Mythology.

As every right-thinking American knows, taxes here in Europe are obscenely high. This leads to all sorts of bad things, like gay marriage and societal breakdown and gay marriage and legalized marijuana and gay marriage and rampant Islamism and various other horrors—not to mention gay marriage—that are completely unthinkable in the noble, valiant, free-market, Jesus-fearing, ruggedly individualistic U.S. of fuckin’ A.

But I just got my first European paycheck, and without delving into too much detail, I can now reveal the following shocking fact: the difference between my gross and take-home pay—most of which, of course, consists of income-tax withholding—amounts to approximately 28%. And we’re not talking about poverty-level wages here, either—my monthly salary is considerably above the Dutch average.

Three years ago, when I was still living in Ameristan and earning a comparable salary, the amount that was deducted from each paycheck—again, mostly for taxes—was 30%.

Any questions?

React! [5]

Permalink 24 September, 9:11pm

Advices.

What a strange world we live in.

Tajik Air, the flag carrier of Tajikistan, has added a new item to the usual seat-back clutter of barf bags, over-water evacuation instructions, and duty-free catalogues: a passenger safety information card explaining what to do in the event of a hijacking by glowing red space aliens. Some excerpts from the rather inadequate English translation:

and, most poignantly:

Words to live by.

(Via Lulderij 2.0, a blog run by a Dutch expat in the U.S. Like me, only backwards.)

React! [2]

Permalink 19 September, 11:00am

Wisdom.

In 1993, which America-hating commie traitor made the following remarks to a group of Gulf War veterans?

“Had we gone into Baghdad—we could have done it, you guys could have done it, you could have been there in 48 hours—and then what? Which sergeant, which private, whose life would be at stake in perhaps a fruitless hunt in an urban guerilla war to find the most-secure dictator in the world? Whose life would be on the hands of the commander-in-chief because he, unilaterally, went beyond the international law, went beyond the stated mission, and said we’re going to show our macho? We’re going into Baghdad. We’re going to be an occupying power—America in an Arab land—with no allies at our side. It would have been disastrous.”

It was none other than former U.S. President George Herbert Walker Bush. [via Rude Pundit] Of course I’ve edited his remarks very slightly to obscure his identity; the third sentence should actually read, “Whose life would be on my hands as the commander-in-chief because I, unilaterally, went beyond the international law” (etc.).

What relevance does this have to the current Presidential campaign? Quite a lot, actually. Apparently Li’l George’s people have been running ads extolling his father’s record of “tearing down walls, not building them”—a concept that is diametrically opposed to the current Administration’s obsession with security über alles, not to mention its tacit support for the construction of a Berlin-style wall in a certain country in the eastern Mediterranean.

Moreover, the Borg’s consistent characterization of John Kerry as a “flip-flopper” conveniently ignores Big George’s actions as “the mother of all flip-floppers”—most egregiously, his decision to raise taxes a scant few months after he made that infamous lip-reading remark. As Rude Pundit remarks,

There’s the questions for Bush II’s surrogates: how do you define flip-flopper? Was Bush I a flip-flopper? Would you have condemned him for changing his mind? Would you have condemned him for being willing to learn through experience?

Would Li’l George, in other words, choose to belittle his own father for having displayed the sort of wisdom and pragmatism that he himself so thoroughly lacks, in the same terms he is now using to bash his opponent?

Anyway, now that I’ve brought Kerry into the discussion, I suppose it’s fitting to conclude this post with yet another mystery quote. Who, in 1992, said this?

After completing 20 planes for which we have begun procurement, we will shut down further production of the B-2 bomber. We will cancel the small ICBM program. We will cease production of new warheads for our sea-based ballistic missiles. We will stop all new production of the Peacekeeper [MX] missile. And we will not purchase any more advanced cruise missiles. … The reductions I have approved will save us an additional $50 billion over the next five years. By 1997 we will have cut defense by 30 percent since I took office.

Yep, that’s right, it was G.H.W.B. again. Which casts the right-wing élite’s relentless attacks on Kerry’s “anti-military” Senate voting record in rather a different light.

React! [3]

Permalink 18 September, 3:03pm

Zero.

I have never been arrested. Ever. And there you have my answer to One Simple Question—yet another matter on which Li’l George and his Amen Corner appear to have developed a severe case of collective amnesia.

React! [0]

Permalink 18 September, 11:31am

Amnesia.

In the summer of 1972, George W. Bush turned 26.

As you’ve seen, I can account for my whereabouts in 1990-91, when I was 26, and also in 1972-1973, when Li’l George was 26.

And I can honestly say that during those periods, I left no commitments unfulfilled, broke no promises, and did not otherwise fail to live up to anyone’s expectations, least of all those of the United States government during a time of war.

Why can’t George?

React! [2]

Permalink 18 September, 11:23am

1990.

In the autumn of 1990, I turned 26. I had just moved to Portland, Oregon, from Honolulu, where I had been living for the previous two years. Through my ex-boyfriend Rick, I had met a man, also named Rick, who ran what amounted to a multi-level marketing company selling silver Liberty dollars and who needed someone to help with general office work and marketing. I took the job. The company’s name was U.S. Monolith, and it was located in a historic downtown Portland building that also housed an upscale health club.

I was living in a studio apartment at 2215 NW Irving Street. My rent was $335 a month. The apartment had a Murphy bed, a small white-tiled bathroom, and a small kitchen. I had a white 1987 VW Golf that I had bought new in Quincy, Massachusetts, and that had already been shipped back and forth from the West Coast to Hawaii. It had a big dent in the right rear quarter-panel, which was caused when I tried to pass a stopped Honolulu city bus and had to swerve into it to avoid an oncoming car. Every Saturday morning I’d walk over to Gabriel’s Bakery and pick up one of their fabulous cinnamon buns, then I’d stop off at Coffee People to get a Black Tiger™ latte (“The Coffee That Drinks You”).

During that same autumn, I joined the Portland Gay Men’s Chorus. Shortly after I joined, I received a hand-turned coffee mug with my name, the phrase “PGMC: My Kind of Chorus” and the year “1990” stamped on it. I still own that mug. The chorus rehearsed once a week in the Metropolitan Community Church building in Northeast Portland. Afterwards I would occasionally visit my friend Paul, who lived in a high-rise building right next to the Lloyd Center—except when the chorus would descend en masse to a local watering hole, usually Joq’s Tavern or Stark’s.

React! [0]

Permalink 17 September, 8:10pm

1972.

In the autumn of 1972, I turned eight. I was attending the French International School in Washington, D.C., which at the time was split between two campuses. (It still is, but the two current campuses are both in Bethesda.) The one to which I went every day while I was in the neuvième class (the approximate equivalent of third grade) was on Ellicott Street between Reno Road and 36th Street. One of my teachers was Monsieur Eury, who one day shocked us all by exclaiming, “J’en ai marre!” in response to a particularly dire episode of bratty behavior. That was the year I learned the multiplication table. I carried a hand-drawn table that I had filled in with various colors, one for each column, and then “laminated” by covering it with Scotch tape.

Two years earlier, my family had moved to a two-story brick house at 3740 Appleton Street, NW. It cost $42,000. Our phone number was 686-6339. My bedroom was the first one on the right at the top of the stairs. My sister had a larger, adjacent room, which had a window that opened onto the roof of the back porch; we could, and did, go out there to commit various acts of mischief. When the weather was nice, I would walk or bike to school, and sometimes I’d go through a big park where there were lots of big, beautiful Osage-orange and chestnut trees, and sometimes during our lunch break, my classmates and I would take our lunchboxes over there and kick fallen chestnuts and Osage oranges around.

React! [1]

Permalink 16 September, 7:48pm

Wealth.

I’m poor.

What that means in American terms is: I don’t have a car. I live in a small apartment without a yard or even a balcony. My TV is about five years old, and I bought it used. It’s been about eight months since I bought any clothes. I am forced to vacuum my own floors, wash my own dishes, and—indignity of indignities—iron my own shirts. And although I’ve traveled extensively, I’ve never flown business or first class.

In other words, there are some things I want that I can’t afford. And that, to many of my compatriots, is the very definition of unprosperity.

However.

I just found a site called the Global Rich List, which provides a useful reality check to anyone in my position, or indeed anyone at all in what the Economist (but far too few others) refer to as “the rich world.” According to the site, which is sponsored by the charity CARE International, my current income (now that I have one!) makes me the 153,565,218th-richest person in the world, which means that there are 5,846,434,782 people out there who are poorer than me.

I’m sure that those who find it expedient to ignore the existence of (relative) poverty in the U.S.—those whose motto is “I got mine, so fuck you!”—will seize upon this as evidence that there really is no such thing. Even a poverty-level American wage puts you among the richest 12% or so of the planet’s population. But that, of course, is missing the point, which is that anyone leading even the most ordinary middle-class lifestyle, a lifestyle of the non-rich and non-famous, ought to be grateful for what they have. And generous toward those less fortunate, which is pretty much everybody.

React! [3]

Permalink 16 September, 8:29am

Dissonance.

React! [2]

Permalink 12 September, 3:25pm

Revenge.

Back in January, I (and others) speculated about the possibility that the Democratic nominee might lose the popular vote but win the Electoral College—which, as Republicans have been reminding us nonstop ever since November 2000, is the only election that matters.

Now it’s time to turn this into a fearless prediction. Using the latest state-level data from electoral-vote.com, along with 2000 popular vote totals adjusted for differential population growth and possible increased turnout in 2004, I have determined that the outcome of the election will be as follows:

George W. Bush will receive at least 2 million more popular votes than John Kerry, but Kerry will win the Electoral College.

So there.

React! [12]

Permalink 12 September, 12:28am

Next page