A Commodity Called Trust - Toe To Toe - Old Scores, New Glories (CD)

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Spirit of an Age Warhead Early Toe to Toe shows around were summer backyard barbecues and punk venues around Sydney quickly building up a reputation as a formidable live act. Both singles are still a much valued collectors item around the world. The success of these two releases and the reputation of live shows saw Toe to Toe become the leaders of the Australian surf, hardcore and skate punk scene. Returning to Australia they signed to Sydney based label Custom Recordings and received rave reviews after stamping their authority on the inaugural Surf Skate Slam and Vans Warped tours.

Over the past two years Toe to Toe have played with U. Toe to Toe deliver their music with passion and intensity they combine elements of punk, metal and old school hardcore to make their own style of aggressive sounds that appeals to anybody that likes heavy music. Tags punk hardcore punk Sydney.

Sessions covers and rarities. Toe To Toe recommends:. As we drove he provided a running commentary on history, geology, and geography. Laramie was the first town out from Colorado: windy, railroad-dingy, a line of motor courts with cowboy neon fashioned into branding irons, buck- ing broncos, and buckaroos. This run of the open-space West stretched as wide as the Cinerama screens in its cities, out to the limits of periph- eral vision, where you knew it kept going.

When something happened in that emptiness—a dust storm, a rainbow, a fleet of pronghorn dashing across the road so close I always remembered them actually leaping over the hood—it made my day. On these long-ago evenings in Little America we would stop for the night at the motel and truck stop that punctuated the windy middle of nowhere and gratefully take our key to one of the modest red brick units.

Gleeful to be out of the car, we would shower off the sweat that came from driving be- fore air conditioning became commonplace, with the windows open and my parents smoking. We exulted in the tight family unit of our threesome.

We smirked at each other in the dining room when smiling, elderly Alice Hand played her un-hip bouncy tunes on an electric organ. I remember her benign smile, a benediction bestowed on anyone with the means to sit in the brass-studded leather armchairs and pay for hamburgers and steak and fried shrimp and soft dinner rolls. Even today I keep meeting other middle-aged people who share my af- fection for layovers at Little America in the postwar years. At the time I be- lieved my relationship with the place was special.

In reality this place, with its odd charm, drew multitudes. While my mother and father relaxed at the bar with their before-dinner gin-and-tonics, and again, the next morning, when they lingered over cof- fee, I was free to wander around Little America, exploring.

And for my tally of license plates from different states, I always censused the parking lot. Everything about the place seemed a little askew. A gleaming shield of. Across the lobby, in a glass case defending the gift shop, a penguin that had expired on its way from Antarctica to serve as a live mascot for Little America stood sentry, stuffed and mounted instead.

I coveted them, every one. There were fireworks, too —illegal at home but legal in Wyoming and therefore mesmerizing. Cracker balls were my weapons of choice, the little wads of brightly colored paper and gunpow- der I winged at the pavement for a satisfying explosion. I used up my allowance on the cracker balls and used up the poppers one by one on the oil-stained cement curbs.

I threw them hard, venting frustra- tion and anger stored up during the school year in my role as an outsider— the kid who loved books more than baseball. I did this without analysis. It simply felt good; catharsis followed. These little explosions gave me power.

After I turned sixteen I ferried my mother to Little America in our Dodge Dart, an ugly pinkish-tan one-of-a-kind confrontation of curves and angles, following my father as he drove the government Jeep. I was de- termined to drive every mile. Though I was with my family, I was on the road. These trips were my coming-of-age rites. Shrinking under too much sky, I dreamt of the time when mountain men were the only Europeans for hundreds of miles.

In the beginning I needed this safe perch to confront the great North American space. I looked in from the edge, from the road, from the car window, from motels at the periphery of crossroads towns—bunkhouses on the rim of wildness. As a child of the s I imagined that the world was evenhanded. We had triumphed over Hitler, and we would triumph over the Reds.

The Powerful watched out for my interests. But now Holding, whoever he was, was fooling with my childhood—penguins, placemats, and all. I loved the romanticism of Covey, the survivor, building this motel him- self, telling us his story of the Great Blizzard each spring when we returned to read his placemats. I was invested in that story, and I felt betrayed that someone could appropriate my cherished myth. Who was this new guy, this Holding, anyhow? The Holdings moved to Little America just about the same time my fam- ily began to stay there for one night each spring.

When Earl Holding finally became the boss at Little America, he must have felt giddy with his new independence. Earl, the manager, became Earl, the owner, who began to assert control.

I can only presume the details. Earl rarely speaks in public. Apart from the rumors and stories that travel with the man, these are my sources. He started poor. He worked hard to become the owner of the original Little America. He had parlayed his original re- mote and funky truck stop into ownership of Sinclair Oil. Earl runs 50, head of cattle in Wyo- ming and Montana on hisdeeded acres of ranchland. From this position of power Earl made the move that intrigued me.

The Ogden Valley citizens fighting the loss of their neighborhood gem, the lit- tle ski area on Mount Ogden built on reclaimed land, were just as emo- tionally invested. The Olympics elevated their conflict to operatic heights and magnified the consequences of every decision.

Ross Perot. Three years later his parents, Eugene and Reva, lost everything in the stock market crash and went to work as managers at the Hillcrest Apartments down the street. The classic Depression mentality of saving yourself through work found a perfect seed- bed in the boy.

Earl looked up; my storyteller looked down. All she could think of was the image of her- self as the grasshopper, fiddling frivolously, while two humorless and dis- approving ants below worked, worked, worked. At 15 cents an hour, nine-year-old Earl began his ceaseless life of work by gardening around the apartments managed by his parents and owned by the prominent Covey brothers, Almon A.

Soon Earl was putting in three hours before school and eight hours after school, and the Coveys had raised him to 65 cents an hour. By the time he joined the Army Air. He was a skilled poker player in his youth—a surprising tal- ent in a young Mormon—so maybe some of that grubstake came from his winnings. His intimidating physical presence must have made for a pow- erful bluff. One generation ahead of me, Earl entered adulthood as I was born in In June he married Carol Orme, his sweetheart from college.

After finishing two years of military service he returned to the University of Utah and earned his civil engineering degree in Primed to participate in the great industrial postwar buildup of the West, Earl worked for a year as a construction engineer for the Bureau of Recla- mation. He exemplified the American belief that technology can solve every problem. Isolation made it hard to keep help. They made Earl an offer: a 12 percent stake in Little Amer- ica in return for his signing on as manager.

In those early years the Holdings set the pattern for their fabled micromanaging—flipping burgers, making beds, pumping gas, operating construction machines, checking salad dressing for missing ingredients, choosing carpet and paint colors, hovering over—and intimidating—their staff. Earl turned Little America around in one year; he ended skimming by. In Wyoming the alternative lay too many miles down the road. Earl found a way to mine money from the apparently unproductive expanse.

That classmate who remembered Earl was Hal Clyde, one year ahead of Earl in the engineering department at the University of Utah and now retired from operating his family construction company. The Covey family story goes like this: Earl turned Little America into a gold mine—a wonderful, profitable business—by solving the labor prob- lems and seeing potential where others did not.

The Coveys wanted him to stay and offered him part ownership. He accepted but wanted more shares; they sold him more. The court case arose when A. In the end, of course, Earl won.

It depends on who you are talking to. Earl did. Earl borrowed heavily to pull off both deals. Sinclair is now one of the biggest oil and gas out- fits in the Rockies.

According to a rare description of his operating methods published later that year, Earl had seen Sun Valley on a road trip three years before and been impressed. He was the one I wanted to have the place. What a treat it must have been to take over a gem like Sun Valley Lodge.

My concept in business is that you get out of something exactly what you put in. If a place is run well, the money comes back and you put it back in again to keep getting better and better. We pump the gas, we make up the rooms, we plant trees, we involve ourselves with every angle of every operation.

We believe that 1, details go together and—. Describing his dream for Sun Valley at the time he took over, Earl moved quickly from the mundane to the moral. I want to attract a family clientele. We love the folks with the kids. This is not a haven for hippies or yippies. We want clean-cut people to come here. We have cocktail lounges in all of our Little Americas. That is so wrong. He requires his staff to keep their hair short and their faces clean-shaven.

His assumptions about class and power remain patriarchal. He wields his powerful personality and six- foot stature like weapons; when Earl arrives on site, middle management crumbles. These men cherish their membership in this tight inner circle. In a sidebar to a article, prominent Utahns offered their take on Earl. In addition to generic praise for his hard work and attention to detail, a common thread was his complete focus on business.

He is said often not to understand a joke. He makes no small talk, ever. He takes no vacations. He thinks golf a thorough waste of time. His only motivation is the desire to own and build and accomplish and complete—at the highest level of quality he can achieve.

He builds top-notch structures and landscapes them meticulously. Not every couple wants to see high-end real estate consume their favorite picnic meadow. But I do want to understand just why Earl is so intent on getting it done. I have tried to reach him through his executive secretary, who always po- litely put me off, and through Chris Peterson, his son-in-law. I have called his lawyer, who pleaded lawyer-client privilege.

He said he would put in a good word for me. But Wally Huffman declined an interview. Still no answer. I attended the Utah versus Wyoming football game at the University of Utah stadium, where Earl and Carol Holding were reputed to lead cheers each year dressed in cowboy outfits after hosting an expansive dinner for University of Wyoming fans at Little America.

I went inwhen the Utah team clobbered Wyoming 35—0; the Holdings did not appear. Maybe Earl was too busy to attend; this was also the autumn before the Olympics. A century ago a man of his wealth would have lived at some distinct and rarified distance from run-of-the-mill workers and professionals. In a small western state like Utah the physical continuum of class and status does not separate citizens quite as sharply, yet Earl still is out beyond the end of any chain of connections—remote, almost mythical, still living on The Hill.

As his company has grown he can no longer stay close to the people who work for him. In he told a reporter that he missed those happier days. There is no Board of Directors; there are only Earl and Carol. Earl and Carol divide their time among homes in Sun Valley and Utah and the split-level penthouse on the nineteenth floor of his Westgate Ho- tel in San Diego. Yet even within that realm Earl rarely allows himself to be seen away from his own business properties, beyond his own small circle.

Earl Holding has no reason to talk with me. Culturally I stand New Glories (CD) the dis- tant outfield, far from the inner circle of pioneer Mormon Republican com.

I attend Democratic fundraisers. Some of the stories are true, some surely exaggerated, some apocryphal. The Wizard of Oz as magnified on the screen rather than the perspiring man behind the curtain. As in any relationship, New Glories (CD) relationship with Earl has evolved.

He fired the entire staff of 1, —conditions of sale that allowed him to start fresh with his own organization and hire back only the chosen. Earl has the reputation of begging forgiveness rather than asking for permission.

He has a reputation for working his employees hard, at below- market wages. One year he recruited early-release prisoners from Salt Lake City whose presence con- tributed to a minor crime spike in Sun Valley. He owns his companies outright, and he runs his empire as a collection of businesses rather than as a corporation. Once he has made a business successful, he takes immense pride in its appearance. Earl is a huckster, too.

Sinclair donated a half million dollars to the Red Cross after Hurricane Katrina in Other stories occasionally surface about acts of kindness and anony- mous philanthropy. More often Earl is reported to never, ever, ever contrib- ute money to charitable causes. His infamous civic miserliness has helped shape public reaction to the man and his projects.

Earl invests in Earl. Earl Holding may direct his energy to work rather than faith, but the teach- ings of his church permeate his worldview. He takes that power for granted, and wields it with gusto. He purchased one of his corporate jets from the Sultan of Brunei. Earl Holding is a reflection of the past—a tycoon whose riches come not from cyberspace but from oil and land. And yet even in millennial America the wealthy and powerful still have their way.

They are indeed our emperors. We obey and adore them; we fear and hate them. They are both our antithesis and our models of citizenship. Beginning with the first Salt Lake City bid presentation inSnowbasin had turned up on all lists of proposed sites for the alpine speed events in a Utah Olympics. In those early Olympic bids, few questioned the notion that the Winter Olympics would be something positive for the community. In Budapest, four hundred Utah Olympic boosters presented an extrav- aganza of images, music, and commentary—from videos of President Bill Clinton on down.

Years of preparation came down to words and images— another cleverly worded legend, spun like the Legend of Little America, but aimed at a new audience, the International Olympic Committee. The future depended on language. Each competing country strove to make its words resonate, to play virtuoso cadenzas to move each voting IOC member. The common folk at least believed Butch Cassidy to be a Robin Hood who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. Like corporate America, Butch Cassidy believed his ends justified his means.

But he moved money in the opposite direction. Olympic politics became Utah politics in the s, and no one knew this better than Earl. He could remain quiet at board meetings; he had secured what he needed from the Olympics.

Earl Holding resigned from the board. Mitt Rom- ney came from Massachusetts to replace longtime local organizers and then after the Olympics Mitt went home to Boston to be elected governor and run for president. The world moved on. Caught wooing IOC members with hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash payments, college scholarships and jobs for family members, medical treatment, land deals, and trips to the Super Bowl, Disneyland, and Las Vegas, the local Olympic Committee had gone far into illegal territory to massage votes.

Investigations led to the expulsion of ten members of the IOC, sanctions for another ten, and deep reform. Earl went back to his personal projects. He admits that neither the grand hotel nor the grand ski resort make economic sense, for profits will come only years after the enormous up-front investments.

After years of empire building in the surrounding states, he had come home to Utah with his fortune, to erect his physical declaration of wealth—the five-diamond Grand America hotel—within blocks of where he had started. Flags from Olympic nations snapped crisply in the wind and sun.

Three hundred million people watched the delayed broadcast. With his Olympic involvement, and in his eagerness to show off Grand America, Earl emerged from his reclusiveness and began to give hotel tours to carefully chosen reporters. Earl also began to appear more frequently at public events. Serving front and center as host at banquets at Grand America, each year Earl looked a little more tired, a little more elderly. But still he worked the tables, chat- ting with the powerful, introducing himself to the masses, haranguing the help about problems with the dessert buffet—always proud of his hotel.

A few days after that his staff reassured reporters that the seventy-seven-year-old man was physically impaired but still sharp and smart and tracking the details of his businesses. I laid these to rest when a friend told me that he had a lively conversation with Earl at Snowbasin. This time I journeyed through a snowstorm toward Denver, not away from it, to move my aging parents from our family home to a retire- ment apartment.

Rather than simply head east from Salt Lake City up Inter- state 80, I left Utah on a more circuitous route that would take me on a tour of the Holding empire. The highway sluiced along the nar- row terrace between the Great Salt Lake and the foothills protected by na- tional forest, through booming stucco suburbs that spin out minivans and preschoolers at astonishing rates. The first passage eastward through the Wasatch Mountains came at Weber Canyon, just before reaching Ogden.

I took it, following the signs into the canyon and upstream along the river, entering the mountain front, the truck jumpy, caught in the teeth of the wind howling down from Wyoming. Remaining on the highway, I skirted Mount Ogden along its southern base, admiring the peak from a distance but not stopping to observe the new lift cables strung taut up into the bowls—right up the Olympic down- hill course.

From here the interstate carried me east, through the mountains and into Wyoming as the weather grew nastier and darkness loomed. Standing in ironic clash with the yawning open space, new Little America billboards came along every few miles, as brash a mark of ownership on the treeless roadside as ever.

Between the billboards crossroads mini-marts were the only commercial establishments. So many of these sported Sinclair neon that I began to suspect that Earl Holding owned everything along this stretch of Interstate America. I remembered my childhood journeys here, before the interstate, when my parents and I felt like we owned the West. Our investment had noth- ing to do with money, for these were the public lands of the West owned by us all—the Great Divide, the Canyon Country, the Shining Mountains.

Every vacation we had taken just enough money for essentials and lit out for new territory. The open road led to the Golden West, to national parks, to beauty, to delight. Our only real estate, real ownership, was our house in the suburbs of Denver, the house my parents were only now leaving, a compact yellow rambler built in —the year I was born—as Denver expanded west to- ward the lift of the Front Range.

In my childhood the successful businessmen I knew best were, apart from my gentle grandfathers, all objectionable—narrow, condescending, mean-spirited men. They had dismissed me as an ethereal eccentric, a benign oddball. Even as a child I had disliked them. But society rewarded them with wealth and status. The American value of free-rein enterprise now carried on by Earl has guided everyone from the mountain men, whom I envy for their chance to explore Indian America, to the corporations that followed, whose self- centered boomer mentality I decry.

I know the mountain men were boomers, too —and I reluctantly admit that tycoons can be audacious and accomplished. There was a new, gleaming, too-brilliant building next door, with fast food and high-tech gas pumps. Inoffensive recordings of classical music played. I sat in the same high-backed chairs I had perched on at five, at ten, and slouched in at sixteen. It was disorienting to be here in this museum diorama of my childhood, writing in my journal about memories thirty and forty years old.

It was ironic, too, that the very reason for my trip lay waiting in Den- ver, where I would encounter that childhood in sifting through the closets and shelves of my family home. In those boxes lay forgotten Little Amer- ica key chains and Viewmaster reels, snapshots of my mother and father standing on the curb here, younger than I am now.

Fuchsia neon reflected from a molded green Sinclair dinosaur grazing on the front lawn. Darkness settled; the ground blizzard grew more daunting. Back on the road I felt threatened by the semis bar- reling over the black ice and through the wind-driven blind of snow, a roar- ing force at odds with the tenderness of my memories.

I drove east, into my future, back to my childhood—navigating the wire of asphalt strung through the night from Little America to home. Mountain and desert. Urban and rural. Tamed and wild. Wasatch, Wahsatch, a lovely word, hard to translate from the languages spoken by the Ute and Western Shoshone people who lived there.

Or that the name memorializes the Shoshone Chief Wah- satch. Others connect the word with a story that captures the flip side of the mountains, the raw peaks rather than the wildflowered meadows. Winds can roar over the Wasatch, reaching one hundred twenty miles per hour. Snow stacks in drifts, storm after storm, up to five hundred inches each winter. Once Ute men hunting in the mountains near Park City were over- whelmed by one of these big blizzards.

When they found the one among them who had been lost, their friend was dead, his penis frozen stiff. Not as jagged as the Grand Tetons or the Sierra Nevada. Not as overwhelming as Rainier or Denali. Not old and rounded like the Appalachians.

Instead this moun- tain is perfectly shaped for hovering protectively over the people who live below. Mount Ogden is a life-giving watershed, a perfect ski mountain in winter, climbable and approachable in summer, generating affection and loyalty. It is also our youngest and most fertile state, a smoldering pop- ulation bomb, with 25 percent more births per woman than the national av- erage. These days starter castles and tracts of characterless suburbs germinate from freshly poured foundations, shooting skyward faster than ripening grain in the fields across the road.

The range of peaks and the communities at their feet participate in a uniquely western geography, where public land and designated wilderness can lie literally just over the backyard fence.

The juxtaposition of sagebrush and forest, water and rock, basin and range, valley and peak in such a short distance is exhilarating and intimate. People fall in love with this land. The spine that makes up the Wasatch Range swings from one moun- tain to the next in graceful curves, a loose aggregation of separate mountain blocks, each sliced off in facets by faults and isolated as massifs by canyons and rivers.

The clusters of peaks stand as small choruses—soloists, trios, sometimes a half dozen peaks rounding behind a valley. The Mount Ogden massif stands with a broad base cut cleanly on two sides, north and south, by cold sweet rivers, the Ogden and the Weber. Its ridgeline of airy summits, strung on a single strand between the two can- yons, unites a seventy-square-mile gathering of peaks. To the west the block of mountains falls away to the Great Salt Lake and its desert, plummeting.

Huntsville Salt Lake City. Ogden UTAH. Park City Park City od Can. Heber City Tooele. Utah Lake 0 8 Km. Ogden Valley, on the backside of the mountain, preserves a quintessen- tial western landscape. In this miniature Jackson Hole, thirty square miles of checkerboard pastures scatter in an embracing circle, landmarked by pic- turesque barns and the tree-lined village grids of Huntsville and Eden and Liberty, the Quonset-hut chapel and silo of the Huntsville Trappist Mon- astery, the blue handprint of Pineview Reservoir.

Once you have taken that stride, you enter a zone of unpredictability. You leave a place you believe to be safe—the familiar cocoons of car, house, office—and give yourself to the potency of the mountain, the dangers of wild country.

You add new words to your vocabulary: carnivore, thrill, fear, attack. You allow for the surprise of a cougar, the threat of a moose approached too close. Unlikely, but pos- sible. The mountain has the same duality of gender as the creator who made these landmarks in the Ute and Shoshone homeland. Then Bush --at the very least --is an accessory to mass murder. The State concedes there was not sufficient evidence to convict the defendant of first-degree murder based on premeditation and deliberation, and it was error to so charge.

There was evidence, however, that the defendant was an accessory before the fact to first-degree burglary, as we shall demonstrate later in this opinion. The killing was done during this burglary, which killing would be felony murder. State v. SimmonsN. MARR, No. Section 3. Accessory after the fact Whoever, knowing that an offense against the United States has been committed, receives, relieves, comforts or assists the offender in order to hinder or prevent his apprehension, trial or punishment, is an accessory after the fact.

Except as otherwise expressly provided by any Act of Congress, an accessory after the fact shall be imprisoned not more than one-half the maximum term of imprisonment or notwithstanding section fined not more than one-half the maximum fine prescribed for the punishment of the principal, or both; or if the principal is punishable by life imprisonment or death, the accessory shall be imprisoned not more than 15 years. But is not a run-o-the-mill act of violence to which Bush is prima facie an accessory after the fact.

That changes everything: The Supreme Court sustained a conviction of treason, for the first time in its history, in in Haupt v. United States. Bush ordered the destruction, sale or removal of most of the evidence prior to investigation. Last time I checked, was a crime. This willful cover up of a crime IS a crime. In this case --'obstruction of justice' at the very least!

Brush up your history of Watergate. Whether or not Nixon was complicit in the plot depended upon what he knew and when he knew it, an issue central to the special prosecutor's investigation. Similarly, much of Bush's complicity in depends upon what he knew and when he knew it. If Bush had any knowledge whatsoever of any plot by anyone at any time and failed to act upon it, he should be prosecuted to the letter of the law!

How much we don't know. That sort of scenario does not inspire a great deal of credibility. Indeed, it does not! We might have known what we now 'don't know' had there been the very investigation ofthe various investigations that Bush either overtly and deliberately quashed or failed to support. If I were a juror considering a capital crimes indictment against GWB, I might be swayed not only by Bush's failure to act but his overt actions to quash!

I might be inclined to return: guilty as charged! Late July B : David Schippers, noted conservative Chicago lawyer and the House Judiciary Committee's chief investigator in the Clinton impeachment trial, later claims that FBI agents in Chicago and Minnesota contact him around this time and tell him that a terrorist attack is going to occur in lower Manhattan. According to Schippers, the agents had been developing extensive information on the planned attack for many months.

However, the FBI soon pulls them off the terrorist investigation and threatens them with prosecution under the National Security Act if they go public with the information. Thanks for the article comments Enigma and Mike. There is getting to be a wealth of dirt on McCain coming out. In the United States, for example, criticism of Israel is tantamount to heresy.

Consequently, and without foundation, Carter was branded by many in the American press as a one-sided, anti-Semitic propagandist.

Similarly, Harvard professor Stephen Walt and University of Chicago professor John Mearsheimer were lambasted for a paper the two co-authored that discussed the power of the Israel lobby and its adverse effect on American policy. Additionally, Norman Finkelstein, an esteemed professor at Depaul University and author of the bestselling book, The Holocaust Industry, witnessed a McCarthyite-style campaign mounted against him when he came up for tenure. Predictably, it was Dershowitz who led the anti-tenure campaign against him; ultimately, Finkelstein was not only denied tenure, but he lost his job at Depaul.

The attacks against Carter, Finkelstein, Walt and Mearsheimer serve as a few well-known examples of the consequences writers and intellectuals face when they breach the line and criticize Israel. Furthermore, the condemnation writers and intellectuals of Arab descent face are invariably higher than Jews of conscience, former presidents, and highly regarded academics. As a result, many writers often acquiesce to the demands of the mainstream.

Unsurprisingly, untold Palestinian suffering followed as a result of increased settlement expansion, land confiscation, checkpoints and seizures, and the ultimate failure of Camp David Shying away from perceived controversial matters may help to protect a mainstream career, but the intent of a political analyst should not be to produce works of fiction. A man who combined principle, activism, and human appeal quite masterfully was distinguished educator and commentator, Edward Said.

In the realm of academia and Middle East analysis, Said was by no means viewed as the quintessential radical. Said was still heavily criticized throughout his career and endured incessant attacks by his detractors, yet his accessible personality and articulate message kept him relevant. In recent years, there has been increased emphasis on putative pragmatic dialogue. However, this accentuation on so-called rational and balanced thinking has proven to be little more than a sinister means to pressure the oppressed to accept the position of the oppressor.

This week, Palestinians across the US commemorated 60 years of displacement. Yet, the lens the Palestinian people are expected to look through under the pragmatist vision is one that sees a dispossessed people as necessary victims for a righteous state to take form. Unfortunately, waves of writers and commentators continue to adopt this line in fear of retribution, in exchange for nicer houses and comfortable livings, or a combination of both.

That is their free will. Free speech is not without consequence. Nonetheless, losing piece of mind is the only repercussion a writer should fear. I cant wait to see Obama debate the embalmed zombie toe to toe How to Rule the World After Bush One of the more curious aspects of the Bush years is that the self-proclaimed "uniter" polarized not only American society, but also its business and political elites.

Bush and Dick Cheney leave office—though, given the cast of characters, it could seem like a lifetime. Still, it's a reasonable moment to begin to look back over the last years—and also toward the post-Bush era. What a crater we'll have to climb out of by then! My last post, "Kiss American Security Goodbye," was meant to mark the beginning of what will, over the coming months, be a number of Bush legacy pieces at Tomdispatch.

So consider that series officially inaugurated by Foreign Policy in Focus analyst Mark Engler, who has just authored a new book that couldn't be more relevant to our looming moment of transition: How to Rule the World: The Coming Battle Over the Global Economy. The question Engler is curious to have answered is this: If Bush-style "imperial globalization" is rejected in January, what will American ruling elites try to turn to—Clinton-style economic globalization? Certainly, as Engler points out, many in the business and financial communities are now rallying to the Democrats.

After all, while John Edwards received the headlines this week for throwing his support behind Barack Obama, that presidential candidate also got the nod from three former Securities and Exchange Commission chairmen—William Donaldson, David Ruder, and Clinton appointee Arthur Levitt Jr.

The campaign promptly "released a joint statement by the former SEC chiefs, as well as former Federal Reserve Chairman Paul Volcker, that praised Obama's 'positive leadership and judgment' on economic issues. Now, the world is looking at things much differently. Let Engler explain… Tom Engelhardt How to Rule the World After Bush One of the more curious aspects of the Bush years is that the self-proclaimed "uniter" polarized New Glories (CD) only American society, but also its business and political elites.

Bush has to vacate the Oval Office. It's easy enough to imagine a party marking this fine occasion, with antiwar protestors, civil libertarians, community leaders, environmentalists, health-care advocates, and trade unionists clinking glasses to toast the end of an unfortunate era. Even Americans not normally inclined to political life might be tempted to join the festivities, bringing their own bottles of bubbly to the party. More surprising, however, might be the number of people in the crowd drinking finer brands of champagne.

Amid the populist gala, one might well spot figures of high standing in the corporate world, individuals who once would have looked forward to the reign of an MBA president but now believe that neocon bravado is no way to run an empire. One of the more curious aspects of the Bush years is that the self-proclaimed "uniter" polarized not only American society, but also its business and political elites. These are the types who gather at the annual, ultra-exclusive World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland and have their assistants trade business cards for them.

Yet, despite their sometime chumminess, these powerful few are now in disagreement over how American power should be shaped in the post-Bush era and increasing numbers of them are jumping ship when it comes to the course the Republicans have chosen to advance these last years.

They are now engaged in a debate about how to rule the world. Don't think of this as some conspiratorial plot, but as a perfectly commonsensical debate over what policies are in the best interests of those who hire phalanxes of Washington lobbyists and fill the coffers of presidential and congressional campaigns. Many business leaders have fond memories of the "free trade" years of the Clinton administration, when CEO salaries soared and the global influence of multinational corporations surged.

Rejecting neoconservative unilateralism, they want to see a renewed focus on American "soft power" and its instruments of economic control, such as the World Bank, International Monetary Fund IMFand World Trade Organization WTO —the multilateral institutions that formed what was known in international policy circles as "the Washington Consensus. There is little question that the majority of people on the planet—those who suffered under both the corporate globalization of the Clinton years and the imperial globalization of George W.

Bush—deserve something better. However, it is far from certain that social justice advocates who want to encourage a more democratic approach to world affairs and global economic well-being will be able to sway a new administration. On the other hand, the damage inflicted by eight years of neocon rule and the challenges of an increasingly daunting geopolitical scene present a conundrum to the corporate globalizers: Is it even possible to go back to the way things were?

The Revolt of the Corporatists Throughout their time in office, despite fulsome evidence of failure, George Bush and Dick Cheney have maintained a blithe self-confidence about their ability to successfully promote the interests of the United States, or at least those of their high-rolling "Pioneer"-class donors. Every so often, though, the public receives notice that loyalists are indeed scurrying to abandon the administration's sinking ship of state.

In Octoberfor instance, in a front-page story entitled "GOP Is Losing Grip On Core Business Vote," the Wall Street Journal reported that the party could be facing a brand crisis as "[s]ome business leaders are drifting away from the party because of the war in Iraq, the growing federal debt and a conservative social agenda they don't share.

Such firms have done their best to score quick profits from the military machine. However, there was always a faction of realist, business-oriented Republicans who opposed the invasion from the start, in part because they believed it would negatively impact the U.

As the administration adventure in Iraq has descended into the morass, the ranks of corporate complainers have only grown. The "free trade" elite have become particularly upset about the administration's focus on go-it-alone nationalism and its disregard for multilateral means of securing influence. This belligerent approach to foreign affairs, they believe, has thwarted the advance of corporate globalization. In an April column in the Washington Post, globalist cheerleader Sebastian Mallaby laid blame for "why globalization has stalled" at the feet of the Bush administration.

He wrote: "Fifteen years ago, there were hopes that the end of Cold War splits would allow international institutions to acquire a new cohesion. But the great powers of today are simply not interested in creating a resilient multilateral system The United States remains the only plausible quarterback for the multilateral system. But the Bush administration has alienated too many players to lead the team effectively.

Its strident foreign policy started out as an understandable response to the fecklessness of other powers. But unilateralism has tragically backfired, destroying whatever slim chance there might have been of a workable multilateral alternative. As a measure of this—the capitalist equivalent of voting with their feet—political analyst Kevin Phillips notes in his new book, Bad Money, that, in"[h]edge fund employees' contributions to the Senate Democratic Campaign Committee outnumbered those to its Republican rival by roughly nine to one.

The base of the Democratic Party has clearly rejected the "free trade" version of trickle-down economics, which has done far more to help those hedge-fund managers and private-jet-hopping executives than anyone further down the economic ladder.

As a result, both Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton are running as opponents of the North American Free Trade Agreement NAFTA and of a newer bilateral trade deal with Colombia, a country in which organizing a union or vocally advocating for human rights can easily cost you your life. The tenor of the current campaign represents a significant shift from the s, when top Democrats were constantly trying to establish their corporate bona fides and "triangulate" their way into conservative economic policy.

Still, both candidates are surrounded by business-friendly advisors whose views fit nicely within an older, pre-Bush administration paradigm of corporate globalization. The tension between the anti-NAFTA activists at the base of the Party and those in the campaign war rooms has resulted in some embarrassing gaffes during the primary contest.

For Hillary Clinton, the most notable involved one of her chief strategists, Mark Penn, a man with a long, nefarious record defending corporate abuses as a Washington lobbyist. Even as Clinton was proclaiming her heartfelt opposition to the deal and highlighting the "history of suppression and targeted killings of labor organizers" in that country, a key player in her campaign was charting strategy with Colombian government officials in order to get the pact passed.

The Obama campaign found itself in similar discomfort in February. While the candidate was running in the Ohio primary as an opponent of NAFTA, calling that trade deal a "mistake" that has harmed working people, his senior economic policy adviser, University of Chicago professor Austan Goolsbee, was meeting with Canadian government officials to explain, as a memo by the Canadians reported, that Obama's charges were merely "political positioning.

Why, for example, had Goolsbee, senior economist to the Democratic Leadership Council, the leading organization on the corporate-friendly rightwing of the party, and a person praised as "a valuable source of free-trade advice over almost a decade," been positioned to mold Obama's economic stances in the first place? If pressure from the base of the party lets up after the elections, it would hardly be surprising to see a victorious candidate revert to Bill Clinton's corporate model for how to rule the world.

However, a return to a pre-Bush-style of international politics may be easier dreamed than done. The Neocon Paradox To the chagrin of the "free trade" elite, the market fundamentalist ideas that have dominated international development thinking for at least the last 25 years are now under attack globally.

This is largely because the economic prescriptions of deregulation, privatization, open markets, and cuts to social services so often made and enforced by the International Monetary Fund and World Bank have proven catastrophic. The British Guardian summarized well the essence of this report: "Taking issue with those who have argued that the 'tough love' policies of the past two decades have spawned the growth of a new global middle class, the report says the world became ever more divided between the super-rich and the desperately poor.

The countries burned by the Asian financial crisis offor instance, are now building up huge currency reserves so they never again have to come begging to the International Monetary Fund and so suffer diktats from Washington in times of crisis. Moreover, virtually the whole of Latin America is in revolt. Over million people reside in that region, and over two-thirds of them now live under governments elected since on mandates to split with "free trade" economics, declare independence from Washington, and pursue policies that actually benefit the poor.

In late April, economist Mark Weisbrot noted that, with so many countries breaking free of its grasp, the IMF, which once dictated economic policy to strapped governments around the world, is now but a shadow of its former self.

This leaves the U. Treasury, which used the body to control foreign economies, with far less power than in past decades. Back inBritish journalist George Monbiot dubbed this "the unacknowledged paradox in neocon thinking. What they fail to understand is that the 'multilateral' system is in fact a projection of U. Like their opponents, the neocons fail to understand how well [Presidents] Roosevelt and Truman stitched up the international order. They are seeking to replace a hegemonic system that is enduring and effective with one that is untested and because other nations must fight it unstable.

And yet, there is no guarantee that the coming era will produce a change for the better. But the failure of these options will undoubtedly not be for lack of trying. Even with corporate globalization on the decline, multinational businesses will attempt to consolidate or expand their power. And even with the imperial model of globalization discredited, an overextended U. The true Bush administration legacy may be to leave us in a world that is at once far more open to change and also far more dangerous.

Such prospects should hardly discourage the long-awaited celebration in January. But they suggest that a new era of globalization battles—struggles to build a world order based neither on corporate influence, nor imperial might—will have only just begun. I really like how Obama has been engaging McSame A Commodity Called Trust - Toe To Toe - Old Scores the Idiot in Chief and taking the fight to them! Larry did you watch that video i posted, if you didnt, take the time and watch the entire thing!

Meanwhile, McCain has stuck to his stance of not criticizing Parsley, an important political ally in a crucial swing state. In March —two weeks after McCain appeared with Parsley at a Cincinnati campaign rally, hailing him as "one of the truly great leaders in America, a moral compass, a spiritual guide"—Mother Jones reported that Parsley had urged Christians to wage a "war" to eradicate Islam in his book.

McCain's campaign refused to respond to questions about Parsley, and the presumptive Republican presidential nominee declined to denounce Parsley's anti-Islam remarks or renounce his endorsement. At a time when Barack Obama was mired in a searing controversy involving Reverend Jeremiah Wright, McCain escaped any trouble for his political alliance with Parsley, who leads the World Harvest Church, a supersized Pentecostal institution in Columbus, Ohio.

Parsley, whose sermons are broadcast around the world, has been credited with helping George W. Bush win Ohio in by registering social conservatives and encouraging them to vote. McCain certainly would like to see Parsley do the same for him—which could explain his reluctance to do any harm to his relationship with this anti-Islam extremist.

That we see it for what it really is. In fact I do not believe that our nation can truly fulfill its divine purpose until we understand our historical conflict with Islam…I know that this statement sounds extreme. But I am not shrinking back from its implications. The fact is that America was founded in part with the intention of seeing this false religion destroyed. And I believe September 11,was a generational call to arms that we no longer can afford to ignore.

He repeatedly refers to the United States' "historic conflict with Islam," and adds, "We have no choice. The time has come. In fact, we may be already losing the battle. As I scan the world, I find that Islam at this moment is responsible for more pain, more bloodshed, more devastation than nearly any other force on Earth. Since September 11,34, Americans have become Muslims This means that thousands of Americans have embraced the very religion that inspired the worst assault upon their nation in a generation.

Did you know that there are some 1, mosques in America? Twenty-five percent of which have been built since Did you know that there are nearly a billion and a half Muslims in the world But how would you know it?

After all, it's not in People magazine. According to Parsley, there's no coexisitng with Muslims. He tells the tale of a Christian man who once dared to sell land to a mosque rather than to a church—an ominous sign that Christianity is losing the struggle against Islam.

America has historically understood herself to be a bastion against Islam in the world…History is crashing in upon us Americans need to wake up We can tell you Britney Spears' lyrics to her latest CD. But we don't know anything about other religions Excuse me.

The fact is that Americans are woefully ignorant of other faiths. This is not only tragic. But when it comes to Islam, now the greatest religious enemy of our civilization and the world, it's dangerous.

The problem, Parsley insists, is not radical Muslims who have hijacked a faith, but the religion itself: I must state three important truths Bush, I support you.

Did you get those three truths? In a long riff, Parsley maintains that Muhammad was New Glories (CD) by a demon into believing that he had heard the word of God.

Thus, he asserts, the entire religion of Islam is based upon a satanic deception: "Muhammad was tragically beset by a demon which he mistook for the living God. He thus became a mouthpiece of a conspiracy of spiritual evil There are so few who will talk about [this]. And he also readily offered McCain his endorsement during that February 26,campaign rally in Cincinnati. At the event, McCain extolled Parsley for his "leadership" and "guidance.

And they have dismissed any comparison between Reverend Wright and Reverend Parsley, noting that McCain has never attended a service conducted by Parsley. But imagine if Barack Obama had campaigned with an imam who had called for destroying Christianity. A media and political uproar would ensue—with wide-ranging calls for Obama to condemn the imam. McCain has also refused to reject the endorsement he received from the Reverend John Hagee, a Texas-based televangelist who referred to the Catholic Church as "the great whore" and a "false cult system" and who called Hurricane Katrina retribution from God for the sins of New Orleans' homosexual residents.

But Parsley may be the more politically crucial pastor for McCain. McCain probably cannot win Ohio in November without the support of large numbers of social conservative voters.

InParsley, whose megachurch boasts thousands of members, led so-called values voters to the polls, where they helped propel George W. Bush to victory over John Kerry. If McCain were to repudiate Parsley, he would risk losing Parsley as a surrogate and, perhaps worse, alienate his flock. So McCain has ducked, keeping quiet about an anti-Islam extremist who repeatedly proclaims in sermons, "I will be silent no more.

The thing is the MSM will TRY as hard as they possibly can to protect the angry old man and to smear Obama and i still dont know if it will work Obama would make that old fool look like an idiot when he is trying to debate GWB's lies spin and talking points and Obama is debating facts. Just look at the way be backhanded Bush and McSame with that "appeasement" gaffe of theirs That just shows the repugs have nothing and cant compete on REAL issues so they have to deflect and derail with smears and personal attacks just like the trolls do on here I'm sorry I think i have to go puke,,,,,the Black Knight I think its funny at least!

Having Rove praise you is sure something to brag about to a world that hates him. Psycho Christians and the media Why the press gives McCain a pass for consorting with rightwing holy men, but condemns Obama to talk-show hell for the same sin. First, there's the Rev. John Hagee, a hate-monger and certifiable loon who believes that Hurricane Katrina was God's judgment on New Orleans for planning a gay parade, calls Catholicism a "false cult system" that conspired with Hitler to exterminate the Jews, and believes that America's divine duty is to destroy Iran.

Then there's the Rev. Rod Parsley, who garnishes his bigoted theology by calling Islam "the greatest religious enemy of our civilization and the world" and saying that Muhammad was "a mouthpiece of a conspiracy of spiritual evil. Francis of Assisi. They are undiluted bigots who espouse beliefs just as twisted as those promulgated by the Rev.

Louis Farrakhan -- and far more toxic and extreme than those held by Rev. Jeremiah Wright. Yet, as many media critics have noted, no major-network interviewer is demanding that McCain denounce Hagee or Parsley, as Tim Russert infamously demanded again and again that Obama do of Farrakhan during a prime-time debate. Considering that McCain desperately needs Hagee and Parsley to deliver votes in key states like Ohio, this is no small matter.

Obama's personal relationship with Wright raised more legitimate questions than were raised by McCain's actively seeking Hagee's endorsement. But especially during the second, more serious outburst of Wright-hysteria, after Wright went off the reservation at the National Press Club, it was obvious that the story had really shifted to Wright, not Obama.

The brouhaha was a media ritual, in which Obama was required to sacrifice an unseemly political ally as a kind of campaign station of the cross. Obama had already given his now-famous speech about race in Philadelphia, and no one seriously believed that he shared Wright's views. In any case, even if Hagee and Parsley had been McCain's pastors, it's hard to imagine that the media would have attacked him as relentlessly as it has attacked Obama over Wright and Farrakhan.

The media's double standard is all about deference to perceived mainstream norms, and tiptoeing around the Christian right. Despite their cartoonish views, the media treats Hagee and Parsley as quasi-mainstream figures, which makes McCain's relationship with them non-newsworthy.

The dirty little secret of mainstream American journalism is that it operates within invisible constraints that conform to some imagined Middle American consensus.

The issue isn't that journalists share Hagee and Parsley's views so much as that they know that they are widely held, which makes them reluctant to acknowledge how truly outrageous they are. After years of nodding at the whacked-out likes of Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, the media has, to borrow Daniel Patrick Moynihan's famous phrase, defined right-wing religious deviancy down. More or less "orthodox" Christian-right insanity, of the sort espoused by Hagee and Parsley, is familiar and normal, whereas black-church radicalism, with its ties to left-wing liberation theology, is not.

In45 percent of the population told Gallup they were either born-again or evangelical Christians. The question of "newsworthiness" is one of the blind spots of conventional journalism. Since right-wing religious leaders have been endorsing conservative Republican candidates for decades Moral Majority founder Jerry Falwell endorsed Ronald Reagan; Pat Robertson endorsed Rudy Giuliani; a small church in North Carolina kicked out members who voted for John Kerrywhen another one does it, it's a dog-bites-man story.

Mainstream editors and reporters pose as hard-bitten realists, but they are in fact reluctant to deviate from pack thinking.

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