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View Diary: Coburn Amendment, on the floor (435 comments)

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  •  I think this amendment (none)
    carries funds for bike trail improvements in my area of Virginia. For me this little bit of money my Congressman fought for is a good thing: for quality of life, environment (more bikers and walkers to work = less cars on the road), attracts more businesses, etc.

    If this is the same bill then it's a good thing. Yeah the "bridge to nowhere" sounds wasteful, but I hate to see the good aspects lost.

    Besides there are other places to get money for Katrina relief such as those tax cuts for the rich!  Sen Landreu had some good ideas in one of her speeches.

    "conservatives are the worshipers of dead radicals".

    by gandalf on Thu Oct 20, 2005 at 02:54:45 PM PDT

    •  I really hate to be rude (4.00)
      but this kind of thinking (gee, I really feel sorry for all those po' black folk down there in NOLA, but I don't want to sacrifice my posh little bike path to them)....is a big part of the problem in this country.

      Yes, tax cuts for the super rich would be ANOTHER place to start, but face it: to the poor and homeless in NOLA, guess what? YOU are "the rich," I am "the rich"--"those people" probably can't so much as imagine who the "real" rich are.

      Gawd, I'm just sitting here looking at your "bike trail improvements" and shaking my head.

      "My country tis of thy people you're dying." -- Buffy St. Marie

      •  Thanks for the memory (none)
        My country tis of thy people your dying!  What a relevant song for today, and I hadnt thought of it for 30 years.  I should dig out the lyrics but seems that they are so apropos in these times...
        •  Hmm. And I haven't been able to get it (none)
          Now that your big eyes have finally opened,
          Now that you're wondering how must they feel,
          Meaning them that you've chased across America's movie screens.
          Now that you're wondering how can it be real
          That the ones you've called colorful, noble and proud
          In your school propaganda
          They starve in their splendor?
          You've asked for my comment I simply will render:

          My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

          Now that the longhouses breed superstition
          You force us to send our toddlers away
          To your schools where they're taught to despise their traditions.
          You forbid them their languages, then further say
          That American history really began
          When Columbus set sail out of Europe, then stress
          That the nation of leeches that conquered this land
          Are the biggest and bravest and boldest and best.
          And yet where in your history books is the tale
          Of the genocide basic to this country's birth,
          Of the preachers who lied, how the Bill of Rights failed,
          How a nation of patriots returned to their earth?
          And where will it tell of the Liberty Bell
          As it rang with a thud
          O'er Kinzua mud,
          And of brave Uncle Sam in Alaska this year?

          My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

          Hear how the bargain was made for the West:
          With her shivering children in zero degrees,
          Blankets for your land, so the treaties attest,
          Oh well, blankets for land is a bargain indeed,
          And the blankets were those Uncle Sam had collected
          From smallpox-diseased dying soldiers that day.
          And the tribes were wiped out and the history books censored,
          A hundred years of your statesmen have felt it's better this way.
          And yet a few of the conquered have somehow survived,
          Their blood runs the redder though genes have paled.
          From the Gran Canyon's caverns to craven sad hills
          The wounded, the losers, the robbed sing their tale.
          From Los Angeles County to upstate New York
          The white nation fattens while others grow lean;
          Oh the tricked and evicted they know what I mean.

          My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

          The past it just crumbled, the future just threatens;
          Our life blood shut up in your chemical tanks.
          And now here you come, bill of sale in your hands
          And surprise in your eyes that we're lacking in thanks
          For the blessings of civilization you've brought us,
          The lessons you've taught us, the ruin you've wrought us --
          Oh see what our trust in America's brought us.

          out of mine for thirty years.

          My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

          Now that the pride of the sires receives charity,
          Now that we're harmless and safe behind laws,
          Now that my life's to be known as your "heritage,"
          Now that even the graves have been robbed,
          Now that our own chosen way is a novelty --
          Hands on our hearts we salute you your victory,
          Choke on your blue white and scarlet hypocrisy
          Pitying the blindness that you've never seen
          That the eagles of war whose wings lent you glory
          They were never no more than carrion crows,
          Pushed the wrens from their nest, stole their eggs, changed their story;
          The mockingbird sings it, it's all that he knows.
          "Ah what can I do?" say a powerless few
          With a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye --
          Can't you see that their poverty's profiting you.

          My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

      •  for the record... lyrics (none)
        Here are Buffy Saint-Marie's lyrics.  The song as I recall was about the plight not just in American Indian history, but the plight that much of the true story of American (government) conquest and treatment of Indians was overwhelmingly whitewashed.  

        My Country Tis of Thy People Your Dying.......

        Now that your big eyes have finally opened,
        Now that you're wondering how must they feel,
        Meaning them that you've chased across America's movie screens.
        Now that you're wondering how can it be real
        That the ones you've called colorful, noble and proud
        In your school propaganda
        They starve in their splendor?
        You've asked for my comment I simply will render:
        My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

        Now that the longhouses breed superstition
        You force us to send our toddlers away
        To your schools where they're taught to despise their traditions.
        You forbid them their languages, then further say
        That American history really began
        When Columbus set sail out of Europe, then stress
        That the nation of leeches that conquered this land
        Are the biggest and bravest and boldest and best.
        And yet where in your history books is the tale
        Of the genocide basic to this country's birth,
        Of the preachers who lied, how the Bill of Rights failed,
        How a nation of patriots returned to their earth?
        And where will it tell of the Liberty Bell
        As it rang with a thud
        O'er Kinzua mud,
        And of brave Uncle Sam in Alaska this year?

        My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

        Hear how the bargain was made for the West:
        With her shivering children in zero degrees,
        Blankets for your land, so the treaties attest,
        Oh well, blankets for land is a bargain indeed,
        And the blankets were those Uncle Sam had collected
        From smallpox-diseased dying soldiers that day.
        And the tribes were wiped out and the history books censored,
        A hundred years of your statesmen have felt it's better this way.
        And yet a few of the conquered have somehow survived,
        Their blood runs the redder though genes have paled.
        From the Gran Canyon's caverns to craven sad hills
        The wounded, the losers, the robbed sing their tale.
        From Los Angeles County to upstate New York
        The white nation fattens while others grow lean;
        Oh the tricked and evicted they know what I mean.

        My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

        The past it just crumbled, the future just threatens;
        Our life blood shut up in your chemical tanks.
        And now here you come, bill of sale in your hands
        And surprise in your eyes that we're lacking in thanks
        For the blessings of civilization you've brought us,
        The lessons you've taught us, the ruin you've wrought us --
        Oh see what our trust in America's brought us.

        My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

        Now that the pride of the sires receives charity,
        Now that we're harmless and safe behind laws,
        Now that my life's to be known as your "heritage,"
        Now that even the graves have been robbed,
        Now that our own chosen way is a novelty --
        Hands on our hearts we salute you your victory,
        Choke on your blue white and scarlet hypocrisy
        Pitying the blindness that you've never seen
        That the eagles of war whose wings lent you glory
        They were never no more than carrion crows,
        Pushed the wrens from their nest, stole their eggs, changed their story;
        The mockingbird sings it, it's all that he knows.
        "Ah what can I do?" say a powerless few
        With a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye --
        Can't you see that their poverty's profiting you.

        My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

      •  Thanks (none)
        People, you need to understand.... All of these earmarked projects are important to someone, or they wouldn't be in there. But they're not important to the country. They all need to go, even the nice bike paths in Virginia. If  the people of Virginia want bike paths, they should pay for them, just like the good people of Ketchikan (all 50 of them) should pass the hat and collect $225 million if they want a new bridge.

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