Well, Kiss Yer Keester Bye-Bye, Dear Citizen

The Supreme Court has decided that corporations can spend as much money as they like on political campaigns of whatever stripe they wish. So, if you thought the citizens of this country were laboring under a de facto corporateocracy now, ah, you ain’t seen nothing yet. The sluice gates are now opened by an “activist court” explicitly ignoring its usual regard for stare decisis. So far, the usual “conservative” talking heads are remaining amazingly quiet about their usual hot-button rants about “activist courts,” which certainly was a huge part of this decision.

And I haven’t yet heard from John McCain whose McCain Feingold Act of 202 has now been eviscerated. Presumably he’ll make disapproving noises. But it now remains to be seen how or whether Congress will move to blunt this ruling by making more laws that can somehow balance corporate $$ power and a For Sale congress, though making such changes will require a fox rebuild his very nice, well stocked chicken cop.

So, I won’t hold my breath. Nor will I hold my breath in hopes that The Public will wake up and connect the dots that lead from corporate electioneering directly to laws that benefit corporations at the expense of the dear Public that can’t connect the dots. Or wake up enough to understand that Corporations are not People and shouldn’t have the same “rights” as people. And change the laws accordingly. Nope, no breath holding on my part.

But here’s a real simple dot that, I think (hope?) most people can connect? Imagine, for example, a ballot measure allowing the citizens of SLO County to form a non-profit municipal power company offering clean, alternative energy to all county residents. Imagine the amount of citizen-raised funds needed to publicize and promote support for such a ballot measure. Now, imagine the amount of money available from oil companies, coal companies, PG&E that can now be brought to bear, in unlimited quantities, to defeat such an initiative. Imagine how much finite media is available locally, the square inches of ad space in all the newspapers, ad time on TV and radio. It’s limited and all of it can be bought by one side or the other. And run 24/, thereby totally controlling the flow of information available.

Guess who wins that election? Guess who loses. Right.

Uh, Oh, Ron’s Asking Annoying Questions Again.

Over at www.sewerwatch.blogspot.com

Sky High

Yesterday’s story in the Business section of the L.A. Times by W.J. Hennigan was about “A big bird, aging gracefully – The first 747 made its maiden commercial flight 40 years ago today.”

Forty years? Oy, how time flies. Seems like only yesterday, my husband and I went down to the start of the north runway at LAX , the longest runway at the time. We parked with several other people and walked to the fence and waited. You could do that in those far away days. We were waiting to see the very first 747 come in and soon enough she did. She sure looked big, she sure sounded big, she seemed to take forever to get overhead and touch down, but just how big that plane was didn’t really hit home until she had taxied back to the terminal and pulled in next to a parked 707.

With that juxtaposition, the size hit home, right in the solar plexis. It was interesting evidence of how critical experiential spacial “body sense” and juxtapositioning is. My body sense-memory already had a “feel” for the size of the 707, having stood next to one, have flown in them, so I internally “knew” how big that plane was. And it was big. But seeing the 747 next to the 707, it hit home; there’s Big and then there’s HOLY COW THAT’S BIG!

Indeed, George Lucas offered his own 747 moment in the opening of 1977’s “Star Wars.” Coming in overhead, (like I was again standing at the end of LAX’s north runway) was Princess Leia’s space ship and I said, as it passed over head, “Wow. That’s Big.” To which Lucas slyly replied, “You think that’s big, watch THIS!” as the theatre’s dolby sound system rumbled and Darth Vader’s massive battleship passed overhead for what felt like hours.

For quite a while afterwards, those big birds coming into the north runway (the longest one at the time that could accommodate them) remained startlingly unusual enough to trigger a double take. Now, of course, they’re considered the norm and 707s look like little puddle jumpers. Thus do we quickly adjust to “mission creep,” whether it’s size or anything else, the outlandish and outrageous soon becoming the new norm.

Well, happy anniversary, Big Bird.