Chasing Amy


Hosting "Democracy Now" has been Goodman's dream job ever since she was a grey-haired little girl.

Hosting “Democracy Now” has been Goodman’s dream job ever since she was a grey-haired little girl.


The only show I make a point to hunt down online and watch every day religiously is the “Headlines” portion of real news show “Democracy Now”, hosted by unbeknownst to them both, Ralph Nader’s long-lost daughter Amy Goodman.  But don’t let her lineage or obvious hippieness fool you.  Twenty-five years ago in East Timor, a place even East Timorians don’t give a fuck about, Goodman literally jumped in front of Indonesian’s soldier’s guns to shield citizens and save their lives.  Of course the soldiers beat the shit out of her, but they weren’t dumb enough to kill an American journalist.  She was dumb enough to try and be a one-woman army though.  She’s like Jill Stein mixed with Rambo.

From what I can tell, these days “Democracy Now” is like her personal news network, and she dominates the broadcasts, usually flanked at her desk by some Spanish dude or some A-rab chick.  But Goodman’s clearly running the show.  They have all types of interviews and whatnot, but “Headlines” is the most essential aspect of the program, and should be mandatory daily viewing for anyone trying to keep up with current world events.

It offers an unfiltered—though slightly skewed to the left as all good things tend to be—ten to fifteen minutes of weekday wrap-ups five days a week.  It’s almost like the reverse schedule of “This Week Tonight.”  The biggest difference is that instead of comedy, “Headlines” offers a straight news rundown in the vein of the classic old BBC news, although today it happened to randomly provide me with a couple of knee-slappers concerning everybody’s favorite comedic subject: suicide bombings.

On a typical desert morning at a quaint little market in lovely downtown Baghdad, where instead of exchanging currency they still barter like its the sixth century, the normal day-to-day sweet sounds of faraway explosions were drowned out by something terrible, yet another explosion that was closer-than-usual, and quicker than you can say, “Allahu akbar”, twenty-one rug riders took that great big magic carpet ride to the sky.  No word yet on any camel casualties.

One reported fact that struck me as odd though from the Goodman Gang was the idea that the market was targeted during supposed peak hours since people were, “Shopping for Ramadan.”  I figured that meant getting a Christmas tree and chocolate eggs or whatever, but then I remembered the religious scholar Biggie’s famous quote, “Get in that ass quick fast like Ramadan.”  Oh yeah.  I forgot, Ramadan’s a fuckin fast.  So what are those diaper-headed assholes shopping for?  Invisible silverware?

Regardless, nonexistent Arabian grocery lists aside, it is worth noting the tragic loss of several children in the attack.  Tragic because now they’ll never grow up long enough to be blown up by good ol’ American bombs.  It’s a damn shame.


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