The Palins’ un-American activities | Salon

Oct. 7, 2008 | “My government is my worst enemy. I’m going to fight them with any means at hand.”

This was former revolutionary terrorist Bill Ayers back in his old Weather Underground days, right? Imagine what Sarah Palin is going to do with this incendiary quote as she tears into Barack Obama this week.

Only one problem. The quote is from Joe Vogler, the raging anti-American who founded the Alaska Independence Party. Inconveniently for Palin, that’s the very same secessionist party that her husband, Todd, belonged to for seven years and that she sent a shout-out to as Alaska governor earlier this year. “Keep up the good work,” Palin told AIP members. “And God bless you.”

I am a big fan of David Liss’s work, especially A Conspiracy of Paper, a historical mystery set during the the world’s first stock market crash, which will give some insight into what happened nearly 300 years ago, wrapped up in a story of pugilism and prostitution.

And then, once you’ve finished A Conspiracy of Paper, you can read The Coffee Trader (the introduction of coffee to the commodities exchanges in Amsterdam in the mid 17th Century) and A Spectacle of Corruption (about the machinations involved in an early 18th Century British national election) … all are timely novels to read in the current political and economic climate … a little history to put current events into perspective.

David Liss’s new book, The Whiskey Rebels is finally available.

Synopsis from Publisher’s Weekly:

Set in and around Philadelphia, Pittsburgh and New York City in the years after the Revolutionary War, this clever thriller from Liss (The Ethical Assassin) follows the adventures of Ethan Saunders, once a valiant spy for General Washington, who’s fallen on hard times by war’s end. Suspected of treason, Ethan has lost the love of his life, Cynthia, who’s married the fiendish Jacob Pearson, an entrepreneur who managed to prosper during the British occupation of Philadelphia.

At Cynthia’s urging, Ethan agrees to go looking for the missing Jacob, prompted in large part by a desire to redeem his reputation. Meanwhile, the so-called whiskey rebels on the western frontier are trying to bring down the hated Alexander Hamilton and his Bank of the United States.

The courageous Ethan is a likable rogue, and even though Ethan spends too much time delving into the complications of 18th-century finance, he can be counted on when the chips are down and the odds against him soar.

Oddly (at least to me), the only novel Liss has written that I didn’t enjoy was the one mentioned in the Publisher’s Weekly synopsis. The Ethical Assassin was certainly well-written, but the darkly comic novel was set in modern times; it wasn’t what I really expected from Liss, and while I tried to give the book a chance, it never really grabbed me. I have yet to finish it. Perhaps I’ll give it another chance after finishing The Whiskey Rebels

Picked up my copy of The Whiskey Rebels last night, and am already thoroughly engrossed.

Yeah, sure, this song may technically be about about the fight for Irish freedom, fighting against an oppressive British regime, but the sentiment is valid in every nation being oppressed by its government, including our own.

For if anyone believes that the citizens of the United States are truly free anymore, they are seriously deluded. Thankfully, we only have another 6 1/2 months under our current oppressors, who will then retire off to Texas and Wyoming with taxpayer protection for the remainder of their lives.

One can only hope that our next President will help restore that which the current has taken away.

FLOGGING MOLLY - WHAT’S LEFT OF THE FLAG

His eyes they closed
And his last breath spoke
He had seen all to be seen
A life once full
Now an empty vase
Wilt the blossoms
On his early grave

Walk away, me boy
Walk away, me boy
And by morning we’ll be free
Wipe that golden tear
From your mother dear
And raise what’s left of the flag for me

Then the rosary beads
Count them: one, two, three
Fell apart as they hit the floor
In a garb of black
We must pay respect
To the color we’re born to mourn

Walk away, me boys
Walk away, me boys
And by morning we’ll be free
Wipe that golden tear
From your mother dear
And raise what’s left of the flag for me

In his place there grew
An angry festered wound
Filled with hatred and remorse
Where I pick and scratch
‘Til the blood amassed
To silent rage now that fills my lungs
For there are many ways
To kill a man they say
With bayonet, axe or sword
But son a bullet fired
From a shapeless guise
Just leaves the shell of a Thompson gun

Walk away, me boys
Walk away, me boys
And by morning we’ll be free
Wipe that golden tear
From your mother dear
And raise what’s left of the flag for me

From the east out to the western shore
Where many men and many more will fall
But no angel flies with me tonight
Though freedom reigns on all
And curse the name for which
We slaved our days
So every men chose Kingdom Come

But sure as night turns day
It’s the passion play
Oh my God
What have they done
With madmans rage
Well they dug our graves
But the dead rise again you fools

Walk away, me boys
Walk away, me boys
And by morning we’ll be free
Wipe that golden tear
From your mother dear
Raise what’s left of the flag for me

Walk away, me boys
Walk away, me boys
And by morning we’ll be free
Wipe that golden tear
From your mother dear
And raise what’s left of the flag for me

A NATION’S STRENGTH

What makes a nation’s pillars high
And it’s foundations strong?
What makes it mighty to defy
The foes that round it throng?

It is not gold. Its kingdoms grand
Go down in battle shock;
Its shafts are laid on sinking sand,
Not on abiding rock.

Is it the sword? Ask the red dust
Of empires passed away;
The blood has turned their stones to rust,
Their glory to decay.

And is it pride? Ah, that bright crown
Has seemed to nations sweet;
But God has struck its luster down
In ashes at his feet.

Not gold but only men can make
A people great and strong;
Men who for truth and honor’s sake
Stand fast and suffer long.

Brave men who work while others sleep,
Who dare while others fly…
They build a nation’s pillars deep
And lift them to the sky.

  — Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 - 1882), American author, poet, and philosopher

MotionBased Digest

Planned to commute in by bike this morning, but was running late for riding … but early for driving. So, I drove part way, over to Revolution on 7th East, and rode the rest of the way. Went just enough out of my way to get in about 5.25 miles this morning, while the ride back this afternoon was a bit more direct at only 3.5 miles …

Slowly but surely … and while the 24 miles I’ve put in over the past two days is nothing to write home about, it’s also the first time in I can’t remember how long that I’ve ridden two days in a row.

Two songs, as relevant in 2008 as they were in 1992 (when the album came out), if not earlier, when I’d see 4 Non Blondes playing at the I-Beam in the Haight.

4 NON BLONDES - DEAR MR. PRESIDENT

I’m looking outside of my windows
The view that I see
Is a child and mama
And the child is begging for money

Tell me why, tell me why
The woman is blind is she so broke
The kid’s dealing crime

It’s such a beautiful city
But the world is burning it down

Yea yea yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea yea yea
It’s such a beautiful city
But the world is it burning down

I go to my room to turn on the T.V
I sit myself down
And I start laughing hard
‘Cause this man he’s asking for money
He sats “if you send me lots of cash I’ll send you
Stuff to make you rich fast”

It’s such a wonderful country
But the man he’s burning it down

Yea yea yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea yea yea
It’s such a wonderful country
But the man he’s burning it down

Yea yea yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea yea yea
And it’s burning down
And it’s called the U.S of A.

One day I’m going to have lots of money
But I’ll have to give up
For this rich society
Oh please Mr. President will you lend me a future
‘Cause you’ll just get it back
From the little blind woman
With the kid on the corner
And the people all over, doin’ crack

Yea yea yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea yea yea
It’s such a wonderful country
But the man he’s burning it down

Yea yea yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea yea yea
And it’s burning down
And it’s called the U.S of A.

I’m walking outside on a sunny day
With no one around
And I wonder what’s wrong
The I hear this loud piercing siren
Oh my God, the bomb has just dropped
And everybody climbed right on top
Screaming, what a wonderful country
But the man he’s burning it down

Yea yea yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea yea yea
It’s such a wonderful country
But the man he’s burning it down

Yea yea yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea yea yea
And it’s burning down
And it’s called the U.S of A.

4 NON BLONDES - WHAT’S UP

Twenty-five years and my life is still
Trying to get that great big hill of hope
For a destination
I realized quickly when I knew I should
That the world was made up of this brotherhood of man
For whatever that means

And so I cry sometimes
When I’m lying in bed
Just to get it all out
What’s in my head
And I, I am feeling a little peculiar

And so I wake in the morning
And I step outside
And I take a deep breath and I get real high
And I scream from the top of my lungs
What’s going on?

And I say hey, yeah, yeah, hey yeah, yeah
I said hey, what’s going on?
And I say hey, yeah, yeah, hey yeah, yeah
I said hey, what’s going on?

And I try, oh my God do I try
I try all the time, in this institution
And I pray, oh my God do I pray
I pray every single day
For a revolution

And so I cry sometimes
When I’m lying in bed
Just to get it all out
What’s in my head
And I, I am feeling a little peculiar

And so I wake in the morning
And I step outside
And I take a deep breath and I get real high
And I scream from the top of my lungs
What’s going on?

And I say hey, yeah, yeah, hey yeah, yeah
I said hey, what’s going on?
And I say hey, yeah, yeah, hey yeah, yeah
I said hey, what’s going on?

And I say hey, yeah, yeah, hey yeah, yeah yeah yeah!
I said hey, what’s going on?

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Twenty-five years and my life is still
Trying to get that great big hill of hope
For a destination.

BILLY BRAGG - WAITING FOR THE GREAT LEAP FORWARDS

It may have been Camelot for Jack and Jacqueline
But on the Hugo Chavez highway filling up with gasoline
Little Donald Rumsfeld spies a rich lady who’s crying
Over luxury’s disappointment
So he walks over and he’s trying
To sympathise with her but he thinks that he should warn her
To prepare to be bombed back into the Stone Age

In the former Soviet Union the citizens demand
to know why they’re still the target of Strategic Air Command
And they shake their fists in anger and respectfully suggest
We take money from our missiles and spend it on our hospitals instead

The Cold War is now over but the stakes are getting higher
I’m frightened of collateral damage
And of friendly fire
And I don’t believe we can defeat no Axis of Evil
By putting smart bombs into the hands of dumb people

Mixing Pop and Politics they ask me what the use is
I offer them my acupuncturist, my masseuses
While looking down the corridor
Out to where my ego is waiting
I’m looking for the New World Order

Jumble sales are organised, all my mates got fat
Even after all this time you can still me a fax
You can be active with the activists
Or sleep in with the media
While you’re waiting for the Great Leap Forwards

One leap forward, two leaps back
Will YouTube give MTV the sack?
Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards

Here comes the future and you can’t run from it
If you’ve got a t-shirt I want to be on it

If no one seems to understand
Start your own revolution and cut out the middleman
Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards

In a perfect world we’d all sing in tune
But this is reality not American Idol

So join the struggle while you may
The Revolution is just an ethical haircut away when you’re
Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards