There’s one particular bit of political rhetoric that has been repeated so often that it’s becoming a “fact”, and I’m tired of it. This morning I had to hear Cokie Roberts repeating it on NPR, just as matter-of-factly as if she were talking about gravity, or breathing air. It is that John Kerry “can’t give a straight answer” to the question of the war in Iraq, that he’s “tried to make a virtue out fact that he’s nuanced, but on this case he seems to be all over the place” on his position. The Bush campaign has been working hard to reinforce this idea, having already implanted it in the first place several months ago. I’m just so tired of hearing it.

Here’s what a politico-blogger, Bob Somersby, wrote, as I might have liked to:

What is Kerry’s stand on Iraq? Readers, get ready for some real brain-work! Here goes: Kerry says Bush should have had the authority to go to war, but then went to war prematurely. Wow! Have you finished scratching your heads about all the nuance involved in that statement?

Remember way back when, when the President was still pretending he hadn’t already decided to attack, when we, along with the UN, were supposedly trying to get more weapons inspections in Iraq? (Remember back when we believed in “evidence” and “proof”, not just assertion, suspicions and estimates?) Remember the Bush Administration arguing that they needed the support of the Congress to pressure Iraq for more inspections, and to get UN support?

Imagine a world where, using the weight of such a resolution, a President worked to get actual inspectors on the ground to prove, or disprove, suspicions about WMDs, BEFORE we started shipping troops. IAEA inspections had already managed to give us a good picture of the state of Iraqi nuclear weaponry. Golly, if Mr. Bush had actually used the resolution Kerry voted for in the way the administration claimed he would, we might have saved billions of dollars, and nearly a thousand soldiers’ lives, by discovering there were NO WMDs in advance! Or, actually discovered weapons, if they existed, which would have meant the whole world, even the French, would have piled on, and we might have been able to “split the check”. (Would that have been being too “sensitive?”)

Kerry has been making this argument, clumsily, for months, as you can see if you go back over his statements. This whole “he’s all over the map” and “can’t give a straight answer” riff is fiction. And I’m really, really tired of hearing it from people who ought to know better, and could, if they bothered to pay attention. It’s just not that hard to get. I just wish that Kerry spoke as plainly as Bob Somersby writes. It would help in the battle-of-the-sound-bite-stars that seems to pass for news these days. (Though even Kerry’s actual statements are not all that hard to understand, if you actually look at what was said, not what someone said he said. And I’m a little bit bewildered by the suggestion that grammatical sentences, even long ones, are harder to understand than Bushisms, or rants about some negotiating with Al Qaeda.)

Now, my personal opinion is that it was clear at the time that Bush was insincere in asking for a Congressional vote. I thought it was obvious that he would go ahead and use any such vote to go straight to war, not passing GO (or the UN), and not collecting $200 billion in world support. I fault Kerry for going along with the crowd, and giving him the ability to do so.

But the story has been straight on this for some time. I just wish the press would start reporting it and stop doing the Bush campaign’s work for it.

I haven’t written much of anything this week. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to write, but at the end of the day, when I usually write, I have been just too tired to focus on it. Why I am so tired? Here are the reasons:

Reason #1: Max, 2 years, 11 months. AKA Mr. Max, or the Little Dictator.

A smart, funny, perpetual-motion machine. Likes dinosaurs, making up unique versions of songs, ice cream, the zoo, testing limits, splashing around in the pool.

Who knew that one small boy could wrap my mother so tightly around his little finger?

Reason #2: Reed, 10 months. AKA Boo.

A quiet, observant, easygoing baby. Likes raspberries (eating and blowing), tupperware containers, drooling, being bounced up and down (especially if accompanied by funny sounds).

Who knew that a baby could do the breaststroke on the floor… and move so quickly while flat on his belly?

My parents, my sister Melanie, and her boys arrived in Seattle on Tuesday. They left today. After some rest, housecleaning and laundry, I’ll write some more. I do have lots of material.

Well, isn’t he? I readily admit that I’m biased, but really, how could you not love that face? Especially when he smiles at you like that…

(I hope he’s not embarassed by this sappy display of affection. Anyone who knows us, or has been reading here for a while, already knows that I love him.)

Editors note: Today, in honor of the opening of the 2004 Olympics in Athens, we have a guest post from the friend of ours most qualified to speak to all things sporting.

I’ve written enough. Here’s Mason.

In 1993, on the eve of the selection of the city for the 2000 Summer Olympics, Chris Golde and I were wondering through San Francisco’s Chinatown. We encountered an older Chinese man (I would guess in his 50s) who was covered in Chinese flags and signs that read “Beijing 2000” or had the Olympic rings logo. In a stereotypical Chinese accent, he kept rhythmically chanting a triplet: “Olympics, Olympics, Olympics.” To this day, Chris and I can never say the word Olympics just once or twice–only three times will do.

Chris and I wound up attending two Olympics (Olympics, Olympics) together: Atlanta in 1996 and Salt Lake City in 2002. As a sports nut, I see the Olympics as something special. In fact, I firmly believe they should get rid of most of the “popular” sports (soccer, baseball, tennis, etc.) and make the whole thing a mélange of minor, wacky sports.

Trivia question: Is three-handed Yngling: a) a mutant Panda, b) what has replaced two-handed blingbling, c) an Olympic event?

The more “athlons” the better: heptathlon, decathlon, triathlon, and modern pentathlon–my favorite because it combines horseback riding, fencing, shooting, running and swimming. Modern pentathlon is supposed to combine five military disciplines, but swimming? Why not something like taekwondo or archery? Having lived in England for the last two years, I also envision a Pub Triathlon: darts, foosball, and snooker.

Oddly, the only thing I’ve experienced that resembled the Olympics is SIGGRAPH, a trade show for computer graphics. The Olympics resembles a trade show for athletics and athletes. One feels such a buzz and intense appreciation for competition when walking around an Olympic city. You also feel that you are experiencing the very pinnacle of something.

In Salt Lake City, Chris and I attended the front half of Nordic Combined, a combination of ski jumping and cross country skiing. The Nordic Combined is not biathlon, which is shooting and cross country skiing. (Why not a Winter Triathlon with luge, speed skating, and curling? Makes just as much sense to me.) To see ski jumping live really gives one a sense of the incredible distance these jumpers cover. On TV, the zoom lens make the jumper look large and diminishes the distance. In person, they look really small against a huge hill, which is the length of a football field at an enormous angle. I suddenly found myself with great respect for Eddie “the Eagle” Edwards, the British ski jumper who was viewed as a good-hearted joke when he competed, because he always came in dead last. I looked up and thought I would never go down that hill in a thousand years. If I did, the odds are poor that the skis would touch the ground before the rest of me. Edwards was willing to give it a try, and he did manage to land on his feet. Good on him.

In Athens, the UK’s hopes are looking somewhat bleak. There’s only one wrestler, and he’s actually American. There’s one weightlifter. The only British decathlete has been so badly injured that he’s entered only one competition in the last three years. The UK is hoping to pick up a couple of medals in swimming and is pretty solid in sailing and rowing.

The Brit who is most likely to emerge an Olympic hero is long-distance runner Paula Radcliffe. She’s already a household name here, and she is going to be a huge story. At the 2003 London Marathon, she broke the world record by three minutes. She wears these taupe knee socks and is a running bobblehead doll, whose style has been described as “nodding dog in agony.” The big question is whether she can manage the heat and humidity of Athens. Millions here will watch on the middle Sunday of the Olympics to see if Paula can do it. If she wins, she’s Dame Paula before her plane finishes taxiing down the runway at Heathrow.

If Paula should lose, the UK may fall into a deep depression, depending on how badly she fails. If she gets a medal, people will get over it pretty quickly. If she wilts in the heat and fails to finish, there will be a collective “why do we always suck?”, a sentiment which is especially pronounced here after major men’s world and European football tournaments, as well as every Wimbledon.

As an added bonus, 36-year old optician Tracey Morris also qualified for the Olympic Marathon by being the fastest British woman in the 2004 London Marathon. Amazingly, the Olympics will be only her THIRD marathon. (Radcliffe skipped the 2004 London Marathon to focus on the Olympic Marathon.) When I first heard a 36-year old optician had run the London Marathon in 2 hours 35 minutes, I was quite suspicious that she had taken the Jubilee Tube line for a good portion of it.

So, get ready for what one British newspaper writer called “two weeks of watching non-menstruating teenagers in tears.” To which I add, two weeks of figuring out why a floor exercise has a dismount and what happens when people on a trampoline fail to stick the landing (answer: Greece’s Funniest Home Videos). Two weeks to see if the South Koreans are still in a hissy fit over short-track speed skating (answer: yes).

Olympics, Olympics, Olympics.

Just in case you folks thought all I do is lie around with a cat in my lap, you should know you are sadly mistaken. Ever since last weekend, when we set up a present that Kimberly got for me, I have also been making time for lying around in my new hammock on the front porch.

It’s pretty awful. The weather has been in the high 70s and low 80s, with a nice breeze most days, and the sky is blue, and there are lots of songbirds in the trees nearby. I’ve even figured out a way to string my feedbag on the back of a rocking chair nearby, and set the pump on a crate we use for a table out there. So I don’t have to miss valuable calories.

I was thinking this morning that being in the hammock was a little like being out in my kayak, without the work. I get to gently rock, and feel the breeze, and relax. I believe it may have something to do with the improvement I’ve noticed lately in my under-chin swelling, and swallowing. Who knows?

Later I’ll see if I can get Kimberly to take a picture, and show me how to link it here. In the meantime, if you want to see what my hammock looks like on someone else’s porch with some lame models posing in it, you can look here.

For the visually inclined, I offer this photo as a “show” to go along with Paul’s “tell” from yesterday afternoon.

As I have noted before, Paul and Sergei have a special bond. And, as you can see in this photo, there are some striking similarities. Note angle of head and paw, goatee, sprawled relaxation.

What may not be visible, but is clear to those who know and love them both, is that they are affectionate, curious and clever. And they both love a good nap.

This morning, there is a rain falling in Seattle, the first serious rain we’ve had in weeks. Plants across the city are being given a much-needed, if small, respite. The gentle patter of the raindrops makes a soothing background sound.

I am reading a book, while a warm concoction of Instant Breakfast and espresso coffee trickles into my stomach. In my lap, Sergei is curled up, warm and purring, half-asleep. I remember the sensation of eating a small bite of salmon last night, and actually getting it, eventually, down my throat.

Life is good.

From a press conference this morning:

Q: Mr. President, this week, General Tommy Franks, your former CENTCOM commander has been on tour, talking about his book, talking about his Iraqi experience. And he conservatively estimated two to four more years of a large-scale American presence in Iraq. This morning there is fresh fighting in Najaf, Nasiriyah, Samara. What is the mission at this point, for 140,000 American forces? And how will we know when they’re done? (Applause.)

THE PRESIDENT: The mission is for the — their mission is there to be a democratic Iraq, where they have elections to elect their government. That’s the mission, to help them achieve that. And that’s important. And that’s necessary work. The tactics to achieve that are, one, we help provide security to the Allawi government as they move toward elections. Obviously, there are people there that are still trying to disrupt the election process. They can’t stand the thought of a free society in the midst of a part of the world that’s just desperate for freedom. These people don’t like freedom. You know why? Because it clashes with their ideology. We actually misnamed the war on terror, it ought to be the struggle against ideological extremists who do not believe in free societies who happen to use terror as a weapon to try to shake the conscience of the free world. (Laughter.)

No, that’s what they do. They use terror to — and they use it effectively, because we’ve got good hearts. We’re people of conscience, they aren’t. They will cut off a person’s head like that, and not even care about it. That’s why I tell you, you can’t talk sense to them. Maybe some think you can, I don’t. I don’t think you can negotiate with them. Let me —

Q That two to four year projections —

THE PRESIDENT: No, let me finish. Let me finish, please, sir. Thank you, though.

There’s that whole “frightening, bloody image, followed by dismissing “some” (who?) who want to “negotiate” with them” bit again. A conscious, pre-planned rhetorical device, polluting the public discourse, or a persistent delusional state? We report, you decide.

I can’t blame the reporter for interrupting and trying to save the President from embarassing himself again, though.

I grew up in hurricane country, so I know this feeling.

The storm is brewing. Clouds building on the horizon, a charge in the strangely greenish air; you can see it coming from miles away. The waiting is the worst. You do what you can to prepare: tape the windows, buy batteries and water. You don’t leave, because this is your home. You wait, and hope that, when the storm hits, you’ll be able to ride it out.

The storm finally hit my office on Tuesday. One of my coworkers gave notice that he was leaving. He did not bring the storm; he just announced that he was getting out. And, as predicted, the storm came in.

Due to economic climate change, the storm that finally hit my office has been all too common in the past few years. We’re finishing up existing projects, and we don’t have new work. We’ve been struggling with this for a while. Fortunately, the main office in Oakland has had more than enough work, and the extra has been a lifeline for our office, at least for a while. At this point, however, things are looking bleak.

The lease on our office space runs through January, and it appears that our Seattle office will close then, if not before. If I want it, there is a job for me at the firm’s main office in Oakland. Paul and I have thought of moving back to California; there are many considerations, financial and otherwise. If we decide to stay in Seattle, my very well connected boss has said that he will help me get a job with a good firm here.

So, right now there’s lots of wind and rain, and I’m feeling constantly buffeted. (Not as bad as the squamous tornado we had earlier this year… damn, I’m tired of being blown around.) But I know what to expect. Eventually, the eye will arrive. There will be some calm, and clarity, and decisions will be made. Of course, there will be rain and wind the other side of the eye, but, in time, this storm too shall pass.

Today, I came across an article about what the White House knew about Iraq before we went to war. Lately, there has been a lot of talk that the Bush administration didn’t lie, they just believed bad intelligence. This article details many ways in which the White House had been told, in advance, that the claims it would make publicly were wrong. They weren’t mistaken, they were lying.

The article makes excellent use of hypertext links to actual source material (The advantage of citing your sources is that the reader can go look, and see if they agree that the sources say what you claim they say.) If only the right-wing media spent as much time documenting its arguments.

It’s a long article, but important. And I suggest clicking on the links. They are impressive. Like the full text, on the State Department website, of Colin Powell press remarks in 2001, in which he speaks about sanctions on Iraq, saying

We should constantly be reviewing our policies, constantly be looking at those sanctions to make sure that they are directed toward that purpose. That purpose is every bit as important now as it was ten years ago when we began it. And frankly they have worked. He has not developed any significant capability with respect to weapons of mass destruction. He is unable to project conventional power against his neighbors. So in effect, our policies have strengthened the security of the neighbors of Iraq,…

http://www.inthesetimes.com/site/main/article/they_knew_0802/

Sad. Very sad.

Try this if the above link doesn’t work