A Bumpy Road
She had a message. She delivered it. She got arrested. She dumped the democratic political party. She resigned as the exalted chief war protestor. Well, sorta. Now, she's back and may run for Congress.
House Speaker Nancy Pelosi is her latest target. Cindy Sheehan issued Granny P an ultimatum to file Articles of Impeachment against George W. Bush within two weeks or to move over.
What spurred Cindy to come out of her very short retirement was allegedly that Libby's commutated prison sentence was too much to fathom. It's America, Cindy! For Pete's sake girl, get a grip.
Sheehan does have a way with words but it isn't a gifted one. Often her speech has been unacceptable. So much so that yougins must cover their ears to shield them from language their parents don't allow them to hear. To say she has engaged in nasty name calling of the President and Vice-President is a sharp understatement, but of course she is free to do so.
After fessing up to attaching a wicked adjective to her reference of George W. she explained how the profanity unexpectedly shot out because at that time she was emotional and outraged. Actually, our nation has given Cindy a lot of leeway for rational and irrational behavior by citing the tragic death of her son, Casey, a 2004 Iraq victim as her motivation. Like it or not, she is dragging us through her grief stages. Assuming there are five stages, we have a long way to go. So, brace yourselves.
She claims that young Casey died to make George W.'s rich friends richer. Maybe so and she has the right to speak her mind. But the use of public profanity in an effort to articulate her criticism is a neon sign that she is attempting to grasp something out of her maturity reach. The inappropriate language merely reflects Cindy's mixed frustration, desperation, and roller coaster state-of-mind. It does get attention for her.
Misconduct doesn't become acceptable because it occurs during a catastrophe. While it is true that unhappy circumstances are some times used to minimize a bad deed and the harm that results, neither can be erased.
Sheehan claims she will utilize the Independent platform to challenge Pelosi, but her platform is not independent, democrat, or republican. It is Radical with a capital "R." Her mission appears to be grounded on the exploitation of Casey's death, though she, no doubt, would attach favorite adjectives in her response to such a suggestion.
Cindy's endorsement of President Hugo Chávez was like splashing hot pink polka dots on a red-orange wall. A pointed insult. There are boundaries even in politics. Perhaps she should explore her calling in Venezuela?
PeaceMom's wardrobe will never pass muster on the Hill. Unlike Granny P's Barbie fashion show, Sheehan uses little make up, has wind-blown hair, and wears T-shirts that better articulate messages than those spewed from her mouth. Granted her clothing budget would be 1/1000th of Nancy's. Cindy would be well supplied for every domestic and foreign event with seven pair of new blue jeans, twenty new T-shirts, and a pair of army boots.
Imagine her on a sensitive foreign peace trip in a far away land.
CongressGal Cindy, uninvited, drops in on Bashar al-Assad at his Syria palace. With a ruggedness, she sways into his elegant forest green and antique gold study, hikes her leg and rests her boot on his royal red velvet chair. She brandishes her T-Shirt that says, "I'm not Granny P."
"Got some business to do with ya, padner," the CongressGal murmurs as she rolls her fingers around the tooth pick, then jabs it at her tooth. “As John Wayne would say, 'Life is hard; it's harder if you're stupid!'" She groans and stares right into those dark eyes defined by long lashes and waits for the dictator to respond.
The dark eyes stare back but otherwise there is no response. Impatient, PeaceWoman pushes, "scuse me, Sir? You speaka Englis?" Then suddenly it dawns on her that Bashar al-Assad isn't a woman and the eyes staring at her belong to a woman.
Feeling duped but careful not to show it, the CongressGal sways back through the front door with slow, deliberate movements while holding up a peace sign; jumps in the waiting Humvee; and yells, "Head 'em up, guys! Move 'em out! Russia is next, then Haiti."
This could be a movie for Michael Moore. The wanna-be CongressGal may already be in line for a slice of royalty.
© Coninc., TheDownsideUp.Com 2007
House Speaker Nancy Pelosi is her latest target. Cindy Sheehan issued Granny P an ultimatum to file Articles of Impeachment against George W. Bush within two weeks or to move over.
What spurred Cindy to come out of her very short retirement was allegedly that Libby's commutated prison sentence was too much to fathom. It's America, Cindy! For Pete's sake girl, get a grip.
Sheehan does have a way with words but it isn't a gifted one. Often her speech has been unacceptable. So much so that yougins must cover their ears to shield them from language their parents don't allow them to hear. To say she has engaged in nasty name calling of the President and Vice-President is a sharp understatement, but of course she is free to do so.
After fessing up to attaching a wicked adjective to her reference of George W. she explained how the profanity unexpectedly shot out because at that time she was emotional and outraged. Actually, our nation has given Cindy a lot of leeway for rational and irrational behavior by citing the tragic death of her son, Casey, a 2004 Iraq victim as her motivation. Like it or not, she is dragging us through her grief stages. Assuming there are five stages, we have a long way to go. So, brace yourselves.
She claims that young Casey died to make George W.'s rich friends richer. Maybe so and she has the right to speak her mind. But the use of public profanity in an effort to articulate her criticism is a neon sign that she is attempting to grasp something out of her maturity reach. The inappropriate language merely reflects Cindy's mixed frustration, desperation, and roller coaster state-of-mind. It does get attention for her.
Misconduct doesn't become acceptable because it occurs during a catastrophe. While it is true that unhappy circumstances are some times used to minimize a bad deed and the harm that results, neither can be erased.
Sheehan claims she will utilize the Independent platform to challenge Pelosi, but her platform is not independent, democrat, or republican. It is Radical with a capital "R." Her mission appears to be grounded on the exploitation of Casey's death, though she, no doubt, would attach favorite adjectives in her response to such a suggestion.
Cindy's endorsement of President Hugo Chávez was like splashing hot pink polka dots on a red-orange wall. A pointed insult. There are boundaries even in politics. Perhaps she should explore her calling in Venezuela?
PeaceMom's wardrobe will never pass muster on the Hill. Unlike Granny P's Barbie fashion show, Sheehan uses little make up, has wind-blown hair, and wears T-shirts that better articulate messages than those spewed from her mouth. Granted her clothing budget would be 1/1000th of Nancy's. Cindy would be well supplied for every domestic and foreign event with seven pair of new blue jeans, twenty new T-shirts, and a pair of army boots.
Imagine her on a sensitive foreign peace trip in a far away land.
CongressGal Cindy, uninvited, drops in on Bashar al-Assad at his Syria palace. With a ruggedness, she sways into his elegant forest green and antique gold study, hikes her leg and rests her boot on his royal red velvet chair. She brandishes her T-Shirt that says, "I'm not Granny P."
"Got some business to do with ya, padner," the CongressGal murmurs as she rolls her fingers around the tooth pick, then jabs it at her tooth. “As John Wayne would say, 'Life is hard; it's harder if you're stupid!'" She groans and stares right into those dark eyes defined by long lashes and waits for the dictator to respond.
The dark eyes stare back but otherwise there is no response. Impatient, PeaceWoman pushes, "scuse me, Sir? You speaka Englis?" Then suddenly it dawns on her that Bashar al-Assad isn't a woman and the eyes staring at her belong to a woman.
Feeling duped but careful not to show it, the CongressGal sways back through the front door with slow, deliberate movements while holding up a peace sign; jumps in the waiting Humvee; and yells, "Head 'em up, guys! Move 'em out! Russia is next, then Haiti."
This could be a movie for Michael Moore. The wanna-be CongressGal may already be in line for a slice of royalty.
© Coninc., TheDownsideUp.Com 2007
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