Monthly Archives: July 2014
Book Review: An Atheist in the Foxhole
A Liberal’s Eight-Year Odyssey Inside the Heart of the Right-Wing Media
Joe Muto
Muto started out at Fox News as a production assistant and made his way up to a senior producer for the O’Reilly Factor, all the while containing his progressive roots. For just under 36 hours Joe Muto was the “Fox Mole” and leaked behind-the-scenes videos to Gawker. He tells about his experience at Fox News over the years and it wasn’t all bad. Sometimes I found myself giggling at Hannity or Bill O’Reilly jokes, but at other times I understood Bill. It also really allows you to experience the evolution that Fox has gone through. I would recommend this book to anyone, especially my republican friends who buy into their bullsh*t!
“Hilariously details the inner workings of the cable news network.”
—NEWSWEEK
“[Muto shares] laugh-out-loud looks inside the Fox newsroom from the O’Reilly/Hannity ego clashes to the is-Palin-really-that-dumb revelations.”
–EXAMINER.COM
Refugee Deportations Kept Private [sector]
I have recently discovered information that would lead me to assume that Texas has contracted with Akal Security to deport immigrant refugees. To public knowledge, only one plane load have been deported. I have a source who works for Akal Security– Brownsville, Texas– he says himself, two other officers, and a nurse are traveling by plane to Central America “twice a week” deporting who they refer to as “inmates.” I am unclear on the sex, or age of these refugees. My source expresses that it’s “an easy job, because the people are no problem.” He seems oblivious to the controversy. A plane is scheduled to deport more refugees this Wednesday, July 23; traveling to Honduras. Why haven’t these deportations been made public? Perhaps they are not legal. Half a week to process a whole flight full of refugees and grant them all a chance at asylum is just too short of time and way too efficient.
Elizabeth Warren’s 11 Commandments of Progressivism
– “We believe that Wall Street needs stronger rules and tougher enforcement, and we’re willing to fight for it.”
– “We believe in science, and that means that we have a responsibility to protect this Earth.”
– “We believe that the Internet shouldn’t be rigged to benefit big corporations, and that means real net neutrality.”
– “We believe that no one should work full-time and still live in poverty, and that means raising the minimum wage.”
– “We believe that fast-food workers deserve a livable wage, and that means that when they take to the picket line, we are proud to fight alongside them.”
– “We believe that students are entitled to get an education without being crushed by debt.”
– “We believe that after a lifetime of work, people are entitled to retire with dignity, and that means protecting Social Security, Medicare, and pensions.”
– “We believe—I can’t believe I have to say this in 2014—we believe in equal pay for equal work.”
– “We believe that equal means equal, and that’s true in marriage, it’s true in the workplace, it’s true in all of America.”
– “We believe that immigration has made this country strong and vibrant, and that means reform.”
– “And we believe that corporations are not people, that women have a right to their bodies. We will overturn Hobby Lobby and we will fight for it. We will fight for it!”
And the main tenet of conservatives’ philosophy, according to Warren? “I got mine. The rest of you are on your own.”
WWMLKD?
One word: Nigga. This word seems to have lost it’s meaning to the general population over the course of the last couple of decades. It’s become a part of our daily conversations. It has become a word used to symbolize camaraderie, a word glorified by Hip-Hop and Rap music. How can we forget that less than 200 years ago, this word was used to label African American slaves? These slaves were treated horrifically, because of who they were and it was no fault of their own. This word carried so much weight that African Americans accepted themselves as being nothing else but “niggers,” and believed it; they were dehumanized by this word and the god awful message it carried. How can we forget that only 50 years ago this word carried a vile, repugnant, and hateful meaning in our modern America, post civil war? Men and women were discriminated against for being African American and were called this derogatory term with the sole purpose to degrade and insult. But even more importantly, how can we forget the people who devoted their lives to changing the American views and leaving that word with such horrible connotation behind? To say this word non-chalantly brings disrespect to the best activists that America has ever seen. I can not imagine Martin Luther King ever condoning the use of the word or enjoying hearing people say “Martin is my nigga.” I cannot fathom the amount of disrespect and disappointment someone who was involved in civil rights movement might experience in this day and age to hear this word used the way it is, being that they still live today. They fought so hard to get away from this word, to lead the African American race in a new direction, to prove themselves more than this hateful word. They put forth their blood, sweat, and tears into making the African American race recognized as people, not “niggers.” Neal A. Lester, dean of humanities and former chair of the English department at Arizona State University says “The word is inextricably linked with violence and brutality on black psyches and derogatory aspersions cast on black bodies. No degree of appropriating can rid it of that bloodsoaked history.” The next time you might use this word, ask yourself what Martin Luther King would do.
She Does Not Know Who I am, or Where I am From
“I wish I got free food,” whispers an older woman standing behind me at the grocery store check out register. She has never laid eyes on me before. She does not know my name or who I am. She does not know where I live or where I am from, but there is one thing she is certain of: my family and I are lazy, dependent, undeserving, and her hard-working family is the sole reason I receive food stamp benefits. I don’t bother responding to these kind of comments, because I know that nothing I say and nothing I do will amend her prejudice toward me. What I wish I could tell her and what plays repeatedly in my mind as I load my groceries and make the drive home is my story, and how I got here.
Since 2010 my mother’s health has experienced a rapid decline. First being diagnosed with Hyper Tension, then Fibre Myalgia. Then came the Lupus, which beat my mother down to a point in which I never wanted to see. Like the strong person she is, she quickly adjusted to life with her newly diagnosed, non-curable disease. More recently than not she began experiencing symptoms she had never before. She felt tingling in her toes and fingers. In a matter of weeks it turned into her hands and feet. Before she knew it, her extremities lost feeling completely. My mother lost all dexterity and was unable to button her own pants, clasp jewelry, or open a bag of chips. Then came the petty-mall seizures that took complete control of her legs. Her legs would cramp and seize uncontrollably for periods up to half an hour. I would pull her toes open to keep it from spreading up as my little sister waled out of fright. I would lay my body weight over her knees to keep them from bending and spreading the cramp up to her quadriceps as my mother wept. After months of tests and doctors appointments they were able to narrow down the list of things that it could be. There were 2 very plausible explanations– Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (also known as Lou Gerhig’s disease) and Cancer. Doctors later found a tumor in my mother’s spinal chord. She was ordered immediately to take medical leave from her job. With my mothers health the way it had always been, she never had available sick or vacation days; she used them all for doctors appointments. So when my mother stopped working, she stopped receiving an income. Trying to keep a roof over our heads she went through her savings and retirement very quickly. There wasn’t much security there because we’ve never lived comfortably and generally always lived hand to mouth. She pawned her rolex, wedding band, and jewelry she inherited from her mother to pay for the rent, but as the end of the month approached, she came closer and closer to losing her healthcare. My mother had no choice, but to scramble together the little money she could to pay her $700 premium. If she lost her health care, she would lose her life, and I would lose my mother, so paying that was our top priority.
Sooner than I’d hoped and weeks before graduation, we were evicted. We could not afford another apartment big enough for us to live together, but my mother’s best friend offered her a place to live. I had to grow up faster than I could have ever imagined. Within weeks time I had to become independent and figure out where the hell I would live. My boyfriend and I apartment hunted for about a day and found a place cheap enough for us. With the help of my aunt and one of the scholarships I had received days prior, I was able to pay the first months rent, the security and pet deposit, and the first months electric. Soon after, I began working on the Wendy Davis Campaign and used my check for the next couple months’ rent and some back payments my mother had, but we just weren’t making it. We finally decided to apply for food stamps, because we would take any help we could get. After months, it came through.
Some people think, my mother and I are at home, eating free food, drinking mojitos, and having some R&R. But the reality is $150 a month, a measly $1.44 per meal between the two of us. To get this little bit of help from the government it took the downfall of my mother’s health, our complete financial collapse, losing our home, and becoming separated.
The next time you’re in line at the grocery store, behind someone using SNAP or Food Stamp benefits, and you would like to say something such as, “I wish I got free food,” think about what it takes one family to get $150 a month for groceries and ask yourself why you’re not receiving these benefits. Then, appreciate those reasons.
Jose Antonio Vargas
“Bout time that POS got arrested”
“Attention whore line jumpers like @joseiswriting are a disgrace in comparison to those that choose to come here legally.”
“One down — 20,000,000 illegals to go!”
Reading these hateful words being said about a fellow activist, scholar, and contributing member of society, or anyone for that matter, is disturbing and perplexing. Call me compassionate, but I could never utter, much less conceive such bigoted rhetoric. I applaud Vargas for the endless work he has done for immigrants. To these mean people he is just an “illegal,” but to myself and many others he is a hero…
[I realize that “mean,” sounds a bit elementary, but I have no other word in mind that could possible portray the reflection of these comments more accurately.]
My Mama
Growing up, my mother was a busy woman. She traveled a great deal and left me in the hands of Carmen– an undocumented Mexican immigrant. Often times Carmen was my only company, but she didn’t speak English. I adapted and soon enough Spanish would be my first language. Being that Carmen was from Tampico, I learned proper Spanish. I spoke it with a heavy accent, zeal, and pride. This immigrant woman, whom people saw as illegal, lazy, and dirty, I saw as amazing. So much so that I even called her “mama” and she called me “mijita.” More than a language, she taught me to respect the struggle of undocumented citizens. Like many others, Carmen didn’t have a say in the matter of where she would be born. She was born with chains weighing her down; and became an economic refugee of Mexico. After having three children she decided to free herself and her family from her Native country that did not welcome opportunity. She went on a journey in search of a place that her children would be proud to call home; America. To be more specific, the Rio Grande Valley– my home. Carmen courageously swam across the Rio Grande River and arrived here with nothing but the clothes on her back and the will to work. Over the course of eleven years, I observed the difficulties she endured while not having papers in America. What took one citizen a day to do, took Carmen a month. This includes finding basic necessities such as housing, transportation, having electricity, and finding a job. I came to the realization that America is not an immigrant friendly place and it broke my heart. The country that I respected and held up so high, hated my mama. But my god, my mama loved it. Carmen loved a country that treated her like a criminal; one that would deport her family if given the opportunity. Carmen would lay down her life for this country, but this country saw her as the enemy. Carmen had more pride in America than many of us have collectively. What is citizenship anyway? What makes an American? A social security number is only that– a number. A birth certificate is just a piece of laminated card stock. These things don’t make an American. But Carmen, she makes an American.
To the Left, To the Left 