Author Archives: Peter Sanford Kahrmann

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About Peter Sanford Kahrmann

Writer, disability rights advocate, civil rights advocate.

HILLARY CLINTON DID NOT MISSPEAK

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When Hillary Clinton said, “I remember landing under sniper fire (in Bosnia). There was supposed to be some kind of a greeting ceremony at the airport, but instead we just ran with our heads down to get into the vehicles to get to our base,” she did not misspeak. She lied. She also insulted anyone who has lived through the blistering terror of being shot at.

News clips of the day Mrs. Clinton landed in Bosnia show her strolling calmly across the tarmac with her daughter Chelsea. Moments later, she is standing on the tarmac with her daughter listening to a lovely eight-year-old Bosnian girl read a poem.

Now take what you have just read and align it with Clinton spokesperson Howard Wolfson’s assertion today that Mrs. Clinton knew she was landing in “a potential combat zone and (it)was hazardous.” Really? Should we conclude that Mrs. Clinton knowingly put her daughter and the little Bosnian girl in danger of being killed? I will give Mr. Wolfson the credit he deserves. He represents Mrs. Clinton with honesty. He lies too.

One last thing. I have been shot at and I have been shot. Going through either experience is not the kind of thing you forget. It is not the kind of thing you misspeak about. Moreover, it is not the kind of thing you lie about.

PRESIDENT BUSH IS…WELL, CRAZY

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In her column today New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd, one of my favorite columnists, points out that some are “flummoxed about why the president is in such a fine mood” despite the carnage of war, a plummeting economy, and a more-hated-than-ever United States around the world.

The answer as to why Bush is in such a jovial mood is, I believe, wonderfully explained by comedian Lewis Black, one of my favorite comedians.

Mr. Black talks about Bush visiting wounded American veterans in Brooke Army Medical Center in Texas. Bush tells these vets, most of whom were amputees during the visit Mr. Black is referring to, that he too has been injured, sustaining a scratch in a fight with a Cedar Tree that, the president points out, is a fight he won. Mr. Black points out that if you are the president you should know where you are in the space-time continuum.

In another bit, Mr. Black talks about being home alone and watching Bush talk on television. Mr. Black says that in a way it was just the two of them, and, he realized, one of them was crazy, and, Mr. Black says, he was not the crazy one. This brings me back to Ms. Dowd’s noticing that many are baffled about why the president is in such a good mood given the mess our country is in.

Here, I think, is the answer. He is crazy, mentally ill, messianic, nuts, out of his mind, bonkers, wacko, both oars not in the water, not firing all eight, not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

But worst of all – he is dangerous.

A RESPONSE TO A DEFENSE OF ATTORNEY JEFFREY SCHWARTZ

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I do not respond to comments people leave on the blog as a rule. However, I want to make an exception because in this case I think it is important.

On January 17 I published a piece sharply criticizing New York attorney Jeffrey Schwartz for villainizing a seven-year-old murder victim. Let me give you some background and then we can get to the blog comment critical of the piece.

Mr. Schwartz is the defense attorney for Cesar Rodriquez, 29, who is on trial in Brooklyn’s Supreme Court for the murder of seven-year-old Nixzmary Brown. Nixzmary was found emaciated, beaten and dead on the floor or her Brooklyn home in January 2006. She weighed 36 pounds, barely half the weight of a healthy child her age.

In his defense of Mr. Rodriquez, Mr. Schwartz said, “”As for what Nixzmary did to provoke Mr. Rodriguez’s wrath on the last night of her life, it’s easy to say, ‘Aw, he killed the kid and beat her because of yogurt.’ Many of us don’t have yogurt problems” — here he gestured to his own well-fed midsection — “but when you’re poor and you can’t afford unlimited amounts of food and you have six children, you have to make sure that everyone gets what they’re entitled to get, so that you can ensure that everyone stays healthy.””

Brooklyn police said, “Cesar Rodriguez beat the little girl to death, then tossed her on the floor of what was known in the family’s apartment as the “dirty room,” a rodent-infested room where she had been tied up and left with only a litter box as a toilet.”

Mr. Schwartz said Nixzmary refused to be disciplined, pointing out that she would slip out of the ropes that tied her to the chair in the “dirty room”. He said, “She was a little Houdini.”

Okay. Someone recently sent this anonymous comment in response to the January 17 piece. I present it to you exactly how is was received.

“if you are honest enough to concede that this scumbag deserves a defense, how can you, in the same breath, fault the lawyer for doing his job? his job is to get the guy off the hook. period. unless mr schwartz violates the law, i dont care if he convinces the jury to acquit because aliens from ufo’s did it or because the kid was a little bastard who deserved her fate. that’s schwartz’s job. you have a problem with that- then for crying out loud, understand that your problem is with the system and the jury, not mr. schwartz. i fail to understand why that distinction is lost on so many people.”

Dear Anonymous,

I agree with you that part of the problem, without question, is the legal system. But here’s the thing, you seem to give Mr. Schwartz a moral pass by saying he was just doing his job. The implication of your reasoning here is unsettling, as it appears that it is okay with you if a child-murder victim, or any murder victim for that matter, is bludgeoned and defiled in a court room in the name of justice. And here is where we differ. This kind of seedy behavior has no relationship with justice.

The notion of just doing his job does not and should not provide cover for anyone to victimize, brutalize or abuse another human being. The just doing our job mindset is the very mindset used by Nazis and others of similar ilk. Each of us is responsible for how we do our job, what lines we are and are not willing to cross.

I know some good lawyers that on their worst day would not enter into the arena of victim degradation. Not so Mr. Schwartz. He will savage and demean a seven-year-old girl who died a terrible death so he can win his case. But win what? The resulting verdict? Because if the verdict is not guilty, what has he really won? If the verdict is not guilty there is something that, in addition to Nixzmary, that would suffer a devastating loss: justice.

And isn’t justice supposed to be what it is all about in the first place?

Note: The jury is currently deliberating and has yet to issue a verdict.

IOWA’S STEVE KING’S KKK MINDSET

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Iowa Congressman Steve King has reassured all Americans that the poisonous chords of racism, bigotry, fear mongering and hatred are alive and well.

In a despicable and disgusting display of anti-American vitriol, King appeared on an Iowa radio station and told the audience that terrorists would be dancing in the streets if Senator Barack Obama were elected president. In fact, the despicable anti-American spirit, Steve King said, “”And I will tell you that, if he is elected president, then the, the radical Islamists, the, the al–Qaeda, and the radical Islamists and their supporters, will be dancing in the streets in greater numbers than they did on September 11….”

Congressman King went on to say, “”I’ll just say this that when you think about the optics of a Barack Obama potentially getting elected President of the United States — and I mean, what does this look like to the rest of the world?” Congressman King certainly seems to be talking about Obama’s skin color in a way that would make any racist beam with pride.

Steve King happens to be a Republican, but this writer would like to think that all Americans, regardless of party, would quickly condemn his disgusting and destructive display of anti-American sentiments.

In fact, the anti-American spirit sentiments of Steve King seem more closely wedded to the sentiments of a KKK handbook than they do the American spirit.

DUMPLINGS ARE NOT VEGETABLES?

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Dumplings are not vegetables? Who knew? Why are things like this kept secret from me? I am 54 years old and you would think someone would have clued me in by now. But no, not a chance. Until a week ago, I thought dumplings were the vegetable version of scallops. Now I find out that a dumpling, according to one dictionary, is nothing more than “a small savory ball of dough (usually made with suet) which may be boiled in water or a stew.”

Suet!

Suet comes in little pasty blocks and goes in small wire cages that get nailed onto tree trunks for birds. According to the same dictionary, suet is “the hard white fat on the kidneys and loins of cattle, sheep and other animals…” Fat from animal loins; that’s just great. Fat from animal loins pumped into a ball of dough and no one thought to tell me those tasty little dudes are not vegetables? What am I supposed to do with the seven cans of chicken with dumpling soup sitting in my cabinet? I bought them to help me in a recent fight with the flu. I thought I was doing myself some real medicinal justice by loading up on chicken and vegetables when what I was really doing was hardening up a few arteries and clogging up some veins for good measure.

I have had, as you might have guessed by now, a somewhat mixed and at times antagonistic relationship with food, with the culinary arts. My closest friend in the world, my brother of the heart, Michael, just has to look at food and it becomes a delicious meal. He is a culinary magician. It is as if the food sees him coming and just cannot wait to abide by his demands. Food sees me coming, cocks one eyebrow, develops a mischievous and I say evil gleam in its eyes, and salivates at the chance to inflict a bit of culinary vandalism.

A case in point. Back in the 1970s I lived in Seagate in Brooklyn. Michael, the culinary magician and foods’ favorite person on earth, lived right near me cooking up some of the best meals in all of Brooklyn. Not so yours truly. There was a young woman I was very taken with. Her name was Sharon. She lived with a nice family and was breathtakingly gorgeous – a knee-buckler. To my amazement she had accepted my invitation to dinner.

With Sharon coming to dinner, I wanted to cook her a classy dinner. Not my normal fare of macaroni and cheese and noodles with butter, but a real, honest to goodness, dinner. A dinner with class. I knew that you could not get much classier than shrimp. I went to the market and bought fifty shrimp. I came home and went about creating a feast. I dipped all the shrimp in egg and then in bread crumbs and cooked them up until they were a beautiful golden brown. They looked and smelled delicious.

Sharon arrived for dinner. She seemed impressed by the platter piled high with fifty golden brown shrimp. She sat down at the table. I had set the table earlier, so everything was in order. I shoved some shrimp onto her plate first and then shoved some onto mine. I then went to the refrigerator and got us each a bottle of what everyone in their right mind drinks with shrimp – soda.

I sat down, we smiled at each other, and began our meal. I was a bright light of pride over my culinary masterpiece. And then, reality turned the light out. Only one bite into her first shrimp, Sharon says, “These are really crisp.”

I say, “I know, that’s the way they’re supposed to be.” I had already eaten one and was well on my way to polishing off a second.

Sharon says, “Did you shell them?”

“Shell them?”

“Shell them. Did you shell them?”

I did not know they had shells. No one told me. Just like no one told me that dumplings are not vegetables. As for the seven cans of chicken and dumpling soup in my cabinet? I am going to eat them. I am going to eat them for two reasons. They are there, and I already know, thank you very much, that dumplings do not have shells.