There’s nothing like participating in a rally on the Capitol lawn in Washington, DC to exhaust you and make you want to vomit. While it was a sunny day in the nation’s capital with a high in the mid-50’s, the nausea can’t be explained away by heatstroke. And since I didn’t sample any of the DC street vendors’ delicacies, we can’t blame it on bad food.
I didn’t get any lunch at all for that matter, come to think of it. And it’s so not like me to ever miss a meal. So when I’m that steamed about something that I give no thought whatsoever to stuffing my face come lunchtime? Sure as hell, you can just know that whatever I’m doing, it’s something that really matters to me.
So if it wasn’t the heat or the lunch (or rather, lack thereof) that caused me to want to lose my half bran muffin for breakfast on Global Climate Crisis Day, then what was it? In all candor, the thing that predictably makes me nauseous at these rallies is the presence of politicians who have the audacity to ruin the day just by showing up.
The slimy Puppet President-wanna-be's have a habit of appearing at these actions, like the shameless self-promoters they are, climbing up onto makeshift stages at the drop of a hat. Any time there’s a liberal audience gathered in a bunch on the Mall in DC, the lure of public display is far too great for legislators with reputations-to-build (or in Kerry’s case, reputations to try to turn around) to pass up. Quite predictably, they rarely, if ever, offer any words of any significance at these rah-rah, feel-good “progressive” affairs.
Just once I would like to see something different for a change. I want to see some politician - any politician - say something that was real, true, or important. Can you imagine a Senator Kerry - or a Boxer, for that matter - standing up on Global Climate Crisis Day and telling the crowd the truth, the whole truth and nothing’ but? What would happen if someone from Congress actually told us anything that would not cause their noses to grow, Pinocchio-style… such as, just for starters, the fact that nanoparticles of metallic aerosols are polluting our atmosphere, having been placed up there, courtesy of US taxpayers’ dollars?
How our mouths would drop if, for even just once, a US legislator was to confess in public at one of these crowd-drawing events that his/her own votes on the Capitol floor helped contribute to the global atmospheric warming through his/her undying support of war appropriations bills! Imagine for a second if just even once we would hear a War Enabler confess to approving monies that allow the US Ministers of War And Death-By-Radiation to develop, test, and manufacture those Uranium Munitions of Mass Devastation?
Let’s not kid ourselves. No matter how political strategists may try to frame corporate and military agenda, expecting clean, non-radioactive air for our kids to breathe is *not* a “liberal” value. And with so-called “progressive” politicians doing the job for Empire - like those who appeared on stage, a day that was supposed to be about fighting environmental atmospheric contamination? Sadly, it was apparent to myself and not too many others that the performance up on stage was not really all about the environment at all.
Actions speak louder than words, dear members of Congress. Since 1945 you have voted to fund radioactive weapons of indiscriminate effects … weapons that kill all forms of life, weapons that stay right here in our atmosphere and in our soils, sands, and water - forever. Weapons that, like Leuren Moret, internationally-known geoscientist, environmentalist, and Uranium contaminations expert tells us, are used by our military and Department of [Radiation] Energy and “They are creating billions and billions and billions of superfine particles. These did not settle out by gravity. Gravitational forces do not pull them out of the air. They stay suspended. They act like a radioactive gas.”
Unbeknownst to volunteers, interns, and environmentalists assembled to hear (empty) words about “clean” sources of energy, Global Climate Crisis Day was merely a photo op appearance. Tuesday’s DC lunchtime show was just another event staged to give the Capitol vermin a chance to get their mug and carefully chosen-for-that-particular-audience speech in front of several TV cameras.
Politicians in the National District of Slime are fully aware that exposure to liberal audiences makes for superb PR. Events like yesterday’s give Congressional thespians merely one more chance to say virtually nothing at all in their politically-correct and “safe” speeches as opportunistically as turkey vultures on top of deer carcasses on the side of any Maryland country road.
The issue of global warming on the part of the Dems is, when you get right down to it, all about winning elections. Suffice it to say, John Kerry’s lackluster speech on global warming made even some Sierra Clubbers (including this writer who is herself a member) yawn. And while peppy, totally-Cali-gal Barbara Boxer uttered nice-sounding words about making the air cleaner for her unborn grandbaby - and, to her credit, spoke out against nuclear power as a form of energy? I must confess that the urge to scream out: DEPLETED URANIUM, BARBARA! at the top of my lungs in front of about 1,000 global climate crisis enthusiasts was admittedly more than a mere casual consideration.
I did not, in fact, scream out as I had the utmost urge to do. Although not afraid of doing time for creating a public ruckus and disturbing the peace? I was merely concerned about one little particular matter of my potential arrest. My husband kept saying, “Whatever you do, don’t get yourself arrested!” I suspect that he just didn’t feel like schlepping an hour away down to the District of Crime in order to bail me out of jail.
Quite frankly, I eagerly would have done hard time in the slammer if I thought it might focus a spotlight on the well-hidden truth about Deadly Uranium (DU) that we are using both abroad and domestically - Yes, inside the United States. But if the truth be told, it wasn’t doing time that bothered me. No I’ll sleep in a damp, smelly DC jail cell in a minute. My greatest fear was instead that chemicals would be applied to my sensitive private parts by a large militant woman called Max. Hubby said that they don’t do that in the DC holding cells, but I just didn’t want to take any chances of incurring a less-than-lovingly applied pesticide body spray by a woman who, in all likelihood, might enjoy her job just a wee bit too much.
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