The Definitions of Power

As we are beginning to learn, what constitutes Right or Wrong in government (and this includes the White House, regardless the occupant), can be manipulated by creative definitions.

The latest example being our current President's defining of 'hostilities' in the context of the War Powers Act. It seems if we are engaged in 'hostilities', the President must obtain the approval of Congress within 90 days after the start of the action. Given this President and this House of Representatives, that would be an uneasy situation, so the Prez avoids the confrontation by declaring the action not to meet the definition of 'hostilities'.

Apparently, to be hostile according to the White House, your real troops must have their actual boots on the ground in the exact place where the action is occurring. Boots comfortably planted on US territory while their owners control guided unmanned drones and fire missiles at the 'targets' isn't considered to be engaging in 'hostilities' - even though the suddenly dead occupants of blown-up buildings might argue that point, had they been given the opportunity.

Just in case you've been sleeping and haven't noticed, this 'debate' is happening right now over our involvement in Libya.

I'd like to believe this situation will spur another, broader, debate over the meaning of what is meant by 'effective' in the context of our government ...

Friends On The Ride

If you participate in an activity that most people find dangerous and inexplicable, you make acquaintances. Often, you find Friends.

This is what has happened in my passionate pursuit of riding motorcycles.

These Friends may be other Riders, or just people who like bikes. They may be met in person, or in an online forum for enthusiasts. The Friendships may be barely more than acquaintances, or they may be deep indeed.

When non-Riders overhear our conversations, they think we're nuts. How can people talk so long and fervently about 'slipper clutches', 'helmet cams', and torque curves? Why do bikers get so excited about the scary act of flying through a twisty bend at a healthy lean angle? Just what is 'lean angle' and what's so darn 'healthy' about it?

Non-Riders will instantly browse away from any motorcycle forum they may accidentally land on. If they don't, they'll be perplexed by the threads, which carry meaning only for the initiated and truly obsessed.

Shared passions and outsider status can bond people, who might otherwise share no common ground.

Which pretty much describes us - Friends on The Ride (?FoTR?).

A Tip of The Helmet, then, to a few of my FoTR who are now gone but never forgotten: Sammy, Daniel, and Uncle Ernie. Death and the Road took you too soon. Rest in Peace, Gentlemen.

A Downside of Being Connected

These days it's possible to get to know people we would never have met in times past. People who live far away, or perhaps one town over but moving in parallel but separate universes.

The internet has made this possible. It's a Good Thing, expanding our conversations and community in very real ways.

But I have just witnessed a big Down Side: with connection comes a level of caring, and when someone you know 'virtually' dies in reality, it can hurt. Perhaps not as keenly as when a 'real' and 'local' friend passes away, but still a pain that resonates.

A person I never met, whose voice I never heard, died this week. We shared presence on a web forum, sometimes responding to each other's posts, but mostly just co-existing in a local node in the webisphere. I admired his wit and wisdom. He wrote well. But I didn't really know him. I shouldn't be so affected by his death, but I am.

It's a good thing then, that a forum can grieve almost like a brick-and-mortar community. If acquaintances can be this real, our support must be too.

WeinerGate: Are There Any Grown-Ups in Congress?

I have been patiently waiting to see how our elected representatives would manage the national 'crisis' that is 'WeinerGate' - the juvenile twittering, sexting, and banal facebook postings that the media have foist upon our attentions, with the regrettable and unpalatable participation of Representative Andrew Weiner.

My patience has been futile.

On the Republican side, there appears to be no mercy and no sense 0f irony in their lambasting of the man. On the Demos side, to which Rep Weiner has been a long-time (ahem) member, we have seen little but confusion and deer-in-headlights indecision, which has been followed recently by a distinct and inhumane move toward cutting losses by tossing Weiner onto the nearest convenient trash heap. That's something we'd expect from the Palinites, not the Pelosians.

My take on the whole sordid affair?

Simple:

A. The man's an idiot, albeit an understandably human one. He is weak-willed and easily succumbs to frat-boy ideas of silly, stupid, and digusting 'fun', when he should be a sober-minded public servant. Andrew Weiner is essentially a congressional adjunct member of the 'Jackass' crew, absent the physically dangerous stunts (although we haven't seen all the emails and facebook stuff, so who knows?).

B. Our press are mostly idiots. They drop everything else of importance to cover a story that only affects the majority of us in the most peripheral of ways. And they hang on to it like it's as golden to the 4th Estate as Watergate once was. There's an element of pandering to the public's delight in watching someone powerful self-destruct, which is sad to see in play here. Feeding our guilty pleasures this way isn't in our best interest or the media's. It may bring short term viewership through titillation, but it will reap long-term self-disgust and a backlash towards the press.

C. Sadly, our elected representatives are a pretty idiotic bunch too. All of them, not just Mr. Weiner. The course of action should be obvious, but doesn't seem to register: whether the representative should be censured or should resign is a matter between Mr Weiner and his wife, his constituents, the congressional ethics committee, and the criminal justice system. If the representative is found to have committed a felony he should resign (even before conviction, in my opinion). If his constituents decide he's too idiotic or too bold (or bad) a liar to represent them, then he will be recalled or voted out at the next election. If the House Ethics committee finds against him, he should be censured. Everything else is a personal matter for Mr Weiner and something neither we, the press, nor his fellow congressionals should be following. We all have better things to do, don't we?

At least those of us who watch The Daily Show and The Colbert Report got something out of this mess to soften our depression over it all. Jon Stewart and Colbert did a remarkable job of turning the satiric mirror on the press, our leaders, and on us, letting us laugh a bit at ourselves to keep from crying or breaking down, or dropping into a nihilistic funk.

We witnessed Jon Stewart visibly struggling with commitment to his viewers in the face of his admitted friendship with Mr. Weiner. Whether you feel he did well in that struggle or failed will largely be subjective, but the struggle itself was refreshingly non-cynical.

Which is a good thing, helping offset the rock hard cynicism with which most of us view Congress - and the Press.

Memorial Day 2011

We've come once again to that part of the year where we pause to remember those who have served and died in America's wars; from the birth of our nation in the Revolution, through the darkest days of the Civil War; from the unimaginable destruction of the World Wars of the 20th century, through the 'police actions', humanitarian interventions, and 'regime change' which still take our young men and women in the 21st.

When we visit the graves this weekend, in person or in thought, let us also remember the many millions of non-combatants who also died in armed conflicts. They were, and still are, the 'collateral damage' of war, and victims to the hunger and disease that are so often war's companions. Their graves may not be marked by rows of white crosses on some hallowed field, or even marked at all, but their lives were just as forfeit and deserving of memorial.

This year, I would ask us to remember also the journalists and human rights champions, who observe and report our wars, and too often give their lives so we may know the truth.

Farewell and Rest In Peace to Tim Hetherington, photojournalist and filmmaker, who was killed this year in Libya. To his family and close friends he will be dearly missed. Those of us who had the privilege to know him, if only briefly, were impressed by his dedication, talent, and good nature, and we share your grief.

May we all have good memories, if bittersweet, this weekend, and return resolved to make real the day when war is no more.

Newt and Arnold at The End of The World

There are sometimes synergies between world events which enliven the news. And better still, there may be ironies included that lighten the otherwise heavy dudgeon - so viewers won't be bored or can skip their Zoloft. I think the week or so just past has been one of those times.

First we had the news explaining the split between Maria and Arnold; that is, we heard about Arnold's affair with his housekeeper and the 'love-child' he had with her. This was another of those fun moments when we realize that the tabloids and our paranoia can combine to be right about someone. Remember way back when Arnold was running for governor? Those stories about his groping and being generally a pig around women? They (and our gleeful gossipy hopes) were right!

And where had we seen this sort of thing before? Remember when Bill Clinton was first running for President? Remember those stories of his illicit liaisons, and the threats and bribes to keep the ladies quiet? Fast forward to Monica Lewinski and her dress: we were right!

Of course, in neither case did the rumors (or reality) cause them serious problems in their candidacies, and when we found out the truth, they were already out of office (more or less). Lucky. But not everyone is so fortunate. Take Newt Gingrich, for instance.

Mr. Gingrich is a notorious womanizer, according to the press (and the man himself). But, just as we witnessed with the two gents above, that kind of personality issue wouldn't, couldn't, hurt his candidacy. We just would never find out the worst until after he's ruled the world and retired.

No, Mr. G has been deliciously brought down, it seems, and herein lies the lovely irony, by giving a thoughtful, honest, opinion. Not a character flaw at all, unless you happen to be a power-broker in the republican party machine, or a Tea-Party fantasist. Then it seems, honesty is the flaw trumping all others.

When Newt was asked in a TV interview, what he thought of republican Paul Ryan's draconian budget plans for Medicare, he answered (and I paraphrase) that he didn't believe social engineering from either the left or the right was the proper duty of the legislature.

As Jon Stewart said on the daily show, that was a perfectly middle-of-the-road statement for a centrist republican - if only those people existed today. Newt forgot for a moment that his backers are fundamentalist in thought and fervent in their desire to dismantle government, i.e., to engineer social change as they see fit.

Now, there may be some doubt whether Mr. Gingrich really meant what he said, or was just trying to be noncommittal, as most serious politicians learn to be in the run-up to an election. It doesn't really matter, because in the eyes of his backers, he's a traitor.

So it looks to be the end of Newt's comeback from political exile to party favorite. At least he may not have to wallow in defeat for long. According to some people, the world will be ending today, May 21, 2011. As I write this it is 1:30 pm in Los Angeles, and the world is still here, but the day isn't over yet. Newt may yet be spared the long, painful journey into another exile.

What's happening to Arnold, and whether he'd welcome a remake of the End of Days I am not sure. But if he's trying to revive his movie career, he could do worse. Unless, of course, today is the End of Days, in which case ... he won't be back.

Life, as a Leaking Motorcycle

Those of us who find our fun on motorcycles, riding briskly along twisty roads any given weekend (and every other day we can break free of the grind), can't imagine truly living life without the experience.

This comes as a shock to non-riders, who think we must be anti-social, suicidal, or demented. To them, the image of bikes racing through country curves only elicits images of sudden, gory death. Or maybe, even decades beyond Brando's 'The Wild Ones' and the Angel's Mayhem at Altamont, the image raises fears of beer-bellied, hairy, alcoholics wielding knives and pool cues and pillaging villages. That's not who we riders are, although we perhaps relish the risk-taking, dangerous aura the image grants us from time to time.

Even so, non-riders who dismiss us and our hobby as Huns on Iron Horses are missing other life lessons motorcycling can teach, like persistence and infinite, Zen-like patience. Outside of farming or perhaps being Prince Charles, nothing else teaches those virtues quite as well as caring for your ride.

Take a modern-era Triumph Bonneville for example. Unlike its ancient brethren (up to 1976 or so), this bike doesn't leak fluids as a normal mode of operation. It is thoroughly new millennium in its oil tightness. So when this paragon of petroleum retention begins to ooze the precious stuff out from where it belongs to where it most definitely does not belong, like hot exhaust headers or rear tires, action by the owner must commence forthwith:

You begin by dismounting the smoking machine and walking around it, as if you can stare the problem away. Then you ride it some more in case the problem was a figment of your imagination. (Did I not mention the other life lessons, hopefulness and self-delusion?).

When the smoking inevitably returns you ride home, park the bike, and walk around it some more looking for the leak. When, after an hour or so, you see one single drop of oil on the pavement, you simultaneously rejoice (Aha!) and despair (Oh, No!). Composure recovered, you ride over to your most trusted mechanic and point and whine until he agrees to work on the problem right away (lesson: the art of effective persuasion).

As you wait anxiously at his side, your trusty Wrench decides that tightening all of the case bolts that were loose (even modern Trumpets vibrate a little) will do the trick. After running the engine until it's hot enough to sublimate lead, no leak appears and you are released to run free (after a modest fee). Twenty miles later, and the smoking reappears (double lesson: you get what you pay for, and life's a bitch).

You park the bike in your garage and make plans for further leak detection and redaction, beginning as soon as you can bear to face it, like the next free weekend in June - this being May (lesson: time management).

Meanwhile, you mount your other bike - your sole remaining fully-functional two-wheeled steed, a Ducati, and roar up the canyons, carefree and feeling very Zen, contemplating the delicious irony of such a famously maintenance-intensive Italian being your reliable ride.

And that's the final and best lesson motorcycling, in the form of a leaking Triumph, can teach you: always have a backup.