When we consider the potential for governmental abuse, many aspects can be cited. The aspects are also perceived differently when personal political spectrum is an additional filter through which people view governmental action. What is viewed, as an extreme example of abuse by the government from a person with very progressive political views will be seen as sound governmental policy by a more conservative person. What makes governmental abuse so problematic is this very divergence about what meets the criteria for being an abuse.
In the case of the United States, two fundamental legal traits help define governmental action. The first is that of the practicable implementation of English Common Law precedential review. In this manner, governmental action is limited by the progression of legal principle as time has passed. No judicial extremes are likely since precedent serves as moderation upon governmental action. The government is actually forced to apply previous standards and practices to its inherent rights when it attempts to apply legal foundations for non-explicit rights. It is often the progression of precedence that ultimately prevents or curtails the government's ability to enforce non-explicit rights.
Further limitations upon the government are found in the second fundamental legal trait that defines governmental action. The Constitution and The Bill of Rights combine with the other amendments to the Constitution to reserve explicitly most governmental power to the individual States of the republic. In this manner, Federal authority is limited specifically so those great changes in republican policy must be the result of either amendments to the Constitution or a reconvened Constitutional Convention of the several States. In this manner, enough inherent rights have been granted to the Federal government to enable it to function effectively while still allowing for the inherent retention of all power not enumerated explicitly to the several States as being prime. The federal government thus may attempt to expand its powers but it is forced to do so by appeal to the explicit rights enumerated to it. In cases where such rights are not explicitly enumerated it must resort either to Executive Order or to Congressional Law that is subject to judicial review. Even if the Federal government employs such a strategy, no laws are ultimately immune to resistance by the several States because of the ability to amend the Constitution or reconvene the Constitutional Assembly.
The problem with the diad of foundation on the United States government application of power is that there are many areas of ill-defined scope and needs. While exclusive right to a free press is guaranteed constitutionally, how does English Common Law affect such a right? Is slander protected? This is where the idea of precedential law was developed into a new type of precedential review. The idea that the Constitution is a living document with fundamental character and principles that are adaptable by judicial interpretation has allowed the pre-existent practice of Common Law to become a changeable system of modifiable standards which does not require the Constitution to be explicitly changed when subjected to judicial review. In this way issues such as equal protection of rights has been defined at each stage of the country's development by interpreting who is qualified as a protected party, not by explicit enumeration to members of a class or group through amendment. By applying contemporary interpretation to legal principles, the Constitution has not had to be fundamentally altered as the role of government has changed.
Interpreting the Constitution has largely been the responsibility of the judicial branch of the government. The actual basis of this review rests upon the early judicial branch practicing a policy of selective review. It allowed issues of legal status to be decided outside the normal considerations of partisan politics and timetables. The very refusal of the Supreme Court to review cases where it had direct explicit right to decide such issues insulated the Constitution from convenient changes based upon Congressional or Executive whim. Further interpretation was augmented by the authorship of the Federalist Papers that acted as a sort of appendix to the Constitution, which supplied the intentions of the authors.
The current political landscape is not fundamentally different from any other period of our governmental development. We still have precedential review and the principle of Constitutional interpretation and amendment. However there is a current problem as related to the ability of the several States to be able to enforce their reserved rights. There has been no sudden change or amending of the Constitution, which has resulted in the eroding of the States' rights. What has happened is that the relative importance and utility of the several States individually have been eclipsed by the concentration of governmental power and authority at the Federal level. This has largely been due to the inability of the States to fulfill their intended role when compared to the constraints of modern governmental norms and the necessity of many traditionally state-centric rights being usurped because of more convenient applications of those rights at the Federal level. When the States seek relief from this trend in federal action at the judicial level, their efforts are failing.
For example, the Federal government is explicitly granted the right to regulate trade between the several states. While initially this was intended to prevent barriers to federal commerce across state lines, and allow the Federal government to protect international trade, it has become a de facto administration of nation wide standards and systems that remove individual choices for the several States. No state has the financial ability to dictate and control its own internal transportation infrastructure. Even allied regional systems are beyond the administrative abilities of the several States. What has happened is that the states allow federal taxation and redistribution of taxes to act as convenient agents for standardization, construction, implementation, and administration. In a sense, the current practice has been for the Federal government to determine policy goals and the several States provide the funding in exchange for not having to provide policy implementation on the state level independently of the other several States. When states challenge the existence of un-funded mandates the judiciary has usually turned down their appeals.
It has been through the agency of treating the reserved rights of the several States as a simple monetary exchange that has brought current possible governmental abuse to a higher potential. Instead of independently determining specific governmental roles, the several States have enacted a de facto policy of relinquishing most of their enumerated and reserved rights to have them administered and implemented by the Federal government. This alone is not a bad exchange. The states do have the right to release independently themselves from federal administration. They can simply choose to ignore meeting a federal mandate and implement policy on their own if it is compatible with the Federal Constitution. The only drawback to this strategy is the loss of federal funding in spite of any outflow of funds from the state through taxation. The potential exists for a state to have already released its funding through taxes to the Federal government, choose not to meet a federal mandate, and be required additionally to tax its citizens to meet its self created mandate.
The potential for governmental abuse of power is thus based upon the states having placed themselves in the position of being unable to exercise their enumerated rights because they have adopted a governmental system which requires them to fund other states along with self funding their own internal programs. The net effect is that the several States now find themselves attempting to have the same amount of economic inflow from the federal level when compared to the outflow. The Federal government has countered this by adopting a policy known as the unfunded mandate. The Federal government still receives the outflow of taxes, and still sets general policy and program goals, but requires the states to create independent funding for these programs without additional federal funding.
The desire of the states to have federal funds to enable implementation of enumerated rights reserved for the states has created a system where federal congressional control of distribution has become the focus of the congressional representative. This had lead to the development of political parties, which are based no longer upon differing political principles but upon differences in distribution of federal funds.
The origins of breakdown in political differences can be traced to the Great Society and War on Poverty programs. Unlike the programs of the Great Depression that were implemented during times of economic austerity, these two programs were implemented during times of aggressive economic growth. The theory behind these two programs was that if the Federal government was allowed greater control over the economic activities that effected the lower classes, the lower classes would see a substantial growth in economic activity while relieving states of the responsibility to these classes.
The problem with this strategy was that the programs were incredibly ineffectual. The rates in poverty did not decline but only became worse. Chief indicators of economic activity such as stability of the family unit, employment, education, housing ownership, and personal income all degraded in the lower classes that were supposedly being helped by the disbursement. Instead of discontinuation, Congress instead chooses to develop ever more complex implementations of programs and increased funding. When considering the potentiality of discontinuation, the states were faced with the fact that the funding of these programs would be withdrawn leaving urbanized and rural states equally unable to support the now dependent lower classes. Considering this, states began to demand their congressional delegations to seek aggressively as much federal funding as possible.
The political parties which had previously represented divergent political theories about economic policy now found themselves having to exchange political theory for the need to secure economic funding from federal sources. The irony is that most states would have been able to self-fund and administer internal programs more cheaply than if they continued reliance upon federal funds. Congressional success was no longer based upon adherence to political philosophy but instead upon how successful a politician was at retrieving more money from the federal coffers than his home state sent to Washington D. C. Party affiliation became dependent upon economic success in bringing home the bacon and not upon how effectively a politician implemented a party platform. Whether Republican or Democrat, what now mattered more was your ability to achieve pork. The major source of party support was no longer dependent on political philosophy, but economic support based on federal funding. As long as a state political party continued to deliver the federal funding, their political support went largely unchallenged.
Considering this new political reality, states and political parties found themselves in difficult situations. States had allowed their rights to become subservient to federal economic funding. Political parties had allowed their principles to become dependent upon delivering federal funding back to their home districts. The irony is that the Federal government was the least efficient way to distribute funding based upon the results achieved and the administrative costs involved. However breaking away from the federal cycle has thus far proved nearly impossible. Apart from a tepid attempt to decentralize welfare in the late 1990's back to the state level, no serious attempt has been made to dismantle the failed social programs system at the federal level.
The strange alliance against dismantling of this system has been forged between some states and components that make up political parties. In the case of states, those states that currently receive more funding than they send out in taxes have allied with those states that have limited governmental administration resources. Urban states as New York would find it prohibitive to continue current social welfare programs because of the numbers of citizens who receive such costs. States such as Montana, which is largely rural and decentralized, would find themselves unable to foot the administrative costs associated with delivering benefits to the relatively few recipients in the state. While both would have funding problems for differing reasons, neither type of state could afford to continue the federal style social programs as they now exist under federal control.
For political parties dismantling of the current social welfare system would jeopardize political support. In the case of the Democrat Party, the lower class urbanized poor supporters would likely decline political support if all federalized programs resolved back to state control. Likewise, the Republican Party would lose support of its large base of retired elderly voters who depend upon programs such as Social Security and Medicare. In principle, the Republicans stand for fiscally conservative programs and limited governmental control. The Democrats stand for socially responsible policy and aggressive support for individual rights. Instead both parties find themselves continuing a policy of unlimited governmental program growth and a diminution of personal rights based upon ever increasing mandated entitlements. It is neither fiscally conservative nor socially responsible in the long term because eventually funding will become impossible and result in entitlements being discontinued.
The abuse of the States enumerated rights is evident in this Catch-22 situation. While most states could individually create more efficient programs, they cannot because the funding for these programs is already in the federal de facto control. The political parties both stand against such control in principle but upon different basis. The Democrats champions of individual rights should demand that no individual be taxed in a way that requires him to support people regardless of need. The Republicans should be demanding that it is fiscally irresponsible to create dependent classes of people out of otherwise economically capable people. The fact is that because of expediency under the current system it is easier to erode further States' rights and ignore political ideology in favor of aggressive retention of federal funding.
The ironic part is that while political affiliation used to be a defining attribute of political activity, it has ceased to be so. In almost all matters requiring congressional vote, the final deciding factor is usually economic gain. For example, consider the request by the military to be allowed to close military facilities. Beginning in the early 1980's, the military began to request that many facilities be closed for the simple reason that they were no longer needed. Various tactics for delay were often used. The key defining aspect of facility closure has usually been associated with the annual funding of facilities being shifted to the state where the facility was being closed. Instead of a cost saving to the Federal government, the Federal government no longer had use of a facility but still funded the state as if the facility was still functioning. In spite of the Federal government having the explicit and enumerated right to the determination of military policy, the States have infringed upon that determination by holding funding hostage.
Another classic example of federal funding involves the federally mandated speed limit, which was imposed during the Arab Oil embargoes of the 1970's. While the Federal Congress has the explicit enumerated right to regulate interstate commerce, it does not have the right to regulate intra state commerce. For western states, a 55 MPH speed limit was extremely onerous when the condition of travel upon state thoroughfares was considered. On state built and county built roads, it did not matter what the engineered travel capacity was for the road. It might be as straight as an arrow and level for hundreds of miles. The speed limit was limited artificially by the 55 MPH barrier. However, if a state chooses to raise the speed limit on its roads, federal funding for the Interstate system contained in the state would automatically be removed. The result would be a federal mandate that the state was responsible for without agency of federal funding. This was a clear abuse of a State's right to self regulate. It required several threatened lawsuits to compel Congress grudgingly to loosen the maximal speed limits.
The paradox of abuse is that the solution and cause are economic. If the States retained the right to develop, fund, and administer social programs most states would find that their overall tax burden would drop while retaining current performance. Instead, they allow their right to self-determination of government to be abused by adherence to the current system of federally mandated distribution. The solution to this problem is not likely to be found in either mainstream political party. For the same reason, both parties cannot afford to risk political power by reforming the current economics where the States willingly give up constitutional rights through economic policy. The benefits of abandoning such a system would be large.
The abuse of constitutional rights inherent in the current system should be an affront to both political parties. However, the individual citizen is often faced with a choice between maintaining the incumbent who brings home federal funding, or a challenger who claims he can bring home more funding. When faced with such a decision, where the only difference is in the potential economic return, political ideology is seldom a component. Often voter influence is determined by which campaign raises the most money. The logical choice for the voter is usually focused on the fact that the candidate who raises more money campaigning usually has more political contacts, which translate into political influence that enables federal funding of programs in the local district after the election. Other than the Democrats stand on abortion, or the Republican stand on prayer differences in ideology are usually irrelevant when it comes to election cycles. Even when candidates are examined on personal merit alone, most voters simply vote with their pocketbook.
The solution to many of the fiscal problems and failures of social programs as currently set up could be radically corrected by either political party if either party would vote on political principle instead of economic principle. Why should the Democrat Party continue to vote for social programs that have been declared disasters by the General Accounting Office? If they are not working should not they be demanding a socially responsible program that does work? Should not the Republican Party refuse ever-increasing funds to these programs based upon the principle that if trillions have been spent and nothing has improved, trillions more spending are not responsible? Should not both parties be championing the rights of States to support constitutionally and govern their citizens? Are we as a nation satisfied with these failed policies and comfortable with indistinct parties that ignore Constitutional abuse?
One possible root cause for this inability of either major party to act is the Seventeenth Amendment to the Constitution. This Amendment rewrote a key factor in how the States are represented. Before this amendment, election of Federal Senators was the responsibility of each States' government. In most cases, a senator was elected by members of the state's congress. While the people directly elected members to the United States House of Representative, the members of the United States Senate were beholden to only the congress of their home state. This is a crucial fact. A senator would hold power based upon how he upheld the rights of his state as a member of the republic. His ability to serve was not compromised by populist considerations insofar as political choices were made based not on how his home state's population wanted him to vote, but instead on what was good for the state as a member of the federal republic.
This freedom to vote against populist sentiment is what used to allow the members of the Senate to curtail the exuberance of the directly elected House of Representatives. As was intended by the authors of the Constitution, a member of the Senate could exercise statesman politics without fear of political expediency. A senator could vote against a budget, which eroded his home state's rights even if such a budget was supported by populist sentiment. A senator's longevity politically was based upon his ability to serve the whole state and not just because he was able to ingratiate himself to the populist demands of his home state. The problem with such an approach was that it was possible, and even probable, that a political party with a slim statewide majority could monopolize the party affiliation of both senators.
The Seventeenth Amendment did provide relief from this problem. It created the direct election of senators by popular vote. In states with divergent political polities, it became possible for senators from different parties to both hold office without regard to the party currently controlling the state government. A senator now could be elected by appealing to an agrarian polity and avoiding a metropolitan polity where he and his party were politically weak. The drawback to this was that political longevity for a senator was based on pleasing the polity that elected him and not always considering the ultimate rights of the state as a member of the republic. In short order, senators became just as beholden to their constituency as their lesser members of the House were.
The result has been that senators now have the luxury of their extended term with which to work in meeting the desires of their constituency instead of the needs of their state. A senator now finds himself just as committed to pork spending as a member of the House because if he does not bring back economic benefit to his home district, his district will not reelect him. A classic example of this was Senator Sam Nunn of Georgia. Senator Nunn worked his way up into a position of party importance that allowed him Chairmanship of the Armed Forces committee. While most people agree that he was a fair and effective leader of this committee, the political influence he wielded was translated into economic power in his home state. Nunn funneled tax funding into Georgia's many military bases and he aggressively protected those bases from closure in spite of federal need. When he ran his final election for senate, his chief argument against his republican opponent was that his defeat would mean economic ruin for Georgia because a Georgian senator would no longer head the Armed Services Committee.
Voters in Georgia rightly understood the implications of a possible defeat of Senator Nunn and returned him to office for purely economic reasons. In spite of complaints by members of the Democratic Party that Nunn was a Democrat in name only, his political beliefs were simply over ridden by voters fearful of having to endure facility reductions and base closures. In this specific case, we see a glaring example of how the state of Georgia was poorly represented. If Nunn had been beholden only to his state house, he very probably would have been replaced by a person who acted more in line with the political ideals of the Democrat Party. His replacement may have seen how keeping and increasing funding of un-needed bases was an unacceptable use of taxes. He would have been free to vote his party's ideology and block budgetary actions by the House without fear of political costs. In short, the senator could have acted as a statesman concerning the recognition of the fact that the republic as a whole did not require federal bases on Georgian soil. Instead, Nunn used his impressive political power to economically benefit his electorate and abuse the republic as a whole by requiring taxation for un-needed facilities.
The aftermath of Senator Nunn's retirement has been evidenced in the reductions, closures, and eliminations of many military activities in the state of Georgia. The temporary and artificially enlarged expenditures of tax money now having been removed, much of the economies that came to rely on this tax money have collapsed. Which brings into focus the issue of abuse because of the forced economic consideration of every state's congressional delegation. Because of direct election, Senators have become enablers of ever-larger federal spending schemes. Their capacity for increasing spending is evidenced by the fact that senatorial campaign spending has skyrocketed as economic interests contribute to their campaigns in an attempt to ensure post election access. Senate election contributions often have a substantial part of their funding originated in national trade groups and multi national conglomerates. The actual contribution by individual constituents makes up a fraction of the total campaign costs. In worst-case scenarios, this funding means that ultimately, a senator is not beholden to his constituents or party affiliation.
So if a senator is not beholden to his constituents what has the Seventeenth amendment accomplished? It has resulted in political affiliation becoming a minor component of how a senator votes. It has meant that the campaign cycle and fund raising have become a constant component of a senator's term of service. It has meant that the rights of a state as a member of a republic has been diminuated because of a senator's own political needs for election. It has removed the capacity of the senate as a whole to resist budgetary excess by the House. Ultimately it has turned the Senate into a body which seeks to exchange political votes at the expense of the idea that the senate is the part of Congress which seeks and forms long term solutions to the benefit of the federal republic and by extension, to the people of their home state.
In this paper, an attempt has been made to show how political party ideals, state rights as members of the republic, and excessive economic manipulation of taxes has left the average citizen poorly represented. Judicial review has become the only means by which a political party's agenda can be implemented because Congress has become devoted to economic returns on political power. National parties have found that party dogma often has little chance of support in Congress. Because any change in budgetary outlays equally cripples both national parties, neither party risk true policy implementation in Congress. States have found themselves trapped in an economic exchange of taxes which diminishes both their individual rights and forces them to remain committed to failed federal policy. The Senate has been transposed into a body that no longer seeks to protect the rights of the several States but into a body, that exchanges political votes for economic gain.
This is an abuse of both the government and the governed. Neither national political party has the ability nor will to implement their policy goals because of the economic risks inherent in implementing their party political goals. States individually cannot additionally fund independent programs when they already find themselves trapped in a commitment to funding these programs at the federal level. The executive branch finds that the apportionment of funds and services often has little to do with need, but more to do with congressional political influence. Finally, the citizen of a state often finds himself trapped into having to deal with poorly functioning federal programs that do not meet the needs of the citizen.
If you are a liberal or conservative, the continuation of this abuse should equally offend both political views. While issues and solutions such as publicly financed political campaigns and term limits have been proposed, none of these solutions gets down to the core issue of the economic nature of federal politics. To end this abuse, both parties should equally embrace the wisdom that indirectly elected senators brings to solving the problem of pork barrel spending and expediency at the expense of party political platforms. With senators no longer held prisoner to the campaign cycle and providing politically motivated economic programs for their home state, Senators again could act as statesmen and consider congressional actions based on how it effects the republic as a whole and their states individually. Unless such a system is amended to the constitution, we will find ourselves trapped in the current congressional abuse with only executive orders and judicial appeals available to attempt a curtailing of the abuse.
Copyright © 2003
Friday, October 3, 2003
Repealing the 17th Amendment to the United States Constitution
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
The Disney Death March
You know it has been awhile since I took a vacation. I may need another one after this one is over. You see I am in Florida at Disney World, or maybe Land. I have not ever been able to get that straight. I do know it is not Euro-Disney since I have not come across snobbish Frenchmen, and I know it is not Disney Japan because I would have committed Hari Kari by now. I can say for sure that I am certainly at a temple of high worship to the invincible Mickey Mouse. In the early 1980’s movie “Enemy Mine,” Dennis Quaid told Louis Gosset Jr’s character that the highest god on Earth was Mickey Mouse. I found that comment humorous at the time. Now I know Mickey to be one of those “vengeful” gods who demand blood sacrifices.
This worship started so innocently. Back in May, Alricurn’s Mom decided it would be nice to celebrate the impending retirement of her husband by taking the clan to Disney. I learned that if I was still a shiftless and useless boyfriend, i.e., out of work, that I would have no choice in the matter of going along as well. To all those people who never even bothered to read my meticulous cover letters and resume I condemn you to worship futility at the high alter of the black mouse. A simple damnation to Hades is too good for you.
Anyway, when I agreed to this Devil’s bargain back in May, I was certain that by the time October appeared that I would be again gainfully employed. Months passed by, and frankly, I forgot this bargain. I continued as if this particular Sword of Damocles was not directly over my head. I concerned myself with Microsoft Certifications, painting a house and putting up crown molding. By the time September came around, I was more freaked out about being unemployed and unable to buy an engagement ring than I was about visiting a mouse in Florida.
Sadly, Alricurn’s Grandfather died at the end of September. He was certainly the foundation of her family and is now deeply missed. It seemed that a visit to Disney was the least likely event to happen after such an untimely circumstance. Even Alricurn was certain that the trip was off and suggested that maybe we would be better off visiting Disney some time in the coming year. That she and I were also attempting to overcome a severe gastric flu/bacteria problem also served as a final point in the case against visiting the mouse. Put bluntly, we were too busy worshipping the “Porcelain God” even to consider being 40 feet from a toilet, let alone 467 miles away in another state.
Well, I had not counted on Mickey’s evil agent from Colorado. Alricurn’s aunt, make that “crazed” aunt had driven from Colorado to be a pestilence upon the funeral proceedings. This is the woman who informed us that she needed to “clip her toenails” at the pre-internment viewing and abandoned the service in less than five minutes. To put it bluntly, this woman drove my future father-in-law to the point of near insanity with her incessant spending sprees and demands for her entire inheritance before her mother had even had a chance to mourn her loss of her husband of fifty years. To put it bluntly my future father-in-law was at wits end in dealing with his idiotic sister.
After the funeral, the subject of the black mouse was brought up. Initially Alricurn’s mother agreed that they would probably not go to Florida, and if they did go, it would be for only part of the time they had booked for their vacation. We drove back home to nurse our GI tracts back to health on PowerAde and Jell-O. Imagine our surprise when we learned that they would be in Florida on Monday. We were going to Disney and nothing would prevent it. It seems that the crazed aunt had pressed one too many buttons. My future father-in-law could not even escape his sister by playing games on his new retirement Xbox video game in peace. Dolby 5.1 digital audio explosions were insufficient to drown out the incessant demands of his sister from Colorado.
We were dealing with a command performance. We had to attend. Neither of us wanted to attend. We tried to use the excuse “We have no one who can care for our furry dog children.” It did not work. Thankfully, Alricurn had a doctor's appointment on Monday so we avoided having to carpool with her parents when they drove down on Sunday. My future father-in-law thinks fifty-five mph in a seventy mph speed zone is a suitable travel speed. Furthermore, he has a predilection to slamming on his brakes in caliper warping panic stops. Finally, he dose not smoke so I would have been even more of a bag of nerves than normal when having to be the alien force which has captured his daughter’s heart and attentions. I never thought I would say this, but thank God, for the illness which required Alricurn’s doctor appointment.
The journey to visit the mouse began on Monday with preparations. I spent the day doing battle with the pile of laundry, and attempting to clean red clay off the white kitchen floor from Hell. Alricurn went to the doctor and ran errands around Athens to finish a week worth of responsibilities in only one day. We finally had dinner around 9:00 PM. Then we sat around like giddy kids dreaming of cartoon character overload. Even our sitting in the hot tub for hours until 3:00 AM could not calm us down enough to sleep. Some time around 4:00 AM, we finally managed to sack out. I did wake up at 6:00 AM but was told to go back to sleep.
It was now Tuesday 11:30 AM, and I was still in Athens, very sleepy, looking for my glasses, and wondering why it was so bright outside so early in the morning. Then it dawned on me that I was supposed to be half way to the mouse. Being a good sport, I decided to ignore the time penalties which staying in a hot tub until 3:00 AM had caused. I also noticed the two messages on the answering machine that had been left at 7:00 AM. It was her sister checking to see if we had left yet. Apparently, one is not allowed to delay visits to the mouse.
By 1:30 PM, we were on our way from Athens, Georgia to Orlando, Florida. In addition, as an aside I would like to say that Microsoft Map Quest gave us excellent and accurate directions. It was an auspicious start to what would turn out to be a nightmare reserved for condemned criminals. David Bowie, Macy Gray, and Rush Limbaugh kept us company as we headed towards Macon to pick up Interstate 75. Even taking into account that the first two hours of our trip were on back roads, we were averaging a nice sixty-two miles each hour. I drooled with the expectation of getting to go seventy mph on the interstate. The drool was obviously a precursor to my impending doom of enduring highway construction.
Mickey must have been displeased with our delayed travel time. The sun and blue skies had been our ally in travel, but for some freakish reason unassociated with any weather front; the skies began to darken. However, our immediate problem was the Georgia Department of Transportation. It has been easily two years since I traveled the interstate below Macon. The last time I was traveling this way, the shoulders of the road were lined with bright shinny and new orange highway cones and barrels. Imagine my shock when I saw the same cones and barrels, just that they were now two years older. Yes, the GDOT had apparently managed to make a few holes and look busy without doing anything of substance for two years.
The true horror was that I was now traveling in a single file line on the sole lane of the interstate. I did see two other lanes right next to me that looked unused and rather freshly painted. In fact, these lanes appeared to be perfectly serviceable, except that they were on the opposite side of the orange perimeter wall. I also happened to be stuck behind a Winnebago. Forty-Five MPH for sixty-five miles. I think that if I had interpreted the oracle correctly that I would have realized that my home state was attempting to turn me back and prevent me from attaining Orlando. Nevertheless, I foolishly stuck to the mantra of having to meet Mickey in the off-season so I could have him to myself.
Then it began to rain. When I say rain, I am not talking steady and minorly annoying rain or mist. We are talking about primordial monsoon levels of rain. Rain so evil that windshield wipers and Rain-X window treatment could do nothing. As we crossed the Georgia-Florida border, we had now slowed to a creeping thirty MPH. We should have fled back to Georgia. However, we were heartened by the fact that if we could just make it to the Florida Welcome center we could relive ourselves, wait out the rain, and have some complementary orange juice. We got there at 5:30 PM. They close at 5:00 PM. Moreover, it was raining even worse.
Even with a nice golf umbrella, we were soaked walking the seventy-five feet from the car to the welcome center pavilion. The only thing open was the bathroom. My bathroom was out of toilet paper. After waiting until 6:00 PM, it had become apparent that the rain did not intend to slack off. We drove on and hoped for clearer skies. Finally, as we passed through Gainesville, it let up. We were supposed to be in Orlando by 6:00 PM. We were late.
By 7:30 PM, we were on the Florida Turnpike. It was the home stretch. Alricurn brought up the fact that we needed to get tickets for Disney. We were both delighted when we saw a prominent sign informing us that Disney tickets were conveniently available for purchase at every turnpike plaza. Although we did not need to stop, we decided that we would stop just for the tickets at the plaza that was between our exit into Orlando and us. I felt like I was in my childhood New Jersey and traveling its turnpike. My childhood memories of how New Jersey’s turnpike works were bolstered as we pulled off onto the Florida plaza. I was certain that our problems were behind us.
Before we went in to the building, Alricurn decided to call her parents and tell them that we were less than forty miles from them and to see if they needed anything. Her sister answered the phone. She wanted sunscreen and she proceeded to give us detailed direction on how to get to the condominium. The problem was that the directions she was giving were from US Highway 41; we were on the Turnpike and following a different set of directions from Map Quest. Suddenly we were late because we had not used the Disney “approved” travel directions that her sister had used. The phone was disconnected with a disgruntled “click."
Realizing we were on her sister’s shit-list, we decided that we could make up for the lost time by already having the tickets for Disney so that we would not have to buy them in the morning. We followed the prominent signs that said we could buy tickets for Disney in the plaza gift shop. It was 8:00 PM. We asked the nice and helpful attendant if we could purchase Disney tickets. The nice lady looked at us as if we were smoking crack. She then informed us that this particular location had not had Disney tickets in a month. She then picked up a display rack and placed it behind the store entrance. We then asked her where we could get the tickets and she said that the turnpike plaza at Turkey Creek had them. We thanked her, looked at our map, and saw that Turkey Creek would only be 32 miles out of our way. We decided that we would go and get the tickets there.
As we passed by our original intended exit to Orlando, we had no idea that we were wasting our time going to Turkey Creek plaza. We pulled into the plaza at 8:35 PM. We went inside and saw a large unmanned ticket sales booth. We also noted that the gift shop next to the booth had its security gate down and was closed. We then found out that the ticket sales and gift shops closed promptly at 8:30 PM. We had just been sent on a wild goose chase. Desperate to make this goose chase a little less than a complete waste of time, we decided to get at least something to eat. Since the Sabbaro Pizza stand was closed, we advanced on the Burger King stand. It was then that we saw three B.K. Thugs and their manager standing at the counter with aggressively crossed arms. Apparently, they were about to close in twenty minutes and hoped to scare off any more customers. Deciding that having our food spit on by disgruntled thugs was a high likelihood; we retreated. Cursing the woman at the first plaza, we returned to the turnpike and our original exit and made our way to the condominium.
We arrived just in time to let her father win a bet that we would be there before 9:00 PM. Her sister was attempting to sleep on a living room couch because she had declared that a “ghost” was upstairs in her bedroom. Her body language indicated that everyone should be attempting to sleep just like her. She had chosen to sleep on the couch in the living room. We announced that we had not eaten yet and we were going to get something to eat so that we did not disturb anyone by cooking something in the kitchen. We heard a barely audible disgruntled sigh from her sister. We had seen a Publix grocery store on our way in so we made our way to the store with the intention of getting one of their excellent sub sandwiches. As we pulled into the parking lot, it was apparent that Publix was closing at 10:00 PM. So, we switched to plan “B," Taco Bell. Actually Taco Bell was more like plan “G," since everything in Florida apparently closes at 10:00 PM. Pulling up to the drive through, I was amazed that Ricky Ricardo’s sister was taking orders in a thick Spanish accent. After several abortive attempts to get an order placed, we finally managed to get an order placed. Feeling lucky to have this horrid food we were nearly T-boned as we exited the parking lot by a Suzuki Sidekick going fifty MPH in a fifteen MPH zone. We carefully returned to the condominium. Sitting in the dinning room, we were obviously eating too loudly for her sister to be able to sleep. After abortive attempts at conducting conversation with her mother, everyone took the hint and retired to their bedrooms.
At 5:30 AM on Wednesday, the hurting began again. To the sounds of aggressive showering by my future sister-in-law, I awakened from sleep. I ignored it for a few minutes and even managed to fall back asleep. The next trick up her sleeve was the ever-increasing volume of TV noise. Also coupled to this was the growing decibel volume of “I wish they would get up because we are going to be late.” I wish I had ignored that mantra by playing dead. However, being the trooper I was I went and took a shower and dressed. At 7:00 AM, I woke my future bride. She was most displeased that I had chosen to wear my Oxford pinpoint instead of a less expensive shirt. She demanded that I save the shirt for job interviews and put on a Polo shirt. I, seeking to please her, immediately opted to change shirt choices and put on the much heavier shirt. It was a decision that I would regret.
By 7:10 AM I was awake dressed and downstairs. Her parents we very nice to me but her sister greeted me not with a cheery “Good morning” but instead with “We need to be leaving very soon." I still said ‘Good morning” anyway. They served coffee. Let us just say that my future in-laws think two scoops of coffee to 12 cups of water makes superior coffee. I realized that hot water just would not cut muster. So I decided I would have to get a Coke. But being sociable, I decided to avail myself of their TV and chitchat while Alricurn was busy waking up. It soon became apparent that her sister was miffed that we were not already at Disney. I decided I needed a paper to read to avoid having to talk with her about how woeful my sleeping pattern was where visiting Disney was concerned.
Therefore, I grabbed some change and went newspaper hunting. I found an Orlando Sentinel newspaper box and deposited 50¢ into the box. Door will not open. I smack it about a bit, still no paper. Miffed, I put two more quarters in. Same result again. Finally I began kicking the box and loosing my temper. Still no paper came out of that horrid little blue box. Giving up I went over to the soda vending machines. In the Coke machine, I see it will take $1 to get a can of Coke. I only have 50¢. Next to the coke machine is a no-name brand vendor. I skip the more exotic formulations and opt for the root beer. It is now 7:35 AM.
Walking back to the condominium, I make the acquaintance of a young boy and his grandmother. While calming my nerves with my Camel and drinking the god awful ersatz root beer, the little boy informs me proudly that he is to have breakfast with Cinderella. Apparently, this has been a bribe. I say this because as the little boy acted like a hyperactive child, his grandmother would say phases like “Cinderella would not want to have breakfast with a boy whose hands are dirty” or “Cinderella wont have breakfast with you unless you are a good boy.” I should have recognized the complete futility of existence when I saw the boy’s haggard parents emerge from their condominium and coaxed their child into the car with visions of sharing culinary delights with Cinderella. This was my first exposure to the effects of the Disney “March of Death.”
Feeling unjustifiably happier, I went back into the condominium and related to everyone the cute tale of the boy eating with Cinderella. My future sister in-law quipped that maybe I would be an early rising mouseketeer if I had reservations to eat at Disney. I bluntly replied that I do not eat breakfast, and that if I did eat breakfast I would not eat it with a cartoon. By 8:00 AM, we were on our way to Disney.
The planning began as the car door shut. While her father and mother seemed to be indifferent to planning the day at Epcot, her sister was adamantly looking at Epcot maps and planning the campaign. Mind you, this woman is in her late twenty’s, but she had the same dreamy and feverish look in her eyes as the little boy I saw earlier. It was apparent that she had a plan for the day and we were doomed to follow it. By 8:30 AM, we were parked in K-6 and walking rapidly to the front gate.
Of course we had to get tickets still so while we waited in line, Alricurn’s sister stood glaring at us because she already had her tickets. By the time we had purchased two days worth of tickets, which were much cheaper than I thought they would be, the sister was already planning where to eat. Now Alricurn and I have this book at home about being a tourist in Disney and it covered extensively those places either to patronize or to avoid when dinning on Disney property. I remembered that the German Beirgarten had gotten top marks for Epcot, and what is more important I knew it was one of the places that would serve beer. Having listened to the plan of my day, I had realized that by 2:00 PM I would probably need a beer. I was right. I thought that because my choice had been adopted that democratic choices would be the rule of the day. I was wrong. It was now 9:00 AM.
Ironically, I was to become oblivious to the passage of time for the rest of the day. It was not that I was enjoying or not enjoying myself. Why my conception of time became whacked was because I was about to embark on the Disney March of Death. Try to imagine two future-in-laws, their daughter and her boyfriend being lead through Epcot by a sister who equated only movement to rides, planning to move to rides by consulting maps, or actually riding a ride to be appropriate activities. Also, add to this incessant movement that only she was permitted to determine how the maps were to be interpreted, what the order of riding was to be and what the speed of the journey to each ride was to be. Here begins the origin of the Disney Death March.
Now I consider myself a rather flexible person when it comes to building consensus and making group decisions. In fact, I can usually guide groups to adopt my point of view. Because of this, Alricurn had told me that “Redskull” needed to take a break for the day and he was not to show his face. So I was rather attuned to the fact that polite manners and acquiescence were to be my role for the day. Besides, I had won the choice of where lunch was going to be. I could afford to be gracious. After all, I still had my sanity and my health and I was here to have fun. In hindsight I needed a nicotine patch, or several, and an unending supply of pure caffeine to have even a fighting chance.
The gates opened, and after the security screening
Once outside Guest Relations with our 2:00 PM reservations, I was taking in the entire scene. I was impressed but apparently did not have time to look at anything. The Dictator was advancing at full gallop upon the geodesic globe and the ride it contained. I vaguely remember this ride. I know AT&T sponsored it, and it had something to do with phones. As we exited, we were in some sort of festive plaza. Alricurn and I thought that now would be a good time to snap a few pictures, her sister was already leading the charge to our next ride.
I decided that it was pointless to run from point “A” to point “B” just to ride some attraction and skip attractions that are more “adult.” Seeing a hall of wonders, I suggested we go through it before we resumed our break neck speed to the next ride. The dictator was less than impressed with my reasoning. Alricurn and I pressed the issue by entering the pavilion. Inside there were tons and tons of incredibly cool stuff. The first exhibit was a demonstration and interactive exhibit of the Segway. Talk about cool. Alricurn’s father was mesmerized by it, as was I. The Dictator was not. We were deviating from incessant marching. She led the way deeper into the pavilion towards the exit. We tried to delay our exit by going inside the Motorola exhibit. As I exited, I realized that the Dictator was already exiting the pavilion and that I was not going to see any other of the twenty exhibits including the one with the new Honda Asimo Robot.
Outside the pavilion it was announced after consulting the map that we were headed to the General Motors test car ride. Leading the pack, the rest of us hobbled along after her. I felt sorry for Alricurn’s father and mother because after having walked at a breakneck pace in Sea World the day before, they were clearly showing signs of cardiac arrest and athletic zombiosis. The Dictator however had legs of steel. Being a walker of a normally tamer speed I refused to jog through the park. I soon found myself in tail dog and looking far ahead to see the rest of my party. I finally caught up with them at the GM pavilion. The line was huge.
According to the Disney time guesstimate, we were about to spend two hours in the line. Two hours of impatient glares and grunts from our rabid leader was not something to look forward to in my opinion. Luckily, everyone presented a unified front and vetoed the wishes of the Dictator. We agreed to come back later. The Dictator then announced that it was time to relive ourselves and broke off at a break neck speed towards the farthest restroom she could find on the map. Off we went jogging though the park dodging Disney strollers and lost guests. There was a line in the men’s restroom. As I exited the facility, I caught the glaring eye of the Dictator. I had taken too long to excrete urine. This was a black mark against my performance. I would have to do better.
We were standing now on the border between Epcot proper, and the walkway that lead to the International pavilions. I made the proposal that we simply continue clockwise around the park and avail ourselves of attractions as they presented themselves. Everyone seemed to like that idea. The Dictator did not. She announced we were going to the Exxon dinosaur ride and took off before we could vote on it. Soon she had built up a fifty-foot lead over the rest of us. It was march or die time. Unfortunately, we were traveling to the opposite side of the park. We ran.
We shortly arrived at the Exxon exhibit to find that we were dripping wet with sweat. The stupid white polo shirt I was wearing acted like a medieval torture device. It was then that we found out that the Exxon exhibit was not open yet. The Dictator announced, after consulting her accursed map that we were going to the “Body Wars” ride. Jogging again ensued. Soon we entered the pavilion and saw an incredible array of interactive exhibits that we apparently did not have time to see. We struggled to stay close to the Dictator as she mercilessly marched into the line for the body wars. Funny I felt prepared for war owing to all the boot camp drill in marching that I had had so far.
I will admit that the ride was cool. It was a little predictable but over all something worthwhile. The Dictator was obviously disappointed that we had not done triple loops backwards. As we left the ride my future father-in-law could not find his drink, which had been stored in the under seat cargo net. The Dictator did not wait for him and was displeased at his inability to march quickly. Back out in the pavilion I was just about to get to examine one of the exhibits when I learned it was time to see the Braintroop movie. Off we went. And for a pleasant fifteen minutes I have to watch a cute show about just how whacked out a twelve-year-old boy’s day could be. More importantly, I was able to sit.
As we exited that ride, the Dictator was already marching towards the door. Thankfully, we all serendipitously had to go to the bathroom at staggered intervals. Each of us went one at a time to the bathroom while the others were looking at the cool exhibits dealing with sensory perception. The whole time we did this, our sensory perception informed us that the Dictator was not pleased by the delay. We were not efficiently marching to rides. Finally, we ran out of bladders to empty and we were aggressively marched out of the building. As we exited, the Dictator informed us that the Exxon pavilion was now open and that we were riding it next. While Alricurn attempted to take pictures of the park, the Dictator was already entering the building.
Having to endure her sister’s harsh stares for dilly-dallying, we managed to form up behind her and enter the ride in an organized fashion. This was another seated ride. Able to relax my burning leg muscles, Alricurn and I exchanged whispered plans on how we could assassinate the Dictator. I think the ride was about energy, but the whispers in my ears and the screaming of my leg muscles made active perceptional enjoyment of my environment impossible. We soon found ourselves exiting the pavilion. I attempted to look at the endangered tiger program exhibit with Alricurn’s father, but the Dictator was already marshaling her reserves for another death march across the Epcot park again back towards the GM ride. Like a shot, she was off, only slightly concerned over whether we could keep up.
At this point, I am sure you are all wondering how bad this walking pace could possibly be. After all, when you visit a theme park you enter knowing that you are going to have to walk from point to point. You are possibly attributing my distress to being out of shape. I inform you now that I am a fit and trim 32-inch waist 5’11” 155 pound male. I used to run cross-country and I do not ever remember being so winded. The temperature was a nice steady 80 degrees. A light wind blew. Even with the auspicious weather, I was sweating like a slave picking cotton. All I can say is that my future family and future wife were also in the same condition. Only the Dictator was immune. She was a steel-legged ice princess.
She leads us back across the Epcot Park to the insipid GM pavilion. Ride wait time was now three hours. We were allowed to buy water while she demanded a map to determine what ride was next. I was loosing it. I smoked a Camel while having to view the Dictator’s obvious disgust. Two drags later, we were off to the International pavilions. I think the first one was the Netherlands. However, we were pretty much prevented from doing an in-depth investigation. We were only delayed slightly on our march because her father bought a fruit pastry and because the Dictator had to determine our next ride because the Viking Ship ride was closed for renovations. The Dictator took us at break neck speed to Mexico.
Constructed like an Aztec pyramid, the entrance alone had a ton of interesting things to look at. While Alricurn took pictures, I read the information on the exhibits. My future father-in-law appeared at my side and informed me that the Dictator was ready to ride the Mexico ride. Slightly pissed we joined the Dictator and her mother for a thoroughly pointless water ride. Trust me when I say the good stuff was in the exhibits and not in the ride. As we exited the ride, we stopped at a table selling Patron Tequila. You have no idea how much Alricurn wanted that bottle so that we could deaden the pain in our bodies. However, before we could take out our Yankee dollars, the Dictator had marched out of the building.
This was getting ridiculous. The dictatorship was obviously not working. The citizens were being marched to death and experiencing Epcot as if we had blinders on. I said as much to Alricurn. She told me that although she completely agreed with my diagnosis, Redskull the arch fascist was not allowed to make an appearance. Unable to get her to agree to a simple assassination, we suddenly found that we had to play march or die again to catch up with the Dictator who was now in China.
Somehow, we caught up and out of desperation announced that we were going into the shopping pavilion to look at cheap Chinese plastic toys and bricbrak. Her mother and father eagerly revolted to our cause. The Dictator fumed. She followed us into the shopping bazaar and served as a chaperon, whisking us away from the merchandise and towards the exit. As a delaying tactic, we scattered into the dark recesses of the bazaar. For at least thirty minutes the ruse worked. Then we learned that we were going to be late for lunch if we did not begin marching again.
Cowed, we assembled as a group outside the Chinese pavilion while the dictator consulted a map and determined the path of the next death march. We soon began jogging towards Germany passing at least two pavilions entirely. Luckily, Alricurn’s mother brought us to a stop in front of the American Pavilion. She wanted to see the main exhibit and needed to see when the next showing was. Winded, Alricurn and I took the opportunity to take a few pictures. Since Alricurn is an amateur photographer of considerable skill, part of her Epcot experience was to take interesting black and white photos. Her sister had no such concerns, had soon marshaled us into formation, and was dragging us towards Japan.
We valiantly attempted to divert into the Italy Pavilion, but were balked by her sister who refused to enter. Her mother in an attempt to cool her daughter’s hot temper stayed with her. Her father made movement to join us in Italy but submitted to the icy stare of displeasure of his daughter. Feeling rebellious, I entered Italy followed by Alricurn. We could have spent an hour in Italy alone. All told, we spent maybe ten minutes. Her father informed us that the Dictator was ready to move again.
March, march, and march. We were now in Japan. Nothing interested the Dictator about Japan. There are no rides in Japan. No ride means no need to stop. Noticing the faltering of her mother’s pace, we demanded quarter and begged to look in the Japanese gardens. The Dictator soon let it be known that looking at Koi and plants was not something she found to be purposeful. Shortly we found ourselves back on the main walkway.
The Dictator marched us to Germany. I was beat and needed a beer. We had thirty minutes to kill. While father and mother collapsed on a bench, Alricurn went to the edge of the lagoon to take panoramic pictures of Epcot. I fumed and smoked a Camel and wondered when I would be allowed to lose my temper. The Dictator must die.
We made our way to the German Beirgarten. It was everything it was cracked up to be and then some. Shouts of “Prost” and German festival music greeted our ears. As we were seated, I enjoyed the hundreds of raise beer glasses and smiling faces of other patrons. Then I looked at the Dictator. She was displeased greatly. Besides being disgusted by human sexuality, she is most disgusted at the prospect of alcoholic beverages. This Beirgarten was full of hops and barley. I also think she was unaware that Biergarten means “beer garden” in English. Smiling a secret internal grin, but feigning surprise that the mouse would permit such satanic beverages, I sat down at the table across from the Dictator. The Dictator ordered, “Water with Lemon." Her mother ordered the same so as not to offend her daughter. Being somewhat braver, her father ordered "Tea with Lemon." I asked what was on tap. Withering stares of death hit me. The Southern Baptist Dictator did not realize my ties to the Pope or that I was Catholic. I choose Beck’s Oktoberfest. Then to my pleasant surprise Alricurn added gasoline to the fire by ordering what I did. From the looks of the Dictator, we were already burning in Hell.
Then we made our way to the banquet buffet. Not one example of American food was offered. Consternation flashed across the Dictator’s mug. What could she possibly eat? Loading my plate down with wursts, spaatzle, and schnitzel, I was in heaven. Alricurn was amazed at the variety and loaded down as well. In fact, upon returning to the table, everyone except the Dictator had a mound of food. We also found that we had another couple now seated with us who had ordered beer as well. The Dictator gave them icy stares. Then the ompah band began singing in German. The Dictator was pissed. I must say that never in my life has a glass of beer tasted so good.
Nevertheless, the auspicious environment of the Beirgarten was not to be had for long. The Dictator announced that we had to leave or we would miss the show at the American pavilion. We were a ten-minute march from the pavilion. The next show did not start for forty-five minutes. In spite of this, delay was contraindicated according to the Dictator. In seconds, we were marching to America again. We sat in front of the American pavilion for the next thirty-five minutes. The whole time the Dictator made it evident that we should be marching to a ride. She also voiced displeasure over the strange food she had eaten. I offered to walk to the GM ride and scan our tickets for an afternoon ride. The Dictator scowled at the idea of one of the party being out of her visual sight and declared she did not want to ride it anyway.
I must say that Alricurn’s mother had excellent taste in wanting to see the forty-minute show in the American pavilion. I enjoyed it immensely. Unfortunately, Alricurn’s mother was so tired from the death march that she fell asleep five minutes into the show. After the show, we were consulting maps again. The Dictator was displeased. She wanted a ride and she wanted one now. I proposed that we simply continue our direction of travel, see the remainder of the pavilions, and return to Epcot on the opposite side of the lagoon. This made sense to me. I was wrong. The Dictator announced we were returning to the accursed GM ride.
Fueled by inedible German food in her stomach and her hatred of anything not associated with rides, the Dictator instituted a quick time double march back the way we came. Strung out by the insane pace we eventually found ourselves back at the same stupid ride. The wait was now two hours. The Dictator glared at us. I suggested we scan our tickets and move on to something else. Her father agreed. The Dictator scowled some more and suggested that we were wimps. We scanned the tickets. Then we noticed that the Floridian sky was about to drop buckets of water on us. We started looking for shelter. Her father suggested the huge complex in the center of the park. I agreed since we could go into the exhibit halls and huge Mickey Mouse shop we had bypassed earlier. The Dictator was insisting we go to the Aquarium on the other side of the park in spite of the rain. That was when the monsoon hit and made further debate impossible.
We made it to shelter. Everyone except the Dictator, wanted to go to the exhibits. The Dictator wanted us together and ready to move on the Aquarium as soon as the rain stopped. She proposed that we wait under a pavilion and not go into any of the exhibit halls or shops that way we would be the first to make our way to the Aquarium when the rain let up. For twenty minutes, we sat there. Finally, Alricurn and I announced that we were going into the Mickey Mouse shop instead of just waiting for the command to march. The Dictator was not pleased. We went shopping anyway.
We had been inside the shop for ten minutes when the Dictator appeared. She told us her mother wanted us to come back because it had stopped raining. Wanting to appease her mother, we exited the store. It was still raining outside. Her mother had not requested our return. The Dictator smiled at having stopped our shopping experience. After another fifteen minutes of rain, the Dictator announced that we were moving whether the rain had stopped or not. We were off to see the Aquarium. She soon had at least 150 feet worth of lead on us. I considered simply abandoning her. So did everyone else. The thought that we might abandon her also crossed the Dictator’s mind as she entered the Aquarium. She paused briefly and peered back over her shoulder to see if we were still following.
I cannot tell you much about the Aquarium. I do know that we were given a choice by Disney to enter the ride in one of two ways. The Dictator wanted to go directly to the ride; I preferred the opposite of what she wanted. Alricurn agreed with me. Rebellion was brewing. She attempted to lead right and we all went left. However, she would have the last laugh. It seems that the ride portion of the Aquarium is a fake elevator ride to the “underwater” laboratory. Feeling shortchanged by the ride, the Dictator herded us out of the building.
Now at this point all of you have to be asking why I had not killed the Dictator. Believe me I wanted to. I know Alricurn wanted to. I suspected her father wanted to. Her mother was simply too tired from marching to have the strength to kill her. However, what is hard to convey is the Dictator’s normal role in the family when not at Disney. It is easier to appease her than it is to go against her wishes. Her family has adopted this approach as a coping mechanism. I was forced to adopt it because I am the outsider. Resistance was futile.
The Dictator had us marching again. I was certain that the friction of my denim pants was going to cause heat rash on my thighs, a suspicion that would be proven correct later that night. I was also suffering the sweat drenched Polo shirt from hell. Generally, I was miserable. I half hoped to find a working time machine in Epcot so I could travel back to a time before Disney World was built and kill the Mouse and Uncle Walt. We arrived at the ride called “The Land." To say that this was a Greenpeace Eco-Terroristic inspired left-wing ride does not describe it enough. To say that it was what released Redskull does.
We waited in line for a good twenty minutes. Then we were ushered onto a boat and begun our journey. There was a live female announcer on our boat. Presumably, she was on the boat to provide a running commentary. She had a Lisp. She also Stuttered. Who in their right mind hires someone to be a tour guide who lisps and stutters? Lets just say that it was quite ironic and coupled with the warm fuzzy logic of eco-propaganda I began laughing. By the time we exited the ride I had a huge grin on my face and was actually laughing out loudly. The Dictator was miffed that I was enjoying myself. Alricurn explained away my sudden good mood. She was also worried. She realized Redskull was free and that things were about to get interesting.
The Dictator was in the midst of making an executive decision when I cut her off. I announced it was time to go to the GM pavilion and ride the ride that the Dictator had been denied so far. No one wanted to go including the Dictator, however I had a trump card to play. Our tickets had been scanned and we were using them. I then began a sane and moderated walking pace to the ride. Everyone was just slightly amazed that the Dictator could be overruled so easily. As I lead us towards the Pavilion, the Dictator caught up with me and attempted to retake lead dog. I stopped and said that we should wait for her parents to catch up and that there was no need to rush since we had a scheduled ride time. Miffed the Dictator silently waited. Everyone enjoyed the new pace. Well, except for the Dictator.
We arrived at the ride and the Dictator and her mother got in line. The rest of us went into the exhibit hall and spent the next forty minutes leisurely inspecting all the cool displays and automobiles. My mood was progressively improving. Amazingly after she exited the ride even the Dictator was smiling. Since my coup was going so well I decided to announce the next place we would journey to in the wonderful land of the mouse. I had the brass balls to ask what everyone would like to do next. On cue, Alricurn chimed in lets go back and see the parts of the International district that we skipped. The Senators of the republic voted for this choice and the Dictator, not wanting to lose face also agreed, taking lead dog position.
We were back to the old ways of dictatorship. We rapidly crossed Epcot again. Entering Canada, Alricurn and I saw a neat longhouse that looked like it came from British Columbia. We announced that we were going in and were followed by her mother. The dictator declined. While the girls sampled perfumes from Canada, I looked at the hockey display. After a few minutes we exited and all sat on some benches. The Dictator came up and smelled the perfume. She told Alricurn that her choice in perfume was very bad today. Her mother announced that it was just from the samples in the shop. The Dictator announced that we were departing. We had little choice but to follow her to England.
Once in England Alricurn tried several times to look at booths in the open-air market. No luck. So finally, we announced we had to go to the bathroom. Once done, I suggested that we split up, investigate England, and meet at the border with France in thirty minutes. I did not wait for an answer; I disappeared into a toy store followed by Alricurn. For thirty minutes, I saw some of the coolest stuff. Alricurn then wanted to look in the English tea store. As we were enroute, we saw her parents standing on the street corner under the baleful eye of the Dictator. It was obvious that they had been cowed. We cut our explorations short and met back up.
The Dictator announced we were going to France. Off again at a ridiculous march. Alricurn had had enough and she speed walked past her sister to take lead dog. She was presented with two walkways that both seemed to lead to France. She chooses right. It was a dead end. Gloating, the Dictator indicated that she should lead because she knew all the secrets of Disney and the rest of us did not. We sullenly followed her to the correct path. It just was not worth trying to outsmart the Dictator. Once in France, her father decided he wanted pastries from the bakery.
Alricurn and I also wanted coffee. That was when for the first time something besides a ride caught the Dictators eye. A person was wearing white body paint and looked as if she were a Greek statue. The Dictator was mesmerized. She refused to leave the vicinity. Alricurn, her mother, and I all beat it for the pastry shop. For the next thirty minutes, we enjoyed a cup of coffee and some excellent pastries. The Dictator finally showed up and simply raved over how cool the “statue” was. We grumbled a bit because she had passed tons of similar things all day. With an hour to go before the closing fireworks display the Dictator announced that we needed to claim a viewing spot.
Again, we were off marching. By the time we found a spot that suited her there was still forty-five minutes left to the day. Alricurn and I decided that we would go and browse the shops of France. Considering how low my opinion of France is in general, the idea of willing shopping for French gifts being agreeable to me lets you know just how disagreeable I thought spending forty-five minutes with the Dictator was. For the first time all day, we were finally allowed to look touch and feel at our own pace.
The Fireworks display was incredible and I do not intend to spoil it for anyone who has not seen it. I will say that in spite of the near constant marching, and general hostile experience of the day, the fireworks alone were worth all the pain and suffering. Apart from one final death march to the parking lot, the remainder of the day went off without a hitch.
There is a second day worth of Disney World to be told, but that will just have to wait for another time. I just figured the rest of you would enjoy this little story. My question is do any of you have a Disney Nightmare too?
Sunday, August 3, 2003
Abortion Constitutional Law
The right to be left alone free from governmental interference is pretty basic, and is neatly summed up in the Bill of Rights by removing unreasonable searches and seizures and removing from Federal control all rights now strictly enumerated to the control of the Several States.
The real issue behind abortion is the attempt by the people to determine what a citizen is. Again science has now indicated that the closer to term a mother gets the more obviously independent and human a fetus is. But if it ends its term as a full fledged human, does it not also imply that it must be human at its inception?
Consider, it took amendments to allow slaves to be citizens, women to vote, selection of senators which are all items which previously had been left up to states to define. Prior to each amendment, the Federal judges were forced to acknowledge the States rights to determine what a citizen was. Roe v. Wade is the first example however that I know of where the Court attempted to define a citizen for the state and justified this violation of the 10th amendment by assigning primacy to the 4th amendment.
The problem I have with the ruling is that it both supports and detracts from the Bill of Rights without amendment. When a right has to be supported in such a way it means that all parts of the Bill of Rights supersedes each other part, isn't very logical. The 4th and 10th are set up as equals with the 10th allowing states to determine all powers not granted to the Federal government. It would seem that Roe v. Wade should have been fought on a state by state basis to allow each state to determine what the definition of a citizen is.
Sunday, March 2, 2003
Human Shields in Iraq
I think the following is the most important "On Friday, the head of Sweden's largest peace organization urged human shields to leave Iraq, saying they were being used for propaganda purposes by Saddam Hussein. Maria Ermanno, chairwoman of the Swedish Peace and Arbitration Society, cited reports that Iraqi officials were arranging transportation, accommodations and news conferences for the human shields. "To go down to Iraq and live and act there on the regime's expense, then you're supporting a terrible dictator. I think that method is entirely wrong," Ermanno told Swedish Radio. AP-ES-03-02-03 1131EST
Saturday, February 22, 2003
Affirmative Action Anecdotes
I think affirmative action is wrong. Period. I think any discrimination which goes against choices made on individual merit are also wrong. If two contractors submit similar bids, then the county should choose the one with the established track record, lowest cost, and ability to complete the project quickest. That the chosen contractor happens to be black should not matter. In education, I think that if you are qualified, you will get in somewhere. If you are trulymotivated, you can trade up your academic success to another school. I started at a community college, I graduated from the oldest public land grant university in the nation. Three anecdotal notes. 1. Major repaving contract came up for bidding in our county. Three companies bid. The lowest bid, by $63,000.00 was owned by a white man. The highest by $132,000.00 was owned by a black woman <>. The black owned company was granted the bid due to it being a preferential treatment towards both engaging a black minority business and a female owned business. 2. My college career was seriously derailed by an inability to qualify for any federal Pell orPerkins formula aid. This was due to the income level enjoyed by my mother due to her alimony and child support payments. After being told I would have to wait 3 years and make sure she did not claim me as a dependant on her taxes <> I was then told off the record that if I were a minority I would not be paying for my education at all, because college students who were Dean's List and happen to be a minority would have tons of non federal and state aid packages custom tailored to keep them in college. As it was I took 3 years off, went into massive debt, and walked out with 2 degrees. It took me 5.75 academic years, but 10 calender years to complete my college career not because I lacked academic merit but because I lacked financial ability & I was not a minority. 3. As to academic preparedness. I would say in any of the classes I took as a freshman and sophomore, almost all students were equally prepared. However, the ones who I was aware of poor performance tended to be from either rural or poor environments. If you were white and poor you tended to do as bad as a person who was poor and black. Also rural students tended to do poorly because their "worldliness" was very deficient in comparison to metro and suburban students. In my Junior, Senior, and seminar courses however, I noticed something else. The people who made it to this level had already survived the weed-out process. They belonged where they were. However the black students that I had classes with who were from America were always among the worst performers in classes. They earned hard "C" averages. Additionally whites from Rural south origins, often did not survive these classes and often dropped out with in completes. The object I learned was that the Black American students took the attitude of succeed at all costs. The rural students tended to collect their things and go home. I think that the real problem with AA is that it does not recognize economic impediment as being the true source of disparate success at the college level.
I think AA is inherently flawed, creates more problems than solutions, and simply needs to be removed as legal governmental policy. The government should simply enforce laws when someone is denied an honest chance simply because of a minority status of any type.
Tuesday, February 18, 2003
The Largest Anti-War Movement Ever
My comment is aimed at the so called 20 million. So called because I don't think the numbers approach 20 million, The protest in London, Paris and Berlin along with San Fransisco and New York IE the biggest.. don't even add up to 5 million people. Saddam said publicly that he thanked all of you. Saddam, in case you forgot is the man who has had over 1,000,000 of his countrymen purged and liquidated for political reasons over the last 30 years. For those who have a problem with purge as a euphemism, he murdered them. Saddam, in case you forgot is the man who has had over a million deaths caused in warfare against Iran. Lord knows how many Iranians died. Saddam is the person responsible for more death and suffering than the United States has cause over the same time period. Yet we, for some unknown reason are called into question? I agree that war sucks. It should be avoided, but not at all costs. Sometimes you have to do hard things because they are better to have been done than avoided. Would the 2,000,000 say thank you to the 20,000,000 protesters? I don't think they would.
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