The 1st 28 Questions For Kerry

By George F. Will
Sunday, February 15, 2004; Page B07


In the more than 250 days until Nov. 2, John Kerry can answer questions that linger despite, or because of, all he has said so far. Such as:


Other than denoting your disapproval, what does the adjective mean in the phrase "special interest"? Is the National Education Association a special interest? The AFL-CIO?

You abhor "special tax giveaways for the privileged and special interests." When supporting billions in ethanol subsidies, mostly for agribusinesses, did you think about corn-growing, caucus-holding Iowa?

Is the National Rifle Association a "special interest"? Is "special" a synonym for "conservative"?

When you denounce "lobbyists" do you include those for Planned Parenthood and the Sierra Club? Is "liberal lobbyist" an oxymoron?

All the Americans affected by laws you pass -- that is, all Americans -- refuse to pipe down and mind their own business so that you can mind their business for them. Often they hire lobbyists to exercise their First Amendment right to "petition the government for a redress of grievances." Can you despise lobbyists without disparaging that right?

You say the rich do not pay enough taxes. In 1979 the top 1 percent of earners paid 19.75 percent of income taxes. Today they pay 36.3 percent. How much is enough?

You say the federal government is not spending enough on education. President Bush has increased education spending 48 percent. How much is enough?

In January 1991, after Iraq extinguished Kuwait's sovereignty, you opposed responding with force rather than economic sanctions. Have such sanctions ever undone such aggression?

On Jan. 11, 1991, you said that going to war was abandoning "the theory of deterrence." Was it not a tad late to deter Iraqi aggression?

The next day you said, "I do not believe our nation is prepared for war." How did unpreparedness subsequently manifest itself?

On Jan. 22, 1991, responding to a constituent opposed to the Persian Gulf War, you wrote "I share your concerns" and would have given sanctions more time. Nine days later, responding to a voter who favored the war, you wrote, "I have strongly and unequivocally supported President Bush's response to the crisis." Did you have a third position?

You say the Bush administration questions "the patriotism" of its critics. You say that as president you will "appoint a U.S. trade representative who is an American patriot." You mean the current representative, Robert Zoellick, is not a patriot?

You strongly praise former Treasury secretary Bob Rubin, who strongly supports NAFTA and free trade. Have you changed your mind about him or about free trade (as you have changed your mind about the No Child Left Behind Act, the 2002 war resolution, the Patriot Act, etc.)?

You oppose immediate termination of U.S. involvement in Iraq, and you opposed the $87 billion to pay for involvement. Come again?


In 1994, the year after the first attack on the World Trade Center, you voted to cut $1 billion from counterterrorism activities. In 1995 you proposed a $1.5 billion cut in intelligence funding. Are you now glad that both proposals were defeated?

You favor civil unions but not same-sex marriage. What is the difference? What consequences of gay marriage worry you? Your state's highest court says marriage is "an evolving paradigm." Do you agree? You say you agree with what Dick Cheney said in 2000: States should have a right to "come to different conclusions" about same-sex marriage. Why, then, were you one of only 14 senators who opposed the Defense of Marriage Act, which protects that right? Massachusetts opponents of the same-sex ruling are moving for a referendum to amend the state constitution to define marriage as between a man and a woman. How will you vote?

You favor full disclosure of political spending. Organized labor is fighting new regulations requiring full disclosure to union members of the political uses of their mandatory union dues. As president, would you rescind these regulations?

Praising McCain-Feingold restrictions on political contributions, you said: "This bill reduces the power of the checkbook, and I will therefore support it." In December you saved your sagging campaign by writing it a $6.4 million check. Why is your checkbook's unfettered freedom wholesome?

You deny that restricting campaign contributions restricts speech. How much of the $6.4 million did you spend on speech -- in the form of broadcast messages?

Billionaire George Soros says he will spend whatever is necessary to defeat President Bush. As one who believes -- well, who says -- there is "too much money" in politics, are you appalled?

There are 28 more questions where these 28 came from.

Yeah

this week sucked.

short and sweet.

They Forgot About Van

In my younger and more vulnerable years (quick little joke for those of whom have read The Great Gatsby) my family would always venture in the vast expanses of western Michigan. Trust me - this was no simple trek. Let's put it this way: Meriwether Lewis & William Clark have nothing on us. Loading up the good old rental car (we were forced to rent because our otherwise trusty 92 Aerostar couldn't handle the treacherous journey), we'd pile in, with our pillows and Ernie's and Bert's, and prepare for the trip of a lifetime. Good times Galore when the Moylan's Vacation. Oh yeah. Well, needless to say, the pre-road excitement was little less than short lived. It wasn't long before we were headed to Toledo, rather than the intended destination; which was 300 miles in the opposite direction. And it was never uncommon, over the discourse of our merry exploits, to find myself in the middle of a wonderfully intense "discussion" between my two parents. Ahh, the memories. But it's unfair of me to paint this picture. Our vacations are always unbelievable - even if we spend the brunt majority of the time in disarray. Yet, one thing we could always agree on was music. The melodious sounds of Elvis Presley, some of the Fureys, Christy Moore, and the one and only Van Morrison. I haven't listened to a Van song in God-knows-how-long, and, to be quite honest, I miss it. Now, I know you're all probably wondering, 'where the hell did this thought come from', but fear not, I will supply the answer. As I sat on the toilet, doing the deed, as you might say, I was playing my guitar when it became rather obvious that my entire leg had fallen to sleep. I put my guitar against the wall and bounced my leg up and down - hoping to obtain some semblance of feeling. It turns out that as I was stomping, Van just happened to be slipping into my head - filling my brain with the sweet sounds of "It Stoned Me". What a great song. I'm imagining that all of you readers have no idea how this song goes, but, sadly, that's not my problem. I can't be expected to sing it to you, that's just pathetic. I don't really want to copy and paste lyrics either. So, I guess that just leaves you to your principles. If you're curiosity gets the best of you, leading you to ask someone who owns a Van Morrison CD if you, perchance, could steal a listen, then it's entirely for your benefit.

Trust me. Would I tell you anything less?

Taking The Time

Somebody once told me, many moons ago (the day before yesterday), that "you're never going to have time if you don't take it." I'll pause for a brief moment to let the sheer truth of that statement sink in. ( P A U S E ). Feelin' it? Thought so. I suppose it's different for other people, but I'm just going to assume that everyone on this green globe (all of whom read my blog) can directly relate to what I'm saying. Let's think about it. Who hasn't been so consumed by meaningless activites and programs that they don't have to time to think, let alone take care of themselves. A note to the lazy: just ignore this blog - you more than likely have no clue as to what I'm saying. Not a day goes by when I don't sit somewhere, allowing my mind to wander to the inner-most regions of the thought process, and become overwhelmed by ideas and images. Can I say I don't like it - yeah, sometimes.

I suppose that down-time is probably the worst thing for mental stability. Picture this. There I am, lounging on my couch, in silence, coldly alone. I'm sitting there, as blank as John Kerry's personality, and basically letting my brain do the working. In mere seconds I can explore thoughts I never knew I had, and then I realize one thing. If I'm going to sit back and just feel sorry for myself, for whatever reason, I'm just wasting precious seconds of a life that's already much too short. Self-pity never got anyone anywhere. Poor me, woe is me, watch my tears; they fall to the dirt as groveling peasants buckle of hunger. Get over it. If I can't take some time - a few precious seconds to stop dwelling on problems and actually attempt to deal with them - then how do I expect to improve? How am I, who's so focused on recognizing what's wrong and not making any effort to improve the situation, supposed to expect some sort of relief? I can't. Why? Because it won't come. It's wholly unfair to expect time to better ourselves. This isn't a communist system. The government is never going to issue you a nice little block of five daily minutes to focus on yourself - it just isn't going to happen.

To make some time, take some time.

Have a good one.

Another One

Hey everyone, just another update to let everyone know I'm still alive! WOO! But, I'm just here to post another sonnet. I wrote another one tonight, and that's what I'll queue up for you guys. Enjoy



Sonnet 11

What’s that among the garden do I see,
Whose strength survives a life borne out of thorns,
Who holds her throne of banners burgundy
With blood of all the lovers that she scorns?
Tis her above, in roseate gowns aglow,
Majestic garments draped about her frame,
With gilded lilies bowing down below
To fuel the source of Beauty’s humble flame.
Now who along the garden makes her start,
With auburn locks of beauty from her crown,
And holds her throne within my thriving heart,
And with these crimson banners makes her gown?
Tis her who takes the rose within her hand,
A simple prop for beauty oh so grand.

What's All The Fuss About

I'm going out on a limb as to guess the number of annual readers I have. Maybe I can't guesstimate my way out of a paperbag soaked in grease, but something of the 1-2 tune sounds reasonable. In turn, I really don't even know who reads this, let alone what they like to hear (besides the many facets of my life). Erego, it's rather difficult for me to write for a certain crowd, so, I've come up with one basic solution: to hell with the rest of you, I'll write for me! Sounds good? What's that? I can't hear. Yes, you in the back, next to the man with the clay aiken shirt - you don't know what I said? Oh, that's good.

Well, tonight was the night of a few major primaries around the country. I'm sure all you political activists out there know that this could mean prostitution levels of intimacy with disaster for the select few of those unlucky candidates. Poor Joe dropped out, leaving the reeling screamer, Dr. Dean, to fight off Kerry and Edwards. So much for Dean's rise to the summit of democratic prowess. Ok, I'll be completely honest with you. I really don't care what the fantastically liberal Dean does, or how he ends up, or, you know, I'm not in the mood to talk about it right now. So, I will leave you all with another sonnet. Unfortunately, those of you who were expecting Sonnet 2 to follow up the epic smash, Sonnet 1, you will be disappointed. But cry your tears, Casanova, I'll fill your heart with joy yet, just trust me.

Take it easy everyone. Enjoy.

Sonnet 8

I sit in earnest hope, in wanting light,
Much like a barren desert longs for shore
And ceases not to crave of rain's delight.
It's emptiness in plenty evermore.
The truth does rain upon my heart, but yet,
This truth is never gentle to the taste.
It's poison been forbidding me to set
My loving arms around its toxic waist.
Yet wrap my wounds and force the march I must,
This battle's never won, I will concede.
But capitulation never will I trust
When hope exists that someday I'll succeed.
A lifetime's worth of hardships I will take,
For love is worth my body to forsake.

Endure Them For My Sake

Hey everyone! Hope everybody's doing good! I must say, however, that I have to cut the pleasantries short. Enough chit-chat. Let's get down to business.

I just want to use my blog space to share the sonnets I've written. If you don't like them, eh, I don't care. But If you do, that's very cool. I could use some feedback, so just tell me what you think! I'll post one everyday or so...Just check the archives later on if you're looking for one in particular.

Sonnet 1

Upon deaf ears complaints they rain from high.
My eyes are closed and ears they do not hear.
My heart now cries to distance much too dear,
And ill-tongued words are spoken as goodbye.
My love, I wish forever time would die
To waves of peace and vision oh so clear,
To lift us up and keep us safe from fear,
So seconds would not damn our love to cry.
Yet fear my keep my heart from being cold,
Where heated coal is placed for which to burn
The truths of love so deep I can't abhor.
But safety calls, in beauty not so bold,
To hide my love so men may never learn.
So some might say I'd love again no more.