A Tortured Presidency

The savage campaign to delegitimize Barack Obama is a stain on our history. But it offers no excuses for him, nor us, to not pursue justice in one of the darkest chapters of our history.

By Tim Connor

Seven years ago I set aside a platter of cynicism to caucus in my community for the candidate who eventually became the nation’s first black President.

I don’t exactly remember the ratio of hope to disgust behind that decision. The war in Iraq—induced with false pretenses and fabricated intelligence—had become an expensive, bloody quagmire. Worse, still, was Vice President Dick Cheney’s pronouncement in September 2001 that the U.S. would go to the “dark side”  and use “any means at our disposal” to fight terrorism. This not only led to the shame of Abu Ghraib but to the sanctioning of physical and psychological cruelty as a tool of national policy. Along the way, the Bush Administration twisted arms and minds to euphemize torture as an “enhanced interrogation technique”  and, in so doing, basically put the U.S. government in moral league with Latin American drug lords. Continue reading A Tortured Presidency

With Flag in Pocket

A Mid-life Leap Across Football’s Gender Barrier

By Mary Harvill

With the radio on, I was driving toward Spokane along Highway 2 in early June when an opportunity jumped out at me.

“…We really need more football officials because we cover three hundred plus youth football games each year,” the voice said.

Such was the demand for new referees, the voice continued, that it was likely applicants would actually get to work games in the coming season.

I can imagine the audience to whom this plea for help was intended. I didn’t imagine it was an invitation aimed at a widow with a daughter just out of college.

But why couldn’t it be me? Continue reading With Flag in Pocket

By the Solstice’s Thin Light

 

 

Making Our Mothers Laugh

The joke is always some variation on us running around the house naked, shouting, “I got the balloon!”

By Jamie Borgan

It’s two days after Christmas. I’m sitting at a dining room table that’s been stretched to accommodate my friend Teresa’s extended family while, half comatose from overconsumption of sugar, we try to corral fourteen people into playing Turbo Cranium.

Continue reading Making Our Mothers Laugh