Shock and Elves

Every week this column is undertaken in the spirit of a challenge. Generally, that challenge is: Out of which gaping chasm of Hell will my allotted 666 words spew? This week's gaping chasm is called the Kellogg Brown & Root Company, or KBR.

Don't confuse KBR with the other Kellogg-named company that has brought us such delightful mascots as the Keebler Elves, their cousins Snap & Crackle & Pop, Toucan Sam, and Tony the Tiger.

When it broke away from Halliburton in April, 2007, KBR took over as the company having the largest contract with the US Government in Iraq. If KBR had mascot elves they'd all look like Dick Cheney. They'd suck when they whistled. Instead of making you hyper, their cereal would give you the runs. It would cost thousands of dollars per box, transferred from your pockets to theirs by the IRS.

Where to begin discussing this giant leech of a company? For help I went to the Wikipedia article on the subject, because I'm too lazy to do actual research. I found out that the giant leech is even sucking the sense out of Wikipedia. The article reads like a PR release by the company.

So I'll begin by recalling that this is the same KBR that three years ago took $385 million for a no-bid contingency contract to build prison labor camps in the United States to help Homeland Security "in the event of an emergency influx of immigrants into the U.S., or to support the rapid development of new programs." That sounds alarming until you find out how KBR operates. They take the money and don't deliver. So, not to worry, we're out the $385 million, but the camps probably won't be built.

KBR was contracted to help rebuild New Orleans after Katrina. To help the Texas-based company, George Bush, the Vice Vice President, suspended labor laws and government contract regulations to allow KBR to hire workers at substandard wages. To help themselves, they saved more profits by just not paying some workers at all. But, not to worry, New Orleans wasn't really rebuilt by KBR. So the contract was paid, but at least there's still hope for the city to recover. If KBR HAD rebuilt it, it would be a shambles now.

In March, KBR was accused of providing our troops in Iraq with contaminated water. Soldiers were coming down with skin disorders and intestinal diseases. To help the Texas-based giant leech meet these accusations, Pentagon spokesman Geoff Morrell advised our serviceman to not drink the water, adding, "Ha, ha!" Unfortunately for our troops, they hadn't been drinking it. The skin & intestinal disease had come entirely from bathing and laundering with the stuff.

[Aside: Geoff Morrell was a weekend White House correspondent for ABC News in 2003 and one of the consistent media cheerleaders for the prewar propaganda. His appointment to the Pentagon position last year looks, walks, and quacks like a reward.]

Recently another problem with KBR's operations in Iraq got some media attention, when a Green Beret was electrocuted in his shower by an ungrounded electrical circuit under KBR's oversight. The electrocution-in-showers story was actually a repeat. Servicemen have been getting electrocuted in showers in Iraq because of shoddy workmanship of KBR or their subcontractors for years now. The company has known about it since at least 2005.

They blamed the problem on some of those subcontractors. The Wikipedia whitewash offers the additional excuse: Their Iraq contract didn't cover "fixing potential hazards." It only covered repairing items after they broke down.

It's a whole new way to look at the phrase, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." To, "What doesn't kill you, makes you better," we can add, "If it does kill you, that's no reason to say it's broke." Hey, people are supposed to die over there! It's a war!

To the GIs in Iraq wanting showers, I say: Not to worry, if they ever fixed it, they'd only break it worse.

[Below: The Iraqis said to have installed the Chinese pumps in this CNN story had to have been subcontracted by KBR. KBR was responsible for their work.]

Let's Make The Best Of It!

Well, it's been a slow week here in Lake Weerooldewurld. All that happened was our Vice President said this weekend that another sovereign country would NOT get a bomb such as ones we've waved about for 62 years. We wonder how he could be so sure, given that our army is stretched to the breaking point, Iran has an ally next door (north of it) whose army isn't currently stretched, and who has bigger bunker busters than we do and easier targets (a stretched army conveniently nearby).

The important thing is, if Dick Cheney says Iran won't get nukes, then Iran won't get nukes, because Dick Cheney is the new Caesar. He's bigger than Caesar. Just like every successor to Caesar had to be a Caesar, every successor to Dick Cheney will have to be a Dick. Whether it's Hillary Dick, Barack Dick, Mitt Dick, or Rudy Dick, the one sure thing is it'll be a Dick. Just like the ancient Romans knew they'd always be Caesared in the end, we can be sure that we'll always be Dicked.

But I won't dwell on parallels between our current empire and that of the ancient Romans. That's ancient history. Instead, I'll dwell on the Fifties.

Recently I was reminiscing and remembered a cute thing that happened right here in 1955, when I was 6. I was at 3rd and Pine on the corner that now has the city's most interesting McDonald's (in the sense that bloody highway wrecks are interesting) waiting to cross to the Bon. A man in a blue and green flannel shirt stepped off the curb onto the street while the light was still red. Immediately a voice boomed out, "You! In the blue and green flannel shirt! Yes, you! Please get back on the curb so I don't have to send my two friends over there!" Or, words to that effect.

It was a plainclothes Seattle Police Officer (also wearing a flannel shirt by the way!) watching pedestrians in that intersection from a perch above the Bon Marché's awning. He had a bullhorn and two "friends" -- beat cops on the ground.

You may be thinking, "Wow, and I thought cops today made too much of jaywalking! They were REALLY medieval back in the Fifties! I'm glad I'm not old enough to remember that! Poor Dr. Wes! He's so old!"

If that's what you're thinking, we are not on the same "wavelength." Here's the important thing to note about the incident I just related: The man in the flannel shirt did NOT get a ticket.

Whereas, today, there wouldn't be a cop with a bullhorn warning him to get back on the curb. A motorcycle cop in full storm-trooper gear would sweep down on him, then push him back on the sidewalk, then pin him to the wall, then write him a ticket.

I'm putting all this together. Apparently, as a nation, we are entering into a long period of decline. If we are lucky enough to survive so long, we will be ruled by Dicks for as long as Rome was ruled by Caesars. Like the Caesars, our Dicks will maintain themselves in power by delivering spoils of endless wars to the powerful rich who will in turn be increasingly allowed to bypass our republican institutions, consolidating their own power as well.

It's not for nothing that the symbol of Mussolini's party was taken to be fasces. A bundle of sticks IS stronger than one. It's a great metaphor for the collaboration between corporate interests and the administration: the government is the ax, the corporations the sticks bound together. When the corporations own the government, our turn to fascism will be complete.

But it doesn't have to be all bad. The cop over the awning in 1955 shows you can have fun-loving repression! The guy DIDN'T get a ticket, only a cheerful warning.

Let's make sure our next Dick can say Iran won't get nukes with a real smile on his face, instead of that nasty smirk!