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CounterPunch
February
25, 2003
Ask the Angels' Scorn
Joe Lieberman:
Yankee Tartuffe
by ROSS VACHON
In the Stalinist universe, the central drama was
always a ritualistic staging of a theatrical spectacle, in the
truth of which no one believed.
Senator Joseph Lieberman (D--Connecticut),
is American Democracy's equivalent of that spectacle. The swirl
of cathode tube confetti which greeted his entry into America's
Presidential Sweepstakes glittered intermittently throughout
the month-ago photo-op,coverage that resembled in its lightness--the
way the story of a wayward zoo hippo might have been reported.
There was a je ne sais quoi quiescence to the coverage, as well.
The imprimatur of Great White American Man upon an orthodox Hebrew
man appeared calibrated to escape much notice, the lighting which
surrounded Lieberman was pastel. Or was the second scotch &
milk I nursed at a Malibu tavern playing tricks on my mind? Bar
TVs played at both ends, yet no one looked, and the drink ice
refracted no conspiracies. That the Senator chose to formalize
his candidacy at his Stamford boyhood alma mater, was fitting.
It was there that young Joe Lieberman caught his first whiff
of Potomac fever. "Washington, Jefferson, Lieberman..."
He would study, and he would learn. And, when called upon, he
would answer.
Platitudinous, moralistic, cuddly-wuddly,
blotchy, and off-pink cheeked, Senator Joseph Lieberman is, for
all appearances, a shyly confident, not quite fine figure of
a man. Like all humble preachers, his reticence is guarded, wisdom
held in reserve. I saw a taped broadcast not long back of the
Senator addressing a church congregation, somewhere. At first
glance the worshippers seemed as hushed, penitent, and glad to
be there as any gathered in Reverend Robert Schuller's Crystal
Cathedral. But, a hint of beleagurement swayed off these uncertain
pilgrims, as if some game-show cr! owd had traipsed in mistakenly
to a considerably more somber event. Their body language was
more uneasy than expectant. Something was amiss. As though these
folks had been wheedled and cajoled into greeting Joe Lieberman
as man of deep faith, a Rabbi, even, who knows.
Cameras cut to the Senator at the pulpit,
like he owned it. His bland demeanor concealed a feral readiness,
and the orthodox vestment--his coffee-grey tailored suit, proclaimed
him as the anti-Schuller, an unresplendent prophet. An unspoken,
but implicit message: "Why, in the Hebrew faith, dear people,
flash is considered inappropriate, drab is the thing. We Jews
are a solemn tribe, my friends, never drawn to the light. Que
sera, sera, whatever we are, we are."
The picture of earnestness, he began
a hand-wringing exercise, chubby, interlocking fingers kneading
doughy palms, relentlessly, montonously, and voila--the maestro
was ready. Then, dripping with piety, he lowered his head, and
in low, irregular tones, the Senator's dispensation of saintly
wisdom, and unvarnished truth commenced. His sing-songy, constipated
whine unsettled the congregation, but Lieberman's voice has circus
calliope rhythms. And, as the sermon built, the calliope softened
the dirge. It was all the encouragement he needed. A schmaltzy
exhibition designed to win converts one at a time, lest panic
set in. TV anchors were whispering mid-sermon that Joe was rolling,
and the Senator had that spry look only carnys get with a tent
full of rubes. I just knew he'd worked this circuit before.
Coyly, he measured their gaze, one dirty-angel
forelock astrew. Cooing sounds emerged sotto voce, metronomic
trills designed to tranquilize us all before prayer. Then, the
Senator broke the meditative quiet with a limpid nod, a solicitous,
Shandling-esque smile. Had he settled the crowd? Who could really
tell? I'd wait for Ben Wattenberg, wise old Ben--to get a good
read. My black cat Noriko, had her tail up in the air, and it
formed a question mark. Sure, the old Buddhist trick, but I'd
wait for Ben, nonetheless.
And, mirabile dictu--there he was, on
PBS no less!: "Joe Lieberman is quality goods." It
was heartwarming. Ben's owlish smile said: "And, if weren't
for the goyim, who'd buy retail?", and I knew I'd done the
right thing waiting for Uncle Ben. "Quality goods."
Word up, Ben said it. And, although it was reassuring that Joe
and his wife Hadassah got Uncle Ben's White Housekeeping Seal
of Approval, my checkbook remained unopened. What had this "quality
goods" done for the 2000 Democratic ticket, I wondered,
t! hat warrranted a step-up into the bigtime? Ben was mute.
But, on CNN, Howie Kurtz picked up the
slack, remarking cheerily that: "Senator Lieberman was a
real boost to the ticket." Was it true? Or a suburban myth?
Alas, I found it was the latter...
In truth, Gore's fortunes plummeted once
Lieberman signed on. For all the "Shecky Lieberman"
talk, his kibbutzing with Conan O'Brian & Co., VP candidate
Lieberman's impact on the voters was nil. Gore/Lieberman fumbled
the entire South, including Crazy Al's home turf, Slick Willie's
Arkansas, and Democratic stalwart West Virginia. And, the clincher--the
debate which introduced them nationwide, it was Lieberman's klutzy,
lamentable performance which allowed Dick Cheney to win the day.
A button-down automaton was able to comer across as a kinder
& gentler version of cranky "Mr. Wilson", from
"Dennis The Menace". Mr. Kurtz was a most unreliable
guide.
So, as Ed Muskie's tears well in the
grave, the questions must be asked: Who's selling Senator Joseph
Lieberman ? Who's buying? Who's crying? Who is this King to be?
A Connecticut Yankee Of Sorts In The
Bush King's Court, Joe Lieberman is the embodiment of classic
literature's most infamous fraud, French playwright Moliere's
TARTUFFE. A pious, mealy-mouthed man of the cloth, whose mock-faith,
and rank hypocrisy conceals an enormity of sin, Joe Lieberman
is a twenty-four carat charlatan. Hark the angels scorn.
The sound of one mass media hand clapping
in the forest, heralding this new Tartuffe as Presidential timber,
echoes every time he pops his head out of his shell. The cool
hum of his Presidential persona is calculated to muffle glee
or distaste . He is the air-conditioner in the room, silently
filling the room with pleasantries and zephyrs. Joe's a Pisces
(February 24, 1942), so it should be no surprise his plan of
conquest is by submarine. Kerry, Edwards, Dean, Kucinich are
land animals. Joe's a slip-streamer, he's sub-aquatic. A few
days after Stamford, he cruised into Israel. Fast curr! ents.
Once on dry land, Aqua Joe struck quickly, in a canny six-point
maneuver:
1) Confab with Sharon
2) A "no mas" hint on settlements
3) A stern look, then a happy face at
the photo-op
4) Back in the Homeland
5) Statements: #1--"Attack Iraq!",
#2--"Wait to attack Iraq."
6) Wait and see attitude
Afterwards, Aqua Joe submerged, again.
Looking through the periscope, he spyed Kerry running this way,
Edwards running that way. Slow and steady, 5 knots for now. Just
like his seven years in New Haven. When he ran for Yale student-president,
Joe let campaign manager Bill Clinton run the ship. Joe's moves
were below deck. Always below radar.
His political rise was exquisitely timed.
William F. Buckley had aligned himself ever closer with Jewish
neo-cons in the eighties, he'd seen the writing on the greenbacks,
and he warmed to the idea of helping Connecticut Attorney General
transform into U.S. Senator Joe Lieberman. Lieberman, the Democrat
would run as a right-winger challenging Weicker on his positions
on Cuba (too liberal!), and Israel (too independent!). Lieberman
outspent Weicker by millions, and his generous supporters formed
a four-point grid of fascism, greed, hatred, and extremism that
is his bulwark today:
1. Zealous wacko Cuban-Americans. Beaucoup
bucks to Joe.
2. Zealous wacko Zionist-Americans. Joe
is their boy.
3. Greedy Pharmaceutical and Insurance
Companies. Go Joe!
4.Weapons of Mass Destruction Manufacturers.
Such a patriot!
That is Joe "The Enron Democrat"
Lieberman's base. He is the Democratic Leader of the rich's successful
class war against the poor and needy. He is the corporate oligarchy's
Main Man Democrat. He convinced Clinton to pass through Welfare
reform. Lieberman's pride is stoked by it. In defending it, he
always takes care to toss a few sops out about how he personally
took care to make it go down gently, "helping the helpless",
things like that.
His work on behalf of shielding Enron's
mega-ponzi scheme from shareholder and legal scrutiny robbed
many more thousands of Americans of their life savings. "The
Patriot Act" was conceived by Joe Lieberman. He wishes to
protect the richest Americans from any future tremblings of the
poor and dispossessed. Lieberman has worked assidulously throughout
his career to create an America in which 5% live like Saudi Royalty,
15% scrape by, and the other 80% are forced to beg or steal.
It is why Lieberman has always championed
the death penalty, "three-strikes", and the "war
on drugs." Imprisoning or eliminating poor people of color,
and white people of disadvantage is Joe Lieberman's domestic
agenda. Privatizing Social Security is his idea of assisting
the elderly. Doubtless, Joe will be seen walking old ladies across
the street. After they cross, they're on their own.
Joe Lieberman, in short, is the Anti-Democracy
Democrat. He is the friendly fascist, the polite totalitarian,
the man whose loyalty to a foreign country is unquestionably
deep, and destructive. Using America to annihilate the neighbors
Israel won't make peace with, is the sina qua non of his foreign
policy. His assurances of patriotism are kept to a minimum. Why
lie, when the media will do it for you?
In sum, Senator Joseph Lieberman is a
traitor to America, its Principles, its Liberties, and its Values.
He is an insincere, hypocritical, morally repugnant, venal politician,
who worships the almighty dollar, and craves the highest office
in the land. He aims to win, and his chances are better than
you think.
The next time he gets on his knees to
pray, just remember this:
Joe Lieberman pretends to be a very good
man. He's anything but.
Ross Vachon
is an actor-producer based in Los Angeles. Pleased about the
new call for cinematic French villians, his email is: ROSVAC@msn.com
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