Sunday, January 27
It was a good speech, an uplifting speech. You have a lot of us on your train, Senator, but we're sitting in the last car talking to each other, not about hope or the future or fucking bipartisanship. We're not going with you that far, and here is why: Senator Obama, no matter how good it feels to rub ourselves with this:
We can't put this administration and its crimes behind us. Because what is happening in Guantanamo and Iraq and in the White House right this minute is NOT behind us, Senator. Not behind us.
(Thanks to Poetry Man for that.)
It's not behind us any more than lynching is, Senator. And you know it.
We're still prosecuting Klansmen and expressing outrage over nooses on Golf Magazines because that's the right thing to do. Crimes against humanity do not have an expiration date. And whether they're committed against the African American community, a community in Africa, or a country that had nothing to do with 9/11, the guilty must be brought to justice.
And by the way, that includes anyone implicated in the 9/11 crimes, too, Mister President. We had a justice system in this country before you took office. And if you say Osama bin Laden is the mastermind, you've had over two thousand days since your masterful reading of My Pet Goat to find the bastard, let alone bring anyone you've already locked up to trial.
And Senator Obama? Maybe I'm just a bitter old liberal hobo who has no business on your express. I don't look happy, and I have no fucking interest in looking electable. My flask is full of bitter swill, sure, and no one really wants to share it with me. I'm just stinking up your train...muttering to myself...ain't I, Senator? All about the past seven years...that if only I could just put all that behind me....it's a shame...a waste of a good Democrat...I stink of my own pissed-off-ness, and could never join you in the club car for a round of Era-of-Good-Feeling Hope-and-Faith Cocktails.