Category: History

No one knows what history will make of the present — least of all journalists, who can at best write history’s sloppy first draft. But if I were to place an incautious bet on which political event will prove the most significant of February 2010, I wouldn’t choose the kabuki health care summit that generated all the ink and 24/7 cable chatter in Washington. I’d put my money instead on the murder-suicide of Andrew Joseph Stack III, the tax protester who flew a plane into an office building housing Internal Revenue Service employees in Austin, Tex., on Feb. 18. It was a flare with the dark afterlife of an omen.

What made that kamikaze mission eventful was less the deranged act itself than the curious reaction of politicians on the right who gave it a pass — or, worse, flirted with condoning it. Stack was a lone madman, and it would be both glib and inaccurate to call him a card-carrying Tea Partier or a “Tea Party terrorist.” But he did leave behind a manifesto whose frothing anti-government, anti-tax rage overlaps with some of those marching under the Tea Party banner.

1. President Obama Cut Your Taxes

As in April, the Tea Baggers continued to display their fundamental misunderstanding of U.S. history and the American Revolution. Apparently, the right-wing zealots are outraged by no taxation with representation.

As promised, Barack Obama in the stimulus package delivered on his pledge of tax relief for 95% of American households. Obama’s American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (ARRA) didn’t only jump start gross domestic product and refill empty state coffers in the second quarter of 2009. As Nate Silver thoroughly documented, “Obama has cut taxes for 98.6% of working households.”

Nevertheless, raging Tea Baggers spouting Republican Tax Day lies took to the streets not to thank the President, but to blame him for the tax cuts they received.

Editors Note: And now for some real nostalgia. The following article appeared in the Sept-Oct 1953 issue of San Diego Magazine. Thanks go to Larry OB for retyping it and sending it to the OB Rag. Larry kept in the original typos.

by Lois Schustra

Hundreds of cars go roaring down West Point Loma Boulevard everyday, blissfully unaware that behind a certain high hedge, there nestles a little spot of historical interest, a vestige of the “Ocean Beach” of yesterday. To the tenants that live there, it is a bit of Shangra La.

by Mary E Mann

Let’s not mince words, I am willing to admit that I love the shit out of books. Much more than is probably healthy or even altogether sane. I love how they smell, how they look on my bedside table or on used bookstore shelves. I love the quiet contemplation they induce in people, the gentle low murmur of contentment that fills bookstores and libraries thick as a cat’s purr beneath its ribs. I love watching a friend or lover read, their eyes intent, their bodies in the same room as mine but their neurons a world away.

Most of all, I love reading, curled in my bed before sleep, on the couch with a cup of tea on a rainy day, stretched flat and gently roasting on the beach. I love unfurling my mind into a new, uncharted landscape, inhabited by Zorba’s and Mrs. Dalloway’s, and seeing how it fares. I am an entirely impartial defender of books.

by Dave Zirin / Huffington Post / January 28, 2010

Howard Zinn, my hero, teacher, and friend died of a heart attack on Wednesday at the age of 87. With his death, we lose a man who did nothing less than rewrite the narrative of the United States. We lose a historian who also made history.

Anyone who believes that the United States is immune to radical politics never attended a lecture by Howard Zinn. The rooms would be packed to the rafters, as entire families, black, white and brown, would arrive to hear their own history made humorous as well as heroic. “What matters is not who’s sitting in the White House. What matters is who’s sitting in!” he would say with a mischievous grin. After this casual suggestion of civil disobedience, the crowd would burst into laughter and applause.

Yesterday, January 21, 2010, the US Supreme Court dealt potentially a lethal blow to what’s left of American democracy. The slim majority of right-wing radical activists on the highest court in the land decided that corporations are people and that there should be no limitations on the amount of money they can spend on elections and candidates.

This means that corporations can now spend unlimited monies on any candidate and on any election they want. The 5 to 4 decision overturned decades of corporate restrictions and overturned a century’s-old limit on the role of corporate money in federal elections, on the books since Teddy Roosevelt was president.

* OB Pier Closed Due to High Surf and Damage

* Circle of Life Comes to the OB Rag

* Local Coastal Commission Manager Insists on Public Hearing Before Removal of Fire Pits by City

* Contest to Find Missing 9th OB Fire Pit

* OB Cottage Becomes Home Design Classroom

* Don’t Crap On Us

* Volunteers Needed for Dog Beach Dune Habitat Restoration Project – January 23rd

* OB Poet Hosts Poetry Reading at Jungle Java

My mother (Midge) had always told us that her grandfather, Cornelius Donahue, had come to this country from Ireland, but exactly where in Ireland was murky. Maybe County Cork, maybe not.

At a certain point, my brother (Lou) and I became interested in obtaining dual US/Irish citizenship for ourselves and for our mother. But in order to do this, first of all we had to document where in Ireland Cornelius came from.

So began my quest, “In Search of Cornelius.”

By Mike Lee / Union-Tribune / Originally published January 6, 2010

Nearly five years after regional water-pollution cops announced a landmark order to clean toxic muck in San Diego Bay, they’re back with a plan that would remove just 16 percent of the sediment targeted initially.

The latest strategy was crafted during months of confidential talks with groups on the hook for the work. It’s expected to cost about half of the $96 million price tag from the original cleanup order, which the San Diego Regional Water Quality Control Board spent years developing so it could withstand courtroom challenges.

Hey, guys, I guess you’ll have to “Bear Down” without me. I was looking forward to ambling – or whatever you call the way we 70 plus year old dudes walk now – out to mid court with you at the halftime of the U of A/Washington game while thousands of Wildcat fans look at us, going “You guys played basketball?”

Well, I intended to be there but I lost my wife a few months ago and I find that my energy ebbs and flows. …But, wow, has it really been fifty years since we were tearing it up back in old Bear Down Gym….

It’s been nearly half a century since the Peninsula Community Plan was officially launched by Peninsulans, Inc., its creator, in December of 1965. For the first time the organization of Point Loman business and property elites opened their vision of Point Loma and its sub-communities to the public.

The first urban plan for Ocean Beach was to grow out of this endeavor, as OB then was simply viewed as one of those sub-communities of the greater peninsula.

Peninsulans, Inc., or just “Pen Inc” – itself the child of the Peninsula Chamber of Commerce – had been officially endorsed by the San Diego City Council as “the citizen’s committee” for area planning on Point Loma. In 1968, three years after its launch, the Peninsula Community Plan was adopted by the City Council as the official plan for the Point Loma communities.

By Dwight Garner / The New York Times / December 29, 2009

Joel and Ethan Coen’s 1998 movie, “The Big Lebowski,” which stars Jeff Bridges as a beatific, pot-smoking, bowling-obsessed slacker known as the Dude, snuck up on the English-speaking world during the ’00s: it became, stealthily, the decade’s most venerated cult film. It’s got that elusive and addictive quality that a great midnight movie has to have: it blissfully widens and expands in your mind upon repeat viewings.

“The Big Lebowski” has spawned its own shaggy, fervid world: drinking games, Halloween costumes, bumper stickers (“This aggression will not stand, man”) and a drunken annual festival that took root in Louisville, Ky., and has spread to other cities.