern is 353 years old. This year's ceremony also marked the 150th anniversary of the first treaty between the United States and Japan. The ceremony took place literally 50 yards from the monument to the War in the Pacific, and as I mentioned earlier, it's amazing how things change. Two thoughts sprung to mind:

1. Lord Palmerston's Axiom: nations have no permanent allies, only permanent interests.
2. These countries have moved on from the animosity generated by a World War and two nuclear detonations. There may be a sliver of hope for humanity.

Musicians perform traditional Sakura music and a Japanese choir sings under the canopy.

Amazing. Spring, cherry blossoms in full bloom, an awe-inspiring memorial and a ceremony of friendship between Japan and the United States. Sometimes Washington, DC is a great place to live.

Mr. Zúniga,

I had some comments and questions about your earlier post today that sparked so much furor in the blogosphere. I realize that you have quite a large readership and cannot respond to every e-mail, but if you get the chance, I would really love to hear your feedback about this matter.

First of all, I'm on the "other side" of this issue; I support the War in Iraq. That being said, I can understand many of the more intelligent motivations of those on the left of this issue that were against the war. Most reasonable and moral people can find reasonable and logical arguments that come to major disagreement about the validity of invasion, so I by no means hold your position in contempt.

But - your comments today strike me as baffling, especially coming from a former soldier. These men were Americans, and while they may have been paid mercenaries (as you describe them), private security contractors are responsible for a variety of tasks in Iraq that are considered vital for the potential success of any emerging government. They serve the function of training Iraqi security forces, protecting contractors that are rebuilding the infrastructure and providing aid, and as body guards for representatives of the nascent Iraqi government.

While I understand why you may feel that this war was unjust, and that the consequences of military action should be well-publicized and made clear to those of us that supported the war, I can't understand how this translates into dismissal about the deaths of these men. I really don't understand why their sacrifice is made invalid because they were privately employed and well-compensated. If you were merely emotional at the time you wrote the comments, that is understandable as well; I have certainly also been moved to anger by events that I found unjust. Please clarify.

The purpose of this e-mail is not to lecture you, it really is an attempt to understand what you meant and hopefully start a meaningful (if brief) dialogue; I'd really like to understand your position. if you get a chance, please e-mail me back.

Regards,

William

His response:

From : kos@dailykos.com
Sent : Friday, April 2, 2004 9:40 PM
To : "William XXXX@hotmail.com
Subject : Re: Kos, Regarding Your Post About Fallujah

markos

More to come ... jump to Part 2.

Mr. Zúniga,

William

I have no idea if he'll respond, but let's see ...

UPDATE: No response.

Slur: Convict
Represents: Blacks
Reasons/Origins: Two-thirds of American inmates are Black.

Thankfully, a highly-publicized white-collar affirmative action program is under sail.

Slur: Huff
Represents: Native Americans
Reasons/Origins: They huff gas to get high as they can't afford real drugs

I smell an idea for a new charity ... let's get these folks the good stuff.

Slur: Jellybean
Represents: Blacks
Reasons/Origins: "Everyone hates the black ones."

Reagan!

Slur: Bear
Represents: Blacks
Reasons/Origins: "Black Educated And Rich."

This whole time, Andy Sullivan was a gold-digger. Who knew?

Slur: Cook
Represents: Asians
Reasons/Origins: Most Asians in non-asian countries are cooks.

In related news, it's reported that white folks still dominate baking.

Slur: Gimpy
Represents: Blacks
Reasons/Origins: It is an often stereotype that most people who collect unemployment are black. And blacks pretend they are injured so they can collect.

Um, ok, if you say so, "Racial Slur Database" ... but now how exactly am I supposed to crack wise about the handicapped?

Slur: Jabonee
Represents: Italians
Reasons/Origins: What American-born Italians call immigrant Italians, as in "He/she is a real Jabonee right off the boat. Can't even speak English." Possibly a real Italian word bastardized by English-speaking Italian-Americans.

Au contraire, my friend: "ja-BRO-ne." In related news, it's reported that the Rock is of Asian descent ... and he's always "cookin'."

Slur: Land Torpedo
Represents: Arabs
Reasons/Origins: Car bombers.

That's not a racial slur, that's a Department of Homeland Security term ...

Slur: Flipper
Represents: Mixed Races
Reasons/Origins: Fillipino/Black Mix.

How does one say "Bring ... it .... on!" in Tagolog?

Slur: Seoul Man
Represents: Koreans
Reasons/Origins: Describes Koreans who try to act Black.

Or, whites that act black in movies.

Slur: Sleestax
Represents: Blacks
Reasons/Origins: "From "Land of the Lost," the Sleestax were stupid, slow and apperantly very lazy. They could never catch Chaka."

I not sure if I buy into the idea that the Sleestaks were black, but those guys sure scared the crap out of me when I was a kid ...

Slur: Butterfingers
Represents: French
Reasons/Origins: Started during WWII when the French were occupied by the Germans and were forced to "drop" all their weapons.

"Apportez-le dessus!" (?)

Slur: Soap Dodger
Represents: French
Reasons/Origins: From the French habit of not appearing to bathe regularly. Also France supposedly has the lowest per capita soap consumption in Europe.

I don't think that this fulfills the intent of the Racial Slur Database, but I'm actually adding this one to my vocabulary ...

And with thanks to commenter Michael Dennis, I realized something about Oliver's attire ...

Slur: Redskin
Represents: Native Americans
Reasons/Origins: The term Redskin, came from two places, the skin color, then the cruel torture of skinning Native Americans for a bounty. Since their skin was red they started saying "red skins."

Let go of the hate, Oliver. Let go of the hate.

He stopped to shake the hand of the waiter holding the door while the other diners waited deferentially just behind him. Then he walked right up to me and looked me straight in the face.

An unflinching confidence and the requisite swagger, a swell in a literal sense as he walked in looking ready and robust in a blue suit. The air was immediately supercharged; the prez was in the house.

...

"You can bring me more of that cider, but I'd really love it if you brought me a beer," said Bush.

...

Dessert and coffee, and then they were gone. Pushed out chairs, rumpled napkins and abandoned tartlets in various states. We opened up the doors; some of us took off our jackets.

"Thank you, Sir, good luck." And I meant it completely.

(Emphasis mine, of course)

Is Bush cowardly? By what measure? By the fact that he served in a stateside National Guard Unit during the Vietnam War? I don't regard flying fighter jets as a cowardly occupation, even in non-combat operations. And while physical courage is certainly an admirable character trait, moral and political courage are the two brands of bravery that are more relevant to a leadership position. So let's take what I consider the major example of Bush's political courage ...

Some of the most common criticisms of the President malign his motivations for going to war in Iraq, suggesting that the decision was somehow driven by profit, thirst for empire or petty revenge. While those paranoid rantings may make for nice, spine-tingling soundbites during ANSWER rallies and speeches by Al Gore, all evidence to the contrary points to the fact that these accusations are simply not credible. If you can't accept these baseline ground rules, please step out of line, get your rabies shots, collect your tin foil hat, and leave the room. Thank you. Moving on ...

In contrast, it's perfectly reasonable for individuals that were anti-war to come to the conclusion that the invasion was a mistake, or that the idealistic vision of spurring Middle-East reform is a rosy-colored pipe dream. I don't agree with these assessments, but I can certainly respect individuals that present well-constructed arguments that draw these conclusions. But assuming that we can all agree that Bush made a decision to go to war because he thought that it was the right thing to do, whether one agrees with him or not, I fail to envision how anyone can describe the man as a "coward."

In the profession of politics, I can think of no single act that carries greater personal risk than waging a pre-emptive war that attempts to install a functioning Democracy in the Middle East. The war itself carried the perceived risks of chemical attacks, high US casualties, torched oil fields, a civilian refugee crisis and slow, difficult and bloody street-to-street fighting in Baghdad. As a political ploy, attempting to marshall sustained popularity by engaging in a war to topple Saddam Hussein is a losing proposition, a factor that I'm sure weighed heavily over Herbert-Walker Bush's decision to stop short of deposing Saddam Hussein as he headed into a re-election cycle.

So, is Dubya a coward? No. His willingess to make the incredibly risky political decision to invade Iraq defies the description.

#2 - "spoiled overgrown frat-boy"

Was George Bush spoiled? From my perspective, yes. He grew up in a family of immense privilege, used family connections and finances to launch and eventually succeed (after some notable failures) in business, and has otherwise not dedicated his life to public service before embracing responsibility at a point well into adulthood. I personally have grown up with none of these advantages, so I can certainly empathize with the reflexive cynicism and scorn that individuals may have for George Bush's first four decades on planet Earth. But a couple of things are relevant here:

* Are we supposed to automatically hold Presidential candidates up to a rarified standard of lifetime excellence? Does George Bush's unambitious past disqualify him as a competent executive now? Would you really automatically prefer an alternative candidate that has nurtured calculating Presidential ambition for over thirty years?

* If you were born into a family of privilege, are you certain that you would have followed a more exalted path? And what would it say about you if you didn't?

As for the frat-boy image, this is a character trait that some people love, some people hate, and I perceive through a lens of amused tolerance that borders on affection. If you regard yourself as a sensitive intellectual and work with the fundamental assumption that all of the best people in the world are just like you, it's a given that you're going to break out into hives the minute you hear that Bush's nickname for Karl Rove is "turd blossom," or when you find out that he greeted Vladimir Putin by saying "Nice of you to mow the grass for us."

In short, you are a snob.

Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with people that make funny jokes at Dubya's expense (Will Farrell's dimwitted impression of Bush during the 2000 debates is among my all-time favorites), but if this character trait inspires a visceral, unreasonable hatred of the man and his policies, then you need to step back, take a breath and screw your head on straight.

On the flip side, while I mine Kerry's elitism and faux-populism as a particularly rich source of joke material, I don't hate him for it, even as I'm perfectly aware that there are many people in the electorate (and some that comment on this site), that view his incredible wealth as a reason to engage in a particularly angry brand of class-warfare. They want to hate him, and the fact that he's a billionaire is a nice, big, juicy target. But you know what? Unreasonably hating someone because they're what you're not is not a good way to make a choice between Presidential candidates.

3. Bush's "muddled speech."
I'm not going to sit here and practice the "soft bigotry of low expectations" by telling you that Bush's mangled syntax is an endearing asset, an irrelevant trait, or even a minor quibble, because the communication ability of the Commander-in-Chief is a key part of the resume. Ronald Reagan could have given a speech in the midst of armageddon that would have kept the electorate calm and hopeful, whereas Bush has a frustrating inability to communicate the complex motivations for pre-emptive war in Iraq without bizarrely parroting soundbites about "freedom." When he got shredded over WMD in an interview with Dianne Sawyer, it severely diminished the government's credibility; communication is a big problem. And it's not that the gaffes are indicative of real stupidity, but the mere impression of stupidity effectively harms the interests of the United States.

But here's the thing: I will prioritize a President that exhibits even occasional moral and political courage (even when I don't always agree with him), over a President that communicates brilliantly, but fails to make decisions that carry any degree of professional risk.

Look, I don't worship at the altar of George W. Bush. I'm pro-choice. As an atheist, I find the religious references very slightly annoying (but in no way threatening) ... I think that his administration's spending is unsustainable and could be strategically frightening ... I think that the support of the FMA was a mistake that history will view in a dim light ... and I think that the man's inability to objectively analyze and sufficiently communicate the intentions and methodology of many of his administration's policies has led to uneccessary criticism and undermined some of the country's interests.

But even with all of these criticisms and fundamental disagreements, you know what? I'm positive that George Bush isn't a coward. And he's not stupid. And the fact that this dimwitted, "frat-boy" makes strong decisions in the war on terror, and gives his subordinates the latitude to execute these decisions has earned my vote and my fundamental respect. His proven political courage is the character issue that matters in this election. Period.

UPDATE: Way Off Bass has more.

#3:

Indeed.

#4:
Have Not Decided to Attend College:

1. Feta cheese
2. '64 Mustang Coupe
3. Beer nuts
4. The Collected Instrumentals of Claude Debussy
5. Fresh Thyme leaves
4. "Leave It To Beaver"
3. Wilson athletic gear
2. Terrazzo
1. Jeff Goldstein

#5:
Bill,

PS - Rusty is gay. Trust me!

#6:
Bill,

Michele Catalano

#7:
Dude,

Kevin Aylward, aka Dr. Luv

#8
Bill,

PS - Abortion is a modern holocaust

#9
Bill,

Dean

#10
Bill,

Michelle

6/05/02
My personal favorite:

When Kerry is asked about the nightmares that haunted his sleep for years after he returned from Vietnam, he shrugs. "I don't think I've had a nightmare in a long time," he says. But then Heinz begins to mimic Kerry having a Vietnam nightmare.

"I haven't gotten slapped yet," she says. "But there were times when I thought I might get throttled."

May/03
"They'll call me Mrs. Kerry, because that's what's natural to them," she complained to Elle magazine last summer. "I don't tell them to shut up. . . . I don't give a s--t, you know."

12/11/03
When Teresa Heinz-Kerry arrived, she handed me a pin that read in the center: “Asses of Evil” with “Bush”, “Cheney”, “Rumsfeld” and “Ashcroft” surrounding it.

6/15/04
"I'm cheeky, I'm sexy, whatever. You know, I've got a lot of life inside."

Various past gems, from a must-read Boston Magazine article:

She never really suspected either of her husbands of cheating, she added. "What I expect of them, they have a right to expect of me," she said. "Maybe I'm into 18-year-olds."

She told the Boston Globe of her shock and pleasure at seeing blacks in South Africa, where she was sent to boarding school from her home in Mozambique at age 13. "Our guys weren't so black and so big," she said.

She once described the prospect of being first lady as "worse than going to a Carmelite convent."

As early as 1994, during elections for her late husband's former Senate seat in Pennsylvania, Heinz Kerry called politicians like Republican Rick Santorum "Forrest Gump with attitude..."

Former staffers for Senator Heinz, campaign workers for Kerry, and salespeople at chic clothing shops frequented by the heiress say she doesn't hesitate to voice her displeasure. This conduct is so widely known in the retail world that a woman who works in one Newbury Street boutique says she's grateful Heinz Kerry does so much of her shopping in Washington, and not here.

After most of the trick-or-treaters had finished their rounds, Heinz Kerry made an appearance when three children about 10 years old rang her bell, two dressed as hippies and one as a cat. "I had a big barrel of candy, and it's all gone!" she screamed, shutting the door on the bewildered youngsters.

And some serious truth to power in 1975:

Teresa Heinz Kerry, years before becoming a Democrat, railed against the party's "putrid'' politics, said she didn't trust Sen. Edward M. Kennedy and angrily called the liberal lion a ``perfect bastard.''

Now if only we could get Laura Bush to start swearing and mixing it up ...

(Much credit to this comprehensive and prescient column by Michelle Malkin. Also see more from Kate O'Beirne)

UPDATE: Malkin has more.

Remarkable work.