Back in 2004 when this blog was merely a mewling digital infant instead of the precocious trouble-making toddler that it is today, I wrote briefly about manufacturing consent. The media you choose to consume -- especially news media that used to be known as more trustworthy sources of information than they are today -- does have an impact on your opinion of the world. If you've never heard of Noam Chomsky, check out that entry from 2004 and click through some of those links. I tried to alert any readers of this blog about the war propaganda in mass media.
Having some prior knowledge of the mechanics of military psychological operations (psyop), it seemed obvious to me that something was going on in the mass media that was molding the opinions of people with whom I'd have conversations about the subjects surrounding our U.S. foreign policy.
I'm a C-Span geek and an intelligence wonk. So, when someone sounded like Donald Rumsfeld's mindless parrot in conversations with me at that time, I chalked it up to ignorance. However, when I tried to explain the differences between secular muslims and extremist wahhabi/salafists, or the machinations of Darth Cheney's Office of Special Plans in the Pentagon, or what a National Intelligence Estimate is -- my one voice could not compete with the 24/7 cable news that was shoving propaganda into some of my friends' minds.
It has just been recently revealed last month that the Pentagon did indeed have a domestic propaganda program. It consisted of an influencial group of high-ranking retired military personnel who would cheerlead for the war as so-called experts on all of the U.S. radio and television media outlets. If you missed that story, it's likely because the corporate media is either a little embarrassed that they were fooled or they were (and continue to be) willing accomplices in the deception of the American people, then and even now.
Unfortunately, I've even lost contact with some of those good friends because I was telling people that Bush/Cheney was lying to all of us and I was screaming what a mistake the so-called Operation Iraqi Freedom Bushworld mis-adventure was at a time when people simply didn't want to hear it. They didn't want to hear that their own beliefs were wrong, even though their worldview had been shaped by propaganda and wrapped in false patriotism or some not-so-subtle form of xenophobic Christianity.
Remember Bush/Cheney constantly talking about so-called "Islamofascists" for a good little while there? It was the psychopathic PNAC neo-con, Norman Podhoretz, who pushed that terminology. His step son, Elliot Abrams, although a convicted criminal from back in the Iran-Contra days, continues to work in the Bush administration. Podhoretz continues to press Bushworld to bomb Iran.
It's not entirely my friends' fault that they were Neo-Conned. People are defrauded by con-men (Scott McClellan – What Happened) everyday. At the same, they probably wouldn't like to admit that they were victims of a psyop, then or even now. Who really wants to admit that they have been mind-raped?
"It is my belief that the Bush Administration was fixated on Iraq, and used the 9/11 attacks by al Qa'ida as justification for overthrowing Saddam Hussein. To accomplish this, top Administration officials made repeated statements that falsely linked Iraq and al Qa'ida as a single threat and insinuated that Iraq played a role in 9/11. Sadly, the Bush Administration led the nation into war under false pretenses."
No shit, Sherlock. Thanks so much for the frakkin' timely truth update there, Senator. It's a little too late to save the lives of over 4000 Americans and at least 100,000 Iraqis, though. Isn't it?
However, it's not too late to save the lives of additional people in the United States, or in Iraq, or even in Iran. And it's never too late to hold the Bushworld murderers accountable because the crime of murder absolutely has no statute of limitations. All it takes is a population of people who pay attention and give a damn.
Generational or Apathetic Sheeple?
If you don't have the time to make a nutritious home-cooked meal for yourself or your family, you will likely stop at any one of a thousand fast food restaurants and grab some grub. The same is true for news, if one casually scrutinizes the media consumption habits of most people. You're busy. You may just catch part of a local TV news broadcast as you shove french fries into your pie hole on any given evening.
This is my best analogy for you to remember. Local TV news is like fast food. It's produced by only one of the six huge media corporations, and it's going to eventually kill you, if that's all you consume.
In the good-old-days of yore, people respected the nightly news. Older people these days are watching FOX news and they think they are being told the truth. I fully expect that they will vote for John McCain in November -- simply because they don't Google, they don't read, they don't research, they don't even realize that Barack Obama is not secretly a Muslim. /eye roll They're easily scared and they're easily manipulated as consumers of mass media -- or old media.
Corporate mass media is fast food infotainment for your mind. Just because it tastes good today doesn't mean that it's not going to clog the arteries of your brain eventually. Friendly warning, from me to you. If you need some examples, check MediaMatters for lies, distortions, and incompetence.
Jose Antonio Vargas is one of my online friends on the social networking web site Facebook. He has been writing about the synergies of new digital media and politics as a reporter for the Washington Post newspaper for about two years. I encourage you to check out his published articles because they are very astute and timely for the politics of this year's historic election for president of the United States. Oh, and he snagged a Pulitzer Prize in April 2008.
He recently wrote the article "Something Just Clicked" last week that really, honestly, gives me some hope that some people do give a damn. Not only does the story of Linnie Bailey show how one person CAN make a difference once they shed their apathy and get involved, but also how the internet has become a useful tool to do so.
Go right now and read it. An informed and activist citizenry is the only thing necessary for we the people to take our country back from the hands of the current sociopathic criminals holding power in Washington D.C.
[quote of the moment] Things have got to change. But first, you've gotta get mad!... You've got to say, 'I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!' Then we'll figure out what to do about the depression and the inflation and the oil crisis. – Howard Beale, Network (1976)
Wicked weather rampaged through much of the Midwest of the United States over the weekend. Tornadoes and flash floods caused death, injury and wide-spread property damage. Having spent most of my life in the Metro Detroit area, I know well the havoc weather can cause to homeowners.
My garage was chock-full of home repair and maintenance tools and supplies. I regularly had to crank up the chainsaw and drag out one of several huge blue tarps when a tree branch crashed into the roof of my own house or someone else's house. Trying to stand on an icy roof with a buzzing chainsaw after an ice storm or struggling with 1200 square feet of blue tarp in high winds are memories that I'm hopeful I don't have to relive anytime soon.
And now for something completely different
The blue tarp on the house pictured above isn't there because of weather. Nope. It's there because a mentally disturbed man, Sloan Carafello, of Schenedacty, New York decided to commit suicide by jumping out of a Cessna airplane without a parachute from 10,000 feet.
According to Scott Waldman of the Albany Times Union, Carafello told a local skydiving club that he wanted to take photos for a class project. He attempted to hitch a ride last weekend, but arrived after the last flight had gone up. Carafello, 29, was not likely in any school as he lived at the YMCA and worked in a fish market.
The videographer captured Carafello's jump in his camera's frame as he was attempting to get another shot of the plane. The video, which has been turned over to state police, shows Carafello taking pictures of himself with a camera while in the air. Rawlins said the videographer told him that Carafello laid still on his back while falling.
I have some questions
Neither newspaper labelled Carafello as being mentally disturbed, but if you read both short articles, they drop some big clues. It's really a shame that Ronald Reagan gutted the mental healthcare system in our country. I remember hearing about stories in Detroit as state mental healthcare facilities were de-funded and boarded up and mental ill patient residents were literally left on the sidewalk for relatives to pick up.
Question one:
When are we going to shed the Bush World bullshit idea of compassionate conservatism where the only people who are helped are the share holders of private corporations who run jails instead of treatment facilities?
Question two:
Did Carafello's camera survive impact and who has it? Those are some unique, one-of-a-kind photos.
Question three:
How soon before the New York state police release the videographer's footage and when can I see it on YouTube?
Question four:
When Hunter S. Thompson shot himself, he left instructions for his cremated remains to be shot out of a cannon on his Owl ranch. Sloan Carafello should get some morbid bonus points for creativity. Who has his spiral notebook with the constant little note-taking?
Question five:
Why does this mostly unreported story fascinate me so damn much?
I think it is because Carafello was an unknown, overlooked person even among the people whom he saw everyday. And, unlike the spree murderer, such as the recent mass stabbing incident in Tokyo, Carafello didn't kill anyone else after he decided to kill himself.
At the same time, I certainly wouldn't want to be the contractor who was tasked to clean up that upstairs bedroom or fix that roof in New York. I wouldn't want to be that homeowner either. Yuck.
Verdad! Sleep Dealer looks like a really cool Sci-Fi movie. It won a Sundance Film Festival award and the buzz for the film is increasing. The video above is an interview with the leading actors.
Fear not, my monolingual friends. The film does have English subtitles. Watch Amanda Palmer interview Sleep Dealer filmmaker, Alex Rivera, below (in English).
Wow! I really like near-future Sci-Fi that brings elements of our current technology, politics and society and simply extrapolates it. Did you see how the lead actress plugs in and posts to her blog?
View the above video to see the typical human reaction to an opossum encounter. Listen to the guy's voice. Listen to what he says about the critter. I laughed so hard.
Just two weeks ago, Abby had an opossum encounter in her garage. So, last night was my turn, apparently. Click on the little image on the left to see the opossum in my story.
Last night I was chilling out in my bathrobe, sitting in my big overstuffed chair in front of the computer, and reading something online. Suddenly, my mellow mood was disturbed by, "crunch, crunch, CRUNCH."
I had just filled the cat's bowl a few minutes before I sat down, so I wasn't very concerned initially. However, when I turned my head and saw the cat sleeping on the kitchen chair, a quick chill ran right through me.
I slowly got up and carefully creeped down the hallway ... OMFG!!
This thing was sitting up on its hind legs with cat food in its front paws casually munching away ... in my house!! I blurted out a loud, "WTF!"
Acknowledging my presence, it stopped eating, turned away from me, and meandered under the sliding pocket door ... into my bedroom. I yelped out a second loud "WTF!!"
What to do, what to do, what to do?
Think, think think! Now, remember, it's late at night. The whole neighborhood is fast asleep. I'm standing in the hallway, feeling very vulnerable in my socks and bathrobe.
Step 1: Fling the door open, turn on the light, and quickly grab the 9mm on the night stand.
Okay, I don't see the critter anywhere. It's probably under the bed.
Step 2: Close the door.
I calm down a few notches, clear the 9mm and put it on the desk. I discard the shooting-little-critters-inside-the-house idea. It's late. I'd probably miss and put a hole in my refrigerator, anyway.
I decide instead to grab a few books from an encyclopedia set — ironically published by the National Geographic Society — and just block the critter in the bedroom for the night. I can sleep on the couch. In the morning, I'll just get with the neighbor and go buy a trap when the store is open. I already know what it likes to eat. *sigh*
It's never over when you think it is
After blockading the little space under the door to the bedroom with the books, I walked over to the cat who was now awake. I gave her a piece of my mind, flipped the chair, and told her to go lay down by her food. Her new litterbox house is there. She likes to lay on top of it. That's one of her spots.
Now here's the thing. I live in Florida. The cat will wake me up in the middle of the night because she is crashing around the house chasing some bug or a little lizard that found its way inside. The lizards and palmetto bugs are the worst. They're hard to catch because they can both run very fast -- even upside down on the ceiling. I have to catch it, or the cat will never let me sleep.
"Crunch, crunch, CRUNCH."
I look over expecting to see the cat eating. Of course not. The cat is sitting on top of her little litterbox house calmly watching her new friend eat her food below her ... in my house. Sonofabitch!
I grab a little plastic bucket in the kitchen and scurry down the hallway. Critter goes back under the door into the bedroom. I stopped at the doorway to yell at the cat for remaining so uninterested in the whole situation. "You didn't even meow!"
I fling the door open and the critter calmly looks over at me. It's on the nightstand. As soon as I enter the bedroom, it slowly meanders between the head of the bed and the wall. My idea of waiting until morning to trash my bedroom is now over.
I violently throw the pillows and bed linens across the room. Luckily, the critter couldn't go under the bed and it scurries across the mattress. I slam the bucket on top of it. I stand there with my hand on the bucket for a full five minutes to allow my heart to stop beating at the cardiac arrest rate.
Then, I realize something. What the hell am I going to do now? I've got an opossum under a plastic bucket on my mattress. I can't take my hand off of the bucket. It's too late to call anyone for help. The cat has been useless as a helper.
At this point, I'm looking wildly around the room and having a silent dialogue in my head with the critter under the bucket. Are there more of you in here? How did you get in my frakkin' house? What can I reach from here to slide under this bucket and get you out of here?
I spot a plastic storage container under the nightstand. I flick the lid off and throw the contents across the room. I kick stuff out of the way and set the container on the floor. I start to slide the upside-down bucket full of critter across the mattress. It growls loudly in disapproval of my idea.
I drop the bucket and critter inside the storage container and put the lid on it. *whew!* I am a can-do guy (with an apparently useless cat).
Marsupialogue
Even though it was late, I got dressed and went over to the neighbor's house. She was in her nightgown, getting ready to go to sleep, but she came to the door. I had removed the bucket from the container.
She jumped back and slammed her door shut. I nearly peed myself laughing at her distress after what I had just gone through in my house.
She was nice enough to chat with me for a little while until we both calmed down. I was pretty hyper. I let her look at the critter and dispel some of her initial fear. I actually fed it some cat food while I sipped some vodka and smoked a few cigarettes.
I needed to borrow her golf cart for a short trip. I drove out to the woods and unceremoniously tossed the critter into its new habitat. After my midnight marsupial run to the back forty woods, I made some ramen noodles and fell asleep ... on the couch.
