by Soledad Santiago

The dictionary defines patriotism as “love of country” but any definition that includes the word “love” is bound to have many interpretations. Some of us love our cars, our Gucci bags, and our favorite T.V. shows. Others just love to hate. It’s facile to blame Fox T.V. and shock jocks for the screaming fests that pass for discourse on our collective airwaves. But they’re not the only Americans who equate patriotism with war.

My mind wanders back to March 11, 2003, just nine days before we began the Iraq War. Congress found time to pass a resolution: French Fries became Freedom Fries. The French, as you recall, had angered patriots. They opposed the war. We boycotted their wine and cheese. They felt the heat. French embassy spokeswoman, Nathalie Loisau, didn’t quite know how to respond. “We are at a very serious moment in dealing with a very serious issue,” she said, “and we are not focusing on the name you give a potato.”

Five years later, we’re all eating French Fries again but Congress is still funding the Iraq War with emergency appropriations exempt from scrutiny. The price tag is deliberately hidden from us. There’s no-bid contracts galore. We don’t know where the money is coming from or where it’s going. The Founding Fathers would not have approved. Had they believed in taxation without representation, we’d still be Brits. Come on patriots, wake up!

Thanks to the might of the American military, all the oil companies Saddam Hussein kicked out in the 70s are back in Iraq. Exxon Mobil, Shell, Total and BP, Chevron and a few smaller companies are signing no-bid contracts with the Iraqi Ministry of Oil. The so-called “service contracts” are illegal both under American law and the new Iraqi Constitution. If you think “We the People” need oil purchased with blood, you don’t trust American ingenuity and creativity. The “greatest generation” made sacrifices right here at home. We can too. We can break our addiction to oil. To think otherwise that’s unpatriotic.

President Bush tells us the Iraq War is worth the cost. National security is at stake. I wonder about that. With the money spent, we could have rebuilt every school, library, highway, bridge and hospital in America. Had they been at home, our National Guard could have served as first responders when Hurricane Katrina broke the levees. We could have housed and cared for the victims of Katrina and still offered health care for every man, woman, and child in this country. We could have sent our kids to college on inexpensive loans and saved millions from foreclosure. National security just might be another misnamed potato. Strength is a thing that comes from within.

Already, the Iraq War has already lasted longer than WWII. Adjusting for inflation, it has cost eight times more per soldier or $22 billion dollars a month. The ratio of serious injuries to fatalities is higher than in any previous war – 15 to 1. Troops are serving two and three tours of duty. When they get home, they’re crazed and dazed, and can’t get treatment. The actual cost of the war will be borne by our grand-children’s children. I’m not referring to our values, our Constitution, the Bill of Rights or even our basic humanity — just the cold-blooded numbers. The democracy we’re leaving behind in Iraq is our own. What kind of patriotism is that?

So folks, what will it be? Patriotic Freedom Fries that morph into unpatriotic missing flag lapel pins or total, unequivocal, reclamation of “government of the people, by the people, and for the people?”

Here’s the buzz! Eight Modern on Delgado Street – not exactly on Canyon Road - is one of the galleries that’s taking the Santa Fe art scene into the big leagues. The gallery that opened its doors a little over a year ago, is currently showing the work of 2008 Pollock-Krasner award winner, Ted Larsen.

A successful painter in a former incarnation, Larsen now creates tight, precise, minimalist sculptures using reclaimed metal – i.e. junkyard cars – which he cuts, distresses and skins over wood applying silicone, gesso, vulcanized rubber and sometimes beeswax. All that time and energy turns humble substances into objects that are smooth yet textured, old but new.

Larsen surprises in a subliminal way. He achieves improbable colors, translucent white, watermarked fresco aqua, school bus yellow. You ask yourself what’s hiding just beneath the reach of consciousness. Is he saying that human beings, not objects, are the detritus of consumer culture?

Elisabeth Sussman, a curator at the Whitney Museum of Art, wrote the show’s catalogue essay. She sees Larsen’s work as a break from the long-term, reductive trend of monumental abstraction. She jumps back almost a hundred years and finds Larsen making common cause with Picasso’s Guitar (1914). Guitar, also made of discarded metals, heralded a shift in perspective: the industrialism of an age already infected with a new kind of war. In Larsen’s Mend, for example, shades of white and flashes of wood combine with beeswax into a sublimely aesthetic moment that crystallizes a sense of loss.

With a cover design as slick as its content, this book by aerobics instructor, Ann Coulter, is sure to make you sweat off those pounds. Kick-punch through solipsistic circles with Ann. Especially created to trim pounds off your intellect so you can look like a Godless too.