Obi-J

It’s been up for debate and decried for decades, so a commentary on the United States lack of universal healthcare doesn’t seem timely. However Michael Moore’s newest film Sicko strikes a chord with me and should all citizens of the U.S. It brings to life, through personal depiction, the reality of a capitalistic for-profit healthcare system that is responsible – one could easily argue irresponsible – for our well being.

Sicko shows how the system is inherently set up to care more about providing less care than more. Less care meaning that there are millions without insurance, and therefore receive no care from the hospitals set up to heal the sick. Less care meaning that those that do have insurance, have to jump through hoops to get care, and in many cases are denied treatment. At the same time it shows how universal healthcare does work in countries like Canada, UK, France, and Cuba despite what our own politicians and the healthcare interests tell us through the millions of dollars spent on fear mongering campaigns. For those that have insurance – the wealthy, the corporate employed, the politicians – the matter of healthcare is easily taken for granted. Certainly those who run the system now stand to lose the opportunities to earn millions in profits with a universal system. But should we really have a system where earning an extra dollar is deemed more important than saving a life?

Since I have diabetes, the lack of a universal system means that I must have a job with insurance. I need the prescription coverage to help pay for the thousands of dollars I spent on medications I need to live. To help pay for the doctor visits to make sure I’m heathy and to write the prescriptions I need. In the recent past I’ve considered leaving my office job to do freelance web development work, but I’ve feared doing so as that would mean being without insurance. And given that no insurance company would cover me independently with my pre-existing condition, I don’t really have the option so I need to have a job with a company that provides it. Thus my freedom to choose the work I want to do is limited.

To me universal healthcare and the ending of the Iraq war are the two issues that must receive the most attention now and in the 2008 presidential election. Far too much money and time is being spent putting our citizens in harms way, and not enough time or money is being spent setting up a system to care for our family and friends. We can’t let the politicians distract us from these issues. We as a people must demand it.

Last night myself, Amy, Jack, and a group of friends were walking down 17th on our way to Dolores Park to watch the fireworks when…BAM!!!…an incredible explosion went off inside a pay telephone adjacent a convenience store just across the street, the work of some asshat and an M80 no doubt. The aftermath of smoke and confusion made it feel far more like a terrorist attack than a celebration. A number of people were right near where it went off, it being next to a store where people were stopping in for party supplies. It appeared no one was hurt, which was suprising.

Rather confused as to what just happened, we continued on toward Dolores Park, and enjoyed quite the spectacle of both the SF fireworks along the bay off in the distance, but maybe more the amateur show put on by a number of folks whose hobby it is to secure large quantities of what are illegal fireworks. While the colorful stars of fire are a joy, myself and most those around me didn’t appreciate the number of M80s that were going off in unexpected locations.

The irony is not lost on me that while at the same time thousands of us are celebrating our independence through the casual use of pretty, and sometimes dangerous, explosives, that there are thousands of men and women are half way around the world not celebrating with explosives, rather fearing and using them for less that celebratory means. This includes both soldiers and civilians.
Did you think about this at all last night?

Over the last few months I’ve noticed a stronger and stronger vocal opposition to the war in Iraq. Certainly many have been vocal for its entire durations, but it seems to have gone beyond the partisan issue the republicans claimed it to be, to something more humanized, and far less rational that it was made out to be and initially believed.

The following are just a couple of pieces that I’m suprised and impressed by their honesty and candor. First is a section of Mark Danner’s commencement speech to the graduates of UC Berkeley’s Department of Rhetoric, where he quotes an iraqi blog about the terrible reality of war. Following that is the video of Keith Olberman’s special comment on May 23rd deriding the Bush administrations insistence on the Iraq war despite the immense opposition to it and Bush himself.

“How, in these “words in a time of war,” can I convey to you the reality of that place at this time? Let me read to you a bit of an account from a young Iraqi woman of how that war has touched her and her family, drawn from a newsroom blog. The words may be terrible and hard to bear, but–for those of you who have made such a determined effort to learn to read and understand–this is the most reality I could find to tell you. This is what lies behind the headlines and the news reports and it is as it is:

‘We were asked to send the next of kin to whom the remains of my nephew, killed on Monday in a horrific explosion downtown, can be handed over…

So we went, his mum, his other aunt and I… When we got there, we were given his remains. And remains they were. From the waist down was all they could give us. “We identified him by the cell phone in his pants’ pocket. If you want the rest, you will just have to look for yourselves. We don’t know what he looks like.” [...]

We were led away, and before long a foul stench clogged my nose and I retched. With no more warning we came to a clearing that was probably an inside garden at one time; all round it were patios and rooms with large-pane windows to catch the evening breeze Baghdad is renowned for. But now it had become a slaughterhouse, only instead of cattle, all around were human bodies. On this side; complete bodies; on that side halves; and everywhere body parts.

We were asked what we were looking for; “upper half,” replied my companion, for I was rendered speechless. “Over there.” We looked for our boy’s broken body between tens of other boys’ remains; with our bare hands sifting them and turning them.’”