The gist of the message from the Democrat and/or Republican was: vote for John Kerry and America will be attacked. And when it’s attacked, it’ll be defended with “spitballs.”

So Chris asked him if he really meant that.

“It’s a metaphor,” Miller replied. “Do you know what a metaphor is?”

Umm, Senator? That’s why he asked. Did you really mean that metaphor? Wasn’t that metaphor over-the-top? Isn’t it predicated on a half-idea: that John Kerry tried to dismantle weapons programs (the ones Defense Secretary Dick Cheney had asked the Senate to dismantle)?

Of course, Senator Miller can’t answer those questions. He's a one-man political revolving door trying to lead the criticism of a flip-flopper. So all of a sudden he’s slapping a white glove, throwing down the gauntlet, and checking the newspaper for the exact hour of sunrise. Senator— you have the first choice of spitballs."

More odd shit from Salon, this time the letters page. A few days ago they printed an article regarding the fears that a repeat of the Democratic National Convention 1968 ("Blood on the streets, it's up to my ankles") would be something the Bushies could cash in on all the way to November. An uber-sarcastic response was sent in:

"I can't wait for the Republican National Convention.

Look for me on TV! I'll be in all black. Like the omen! (Unless we're deciding to blend in, in which case I'll be in business casual.) I'm riding up with my friend Ron. We could have signed up to go in the van with the group, but to be honest -- Steve? He's a nice enough guy, but a total radio Nazi. With him driving? It's going to be like Rage, Rage, Rage all the way up. Maybe some Dead Prez, some Sycophants -- unsigned, you've never heard of them -- mixed in. All good bands, but all the way up? No thanks. I'd rather just relax in Ron's Datsun, get my mind centered, listen to Joan Baez. I like folk, I honestly do. That's my father's influence. He was an activist in the '60s. The beads, the futon -- all of it. I really look up to my father. He's very involved. He reads about five newspapers a day. From all over -- England, India. You should see his office. Books about corruption you've never even heard the titles of. I don't know, though. I think, in some ways, he's lost touch with what's really going on on, like, a street level. Like, for instance, he came into the garage yesterday when Ron and me were loading our knapsacks with supplies (1 x police whistle; 1 x pepper spray; 3 x fog bomb; 1 packet cashews) and asked just what the hell did we think we were doing? Did we want to get this man reelected? Did we want a silly, impotent gesture like a garbage can through a McDonald's window to undermine (he went on and on); and I have to say -- it saddens me to say -- a few of the scales fell from my eyes. I had to be like, Dad, you don't understand. You don't get it. This is serious shit. Dangerous times, dad. We have to show the world we're fed up. This is bigger than who's president.

Our girlfriends decorated our bandannas.

Have you seen our bandannas? Mine's got an anarchy "A" in a skull. It's pretty badass. I'm not saying I'll still want anarchy when I'm 40, or even that I want it now, I'm just saying, it's a look. I mean, the media uses image and gloss and flash over substance. You have to fight symbols with symbols. For example, you know how in the '60s the hawks were the bad guys and the doves were the good guys? Well, our group is called Hawks for America. Good, right? The cool thing about that is, first off, you need the talons and the beak of a hawk now to fight all these lies and hypocrisy. (A dove? At this moment in history? Forget it. A dove would get its back broken.) Second, we co-opted their image. You see? How that works?

Pow!

We have a press kit.

Have you read our press kit? It tells the media exactly who is controlling who and exactly how the wool has been pulled over their collective big glass media eye. Do you see? How we're ready? Seriously, look for us on TV. We won't be the ones being laughed at by those smug, self-satisfied pundits -- that's for sure. For carrying silly giant papier-mâché Cheney heads, or crappy signs. No way. We're angry and we're serious and we're ready to take center stage. Mark my words, come Aug. 30, we're going to show the world something or other, in a major way.

-- Mike Keeper "

If there is a hidden meaning to the above, it's that only the stupid or blatantly counter-productive will actually try to start shit in New York in 11 days time. The people that are dedicated to the removal of George W Bush realize that it is imperative that the right-wing media rottweilers get as little to chew on as possible between now and November. This is exactly what Nixon elected and re-elected, the appearance that the opposition was "out of the mainstream" not based on the opposition itself (Humphrey and McGovern), but of the people that supported the opposition (long-haired freaky people who got involved in riots and smoked grass and such). Keep your hair long, bring your ideas in buckets to Manhattan, but leave your molotovs at home (leaving your grass at home is probably a good idea too).

From Salon.com's Dan Kois:

WASHINGTON--As G.I. Joe, the leader of America's daring, highly trained special missions force, celebrates his 40th anniversary this summer, a group of veterans has aired television advertisements attacking his military record. The ads, purchased by G.I. Joe Veterans for Truth, accuse Joe of lying about his war record and letting villains escape throughout the 1985-86 war against Cobra, Destro and the forces of evil.

Been gorging on convention coverage lately. Speeches have been good--yesterday was definitely the best day for speeches (so far anyway), between Ted Kennedy's opener and Barack Obama's keynote in the middle. Obama's in particular was brilliant. For those who missed it, it's down here (transcribed by Salon.com):

"On behalf of the great state of Illinois, crossroads of a nation, land of Lincoln, let me express my deep gratitude for the privilege of addressing this convention. Tonight is a particular honor for me because, let's face it, my presence on this stage is pretty unlikely. My father was a foreign student, born and raised in a small village in Kenya. He grew up herding goats, went to school in a tin-roof shack. His father, my grandfather, was a cook, a domestic servant.

But my grandfather had larger dreams for his son. Through hard work and perseverance my father got a scholarship to study in a magical place; America which stood as a beacon of freedom and opportunity to so many who had come before. While studying here, my father met my mother. She was born in a town on the other side of the world, in Kansas. Her father worked on oil rigs and farms through most of the Depression. The day after Pearl Harbor he signed up for duty, joined Patton's army and marched across Europe. Back home, my grandmother raised their baby and went to work on a bomber assembly line. After the war, they studied on the GI Bill, bought a house through FHA, and moved west in search of opportunity.

And they, too, had big dreams for their daughter, a common dream, born of two continents. My parents shared not only an improbable love; they shared an abiding faith in the possibilities of this nation. They would give me an African name, Barack, or "blessed," believing that in a tolerant America your name is no barrier to success. They imagined me going to the best schools in the land, even though they weren't rich, because in a generous America you don't have to be rich to achieve your potential. They are both passed away now. Yet, I know that, on this night, they look down on me with pride.

I stand here today, grateful for the diversity of my heritage, aware that my parents' dreams live on in my precious daughters. I stand here knowing that my story is part of the larger American story, that I owe a debt to all of those who came before me, and that, in no other country on earth, is my story even possible. Tonight, we gather to affirm the greatness of our nation, not because of the height of our skyscrapers, or the power of our military, or the size of our economy. Our pride is based on a very simple premise, summed up in a declaration made over two hundred years ago, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. That they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights. That among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

That is the true genius of America, a faith in the simple dreams of its people, the insistence on small miracles. That we can tuck in our children at night and know they are fed and clothed and safe from harm. That we can say what we think, write what we think, without hearing a sudden knock on the door. That we can have an idea and start our own business without paying a bribe or hiring somebody's son. That we can participate in the political process without fear of retribution, and that our votes will be counted -- or at least, most of the time.

This year, in this election, we are called to reaffirm our values and commitments, to hold them against a hard reality and see how we are measuring up, to the legacy of our forbearers, and the promise of future generations. And fellow Americans -- Democrats, Republicans, Independents -- I say to you tonight: we have more work to do. More to do for the workers I met in Galesburg, Illinois, who are losing their union jobs at the Maytag plant that's moving to Mexico, and now are having to compete with their own children for jobs that pay seven bucks an hour. More to do for the father I met who was losing his job and choking back tears, wondering how he would pay $4,500 a month for the drugs his son needs without the health benefits he counted on. More to do for the young woman in East St. Louis, and thousands more like her, who has the grades, has the drive, has the will, but doesn't have the money to go to college.

Don't get me wrong. The people I meet in small towns and big cities, in diners and office parks, they don't expect government to solve all their problems. They know they have to work hard to get ahead and they want to. Go into the collar counties around Chicago, and people will tell you they don't want their tax money wasted by a welfare agency or the Pentagon. Go into any inner city neighborhood, and folks will tell you that government alone can't teach kids to learn. They know that parents have to parent, that children can't achieve unless we raise their expectations and turn off the television sets and eradicate the slander that says a black youth with a book is acting white. No, people don't expect government to solve all their problems. But they sense, deep in their bones, that with just a change in priorities, we can make sure that every child in America has a decent shot at life, and that the doors of opportunity remain open to all. They know we can do better. And they want that choice.

In this election, we offer that choice. Our party has chosen a man to lead us who embodies the best this country has to offer. That man is John Kerry. John Kerry understands the ideals of community, faith, and sacrifice, because they've defined his life. From his heroic service in Vietnam to his years as prosecutor and lieutenant governor, through two decades in the United States Senate, he has devoted himself to this country. Again and again, we've seen him make tough choices when easier ones were available. His values and his record affirm what is best in us.

John Kerry believes in an America where hard work is rewarded. So instead of offering tax breaks to companies shipping jobs overseas, he'll offer them to companies creating jobs here at home. John Kerry believes in an America where all Americans can afford the same health coverage our politicians in Washington have for themselves. John Kerry believes in energy independence, so we aren't held hostage to the profits of oil companies or the sabotage of foreign oil fields. John Kerry believes in the constitutional freedoms that have made our country the envy of the world, and he will never sacrifice our basic liberties nor use faith as a wedge to divide us. And John Kerry believes that in a dangerous world, war must be an option, but it should never be the first option.

A while back, I met a young man named Shamus at the VFW Hall in East Moline, Illinois. He was a good-looking kid, six-two or six-three, clear eyed, with an easy smile. He told me he'd joined the Marines and was heading to Iraq the following week. As I listened to him explain why he'd enlisted, his absolute faith in our country and its leaders, his devotion to duty and service, I thought this young man was all any of us might hope for in a child. But then I asked myself: Are we serving Shamus as well as he was serving us? I thought of more than 900 service men and women, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, friends and neighbors, who will not be returning to their hometowns. I thought of families I had met who were struggling to get by without a loved one's full income, or whose loved ones had returned with a limb missing or with nerves shattered, but who still lacked long-term health benefits because they were reservists. When we send our young men and women into harm's way, we have a solemn obligation not to fudge the numbers or shade the truth about why they're going, to care for their families while they're gone, to tend to the soldiers upon their return, and to never ever go to war without enough troops to win the war, secure the peace, and earn the respect of the world.

Now let me be clear. We have real enemies in the world. These enemies must be found. They must be pursued and they must be defeated. John Kerry knows this. And just as Lieutenant Kerry did not hesitate to risk his life to protect the men who served with him in Vietnam, President Kerry will not hesitate one moment to use our military might to keep America safe and secure. John Kerry believes in America. And he knows it's not enough for just some of us to prosper. For alongside our famous individualism, there's another ingredient in the American saga.

A belief that we are connected as one people. If there's a child on the south side of Chicago who can't read, that matters to me, even if it's not my child. If there's a senior citizen somewhere who can't pay for her prescription and has to choose between medicine and the rent, that makes my life poorer, even if it's not my grandmother. If there's an Arab American family being rounded up without benefit of an attorney or due process, that threatens my civil liberties. It's that fundamental belief -- I am my brother's keeper, I am my sisters' keeper -- that makes this country work. It's what allows us to pursue our individual dreams, yet still come together as a single American family. "E pluribus unum." Out of many, one.

Yet even as we speak, there are those who are preparing to divide us, the spin masters and negative ad peddlers who embrace the politics of anything goes. Well, I say to them tonight, there's not a liberal America and a conservative America -- there's the United States of America. There's not a black America and white America and Latino America and Asian America; there's the United States of America. The pundits like to slice-and-dice our country into Red States and Blue States; Red States for Republicans, Blue States for Democrats. But I've got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the Blue States, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and have gay friends in the Red States. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq and patriots who supported it. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.

In the end, that's what this election is about. Do we participate in a politics of cynicism or a politics of hope? John Kerry calls on us to hope. John Edwards calls on us to hope. I'm not talking about blind optimism here -- the almost willful ignorance that thinks unemployment will go away if we just don't talk about it, or the health care crisis will solve itself if we just ignore it. No, I'm talking about something more substantial. It's the hope of slaves sitting around a fire singing freedom songs; the hope of immigrants setting out for distant shores; the hope of a young naval lieutenant bravely patrolling the Mekong Delta; the hope of a millworker's son who dares to defy the odds; the hope of a skinny kid with a funny name who believes that America has a place for him, too. The audacity of hope!

In the end, that is God's greatest gift to us, the bedrock of this nation; the belief in things not seen; the belief that there are better days ahead. I believe we can give our middle class relief and provide working families with a road to opportunity. I believe we can provide jobs to the jobless, homes to the homeless, and reclaim young people in cities across America from violence and despair. I believe that as we stand on the crossroads of history, we can make the right choices, and meet the challenges that face us. America!

Tonight, if you feel the same energy I do, the same urgency I do, the same passion I do, the same hopefulness I do -- if we do what we must do, then I have no doubt that all across the country, from Florida to Oregon, from Washington to Maine, the people will rise up in November, and John Kerry will be sworn in as president, and John Edwards will be sworn in as vice president, and this country will reclaim its promise, and out of this long political darkness a brighter day will come.

Thank you and God bless you."