AIPAC of wolves in the halls of power

M and 9th Streets NW, Washington DC: Big-head war-criminal Bushie and a Code Pink activist duke it out like champions outside the Washington Convention Center during this morning's bit of the AIPAC conference.

As I was strolling past on my way to work, Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid, Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and House minority leader John Boehner were inside the Convention Center doing.... whatever it was they were doing in there.

AIPAC? That's what this was?

Living in DC encourages news-junkie behavior, and I'm as guilty as anyone. But I need to detox once in a while, and go into a self-imposed current-events exile. It's like a purification ceremony.

Thus, I've been in total news-blackout mode for a while, and I had no idea the big American/Israeli dry-humping fest was going down. All I knew was, for the past three days, there have been an UNGODLY amount of chartered buses traveling in police-escorted convoys across downtown, to and from the Convention Center.


I hop off the 79 bus at 9th and M for work, so that puts me in the thick of the action in the morning. Yesterday, I finally looked past the dozen or so idling buses at the fluttering banner and saw it was the annual American/Israel policy conference.

Ah. Okay, so that explains it.

But still, I don't care who you are: Congress-folk, executive branch, visiting foreign heads of state: Ain't NOBODY important enough to warrant all that noise and gridlock.

These are supposed to be the leaders of democratic nations, right? So how the hell can they be expected to sensibly govern the "free world" if they're carted around like emperors? Sends the wrong message, says I.

If you're a high-ranking diplomat and you're due to attend or speak at a conference of global importance, just book a room at a decent hotel somewhat close to the venue and get there early, like any of us normal peons would. Jesus Christ, y'all, you'd think there was an air-strike on Capitol Hill or something.


And that's another thing: seems like it's wasting the DC Police Department's time, putting too many officers on duty guarding empty buses while they idle outside the convention center.

At least Code Pink was there to lighten the mood this morning.

Extended family politics

Georgia Avenue at Columbia Road NW, Washington DC 3mar08.

Cthulhu in '08: It's official.

In what will be hailed as the Final Triumph of Democracy, Great Cthulhu has won the coveted spot of Supreme Commander of these United States.

The poll conducted here at IntangibleArts was a basic off-the-rack Blogger widget, added to the page in an intoxicated spasm of patriotic craziness. The poll's headline was SELECT YOUR NEXT PRESIDENT and it remained on the site for two weeks, slowly collecting votes.

But why such a collection of oddballs? Because honestly, the current race for the White House is doomed to mimic all the others: The fascist madman or the "mostly harmless" one. The best we can hope for is an alternating pattern between fascism and mostly-harmless-ism, to even out the damage, if you dig...

So this was a race I could get behind, worthy of the great IntangibleArts name.

Voter turnout was a bit on the light side: some 0.0084% of those who visited this site during the poll actually voted. But that's GOT to be higher than the turnout during the Reagan/Mondale race of '84, I'd say.



Cthulu The Great, The Candidate Who Cannot Be Described and Whose Visage Inspires Unspeakable Fear and Torment, captured a majority vote of 46%.

Boyd Rice, legendary noise musician, social darwinist and tiki-bar enthusiast, came in second at 23%.

The Silver Surfer and eternal DC mayoral underdog Faith tied for third at 15%.

And poor Vermin Supreme received no votes at all, which is shocking. His public relations engine was mighty, and clearly he was a Man of the People. Or a Person of the Man. Or something.


PHOTO: Great Cthulu rests in Lafayette Park, gazing across Pennsylvania Avenue at the Very Big White House he will inhabit soon.


The Silver Surfer succeeded in mobilizing the youth vote, but it simply wasn't enough to compete with the unspeakable fear of having one's soul eaten.

Now, the stage is set for Cthulhu to lead (and ultimately consume) this land with Boyd Rice as his second in command. With Cthulhu's grisly image and Boyd Rice's public speaking skills, they are destined to be a strong team. An unstoppable force.

After the poll closed, a mighty parade of Cthulhu and Rice supporters thundered down Pennsylvania Avenue, chanting Rice's "TOTAL WAR" anthem, while symbolically swallowing the souls of cab-drivers and tourists as they passed. They marched aggressively to Martin Denny's polynesian lounge music and waved huge banners that read:

CTHULHU and RICE:
MORE THAN A COMPLETE PROTEIN.

When it was all over, Freedom Plaza and the White House lay in ruins. Cthulhu paused for a moment, picking his teeth with a human thigh-bone and contemplated his victory.

"Yeh" he said, "this one beat the HELL outta Reagan/Mondale..."

A nice doomsday

Pennsylvania Avenue, at the membrane between the White House and reality. In the foreground is the last surviving "peace park" vigil, as it has stood since 1981. By the late 1980s, there was a dense colony of protest-shelters down there. Since I left DC thirteen years ago, the Avenue has been closed to traffic and the vigils cleared out. ... Miraculously, this one remains. I moved back to the DC area last summer, and the park is still haunted by the shadows of those who used to live there, with their signs and leaflets. Where there was once a unique micro-culture, there is now the stale taste of suburban laundry detergent and disposable cameras. "Peace Park" has become "Lafayette Park" once again, but we still have Concepcion and her Doomsday sign to keep us humble.