Mitt Romney's Childhood Home: Victim of Economic Decline

Goodness knows, Mitt Romney is not asking me for campaign advice. But you have to wonder why he hasn't taken the opportunity to connect with Americans who've lost their homes by talking about his childood home in Detroit. The 5,500-square-foot structure in the long-exclusive Palmer Woods was demolished two years ago, an artifact of the blight that has ravaged so much of the Motor City.

Romney's family lived there for twelve years until 1953, before his father went on to become head of American Motors Corp., Governor of Michigan, and U.S. Secretary of Housing and Urban Development. As recently as 2002, the house sold for $645,000, then suffered foreclosure, abandonment and disrepair before finally being torn down in 2010.

Comments

[Robert]

Hmmm...I heard of that last week. It seems plausible escaube the reality is that only Dr. Ron Paul and Governor Mitt Romney have actual delegate counts. What the news sites show in the way of delegate counts is utterly false. The real delegate counts show that the Romney camp have a concern that Dr. Paul might be a thorn in their side...and so, they might be trying to broker with him before it gets nasty at the convention. The truth of the matter is that the Romney camp rigged this year's system with the GOP officials so that he would have an easier sweep of the delegates--even if he lost states. Well, Dr. Ron Paul got news of this and is now beating Governor Romney at his game and alerted his supporters across the country to pay attention and to not leave the voting areas after the announcement of the caucus or primary winners escaube that's when they pick delegates. If you don't have people who sign up to be delegates then, it's game over--even if you won the state primary. It's slightly complicated, but Rachel Maddow interviewed Doug Wead about all of this nonsense in the wake of the phony Maine results. Sorry I cannot include it here, but if you do a youtube search or go to ronpaulflix.com, you'll find all of it cataloged there. In Christo Rege,[email protected]

[Enzo]

I'm sorry, but I would still vote for Romney, and see no other viable oipotns in our cast of candidates. I wish this weren't true, but must face facts.a0Santorum is going to be crucified by the anti-religious left-and evena0Republicans who don't like his invasive (not truly) moral standards.a0Trust me I lived through the Kick Rick Out campaign in 2006, and they beat him down bad. Perry will alsoa0get beat up by the left for all manner of his conservativeness and his performance in the early debates, and thena0get skewered in debates with Obama.a0 Gingrich is smart, but not savvy. I'd say he is whining enough now to lose any hopes he had. I won't even talk Hunstman, and what's left? OH, Paul.Forget about him. If he wins or runs as 3rd party, I will simply shoot myself. I am depressed enough without listening to all of the infighting, and the laughing by the left.I would hope thata0Romney the Rinoa0would pick a running mate of highest conservative values- such as West-or my dream ticket- Rubio! Now that I hear this, I suppose West would not be on that list, but if he would he would have my gratitude!God Help Us.

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[A'isha Said]

FOUR HOURS IN CHATILA

A photograph has two dimensions, so does a television screen; neither can be walked through. From one wall of the street to the other, bent or arched, with their feet pushing against one wall and their heads pressing against the other, the black and bloated corpses that I had to step over were all Palestinian and Lebanese. For me, as for what remained of the population, walking through Chatila and Sabra resembled a game of hopscotch. Sometimes a dead child blocked the streets: they were so small, so narrow, and the dead so numerous. The smell is probably familiar to old people; it didn’t bother me. But there were so many flies. If I lifted the handkerchief or the Arab newspaper placed over a head, I disturbed them. Infuriated by my action, they swarmed onto the back of my hand and tried to feed there.

The first corpse I saw was that of a man fifty or sixty years old. He would have had a shock of white hair if a wound (an axe blow, it seemed to me) hadn’t split his skull. Part of the blackened brain was on the ground, next to the the head. The whole body was lying in a pool of black and clotted blood. The belt was unbuckled, a single button held the pants. The dead man’s feet and legs were bare and black, purple and blue; perhaps he had been taken by surprise at night or at dawn. Was he running away? He was lying in a little alley immediately to the right of the entry to Shatfla camp which is across from the Kuwaiti Embassy. Did the Chatila massacre take place in hushed tones or in total silence, if the Israelis, both soldiers and officers, claim to have heard nothing, to have suspected nothing whereas they had been occupying this building since Wednesday afternoon? A photograph doesn’t show the flies nor the thick white smell of death. Neither does it show how you must jump over bodies as you walk along from one corpse to the next. If you look closely at a corpse, an odd phenomenon occurs: the absence of life in this body corresponds to the total absence of the body, or rather to its continuous backing away. You feel that even by coming closer you can never touch it. That happens when you look at it carefully. But should you make a move in its direction, get down next to it, move an arm or a finger, suddenly it is very much there and almost friendly. Love and death. These two words are quickly associated when one of them is written down. I had to go to Chatila to understand the obscenity of love and the obscenity of death. In both cases the body has nothing more to hide: positions, contortions, gestures, signs, even silences belong to one world and to the other. The body of a man of thirty to thirty-five was lying face down. As if the whole body was nothing but a bladder in the shape of a man, it had become so bloated in the sun and through the chemistry of decomposition that the pants were stretched tight as though they were going to burst open at the buttocks and thighs. The only part of the face that I could see was purple and black. Slightly above the knee you could see a thigh wound under the torn fabric. Cause of the wound: a bayonet, a knife, a dagger? Flies on the wound and around it. His head was larger than a watermelons black watermelon. I asked his name; he was a Muslim.

What did Israel gain in the Chatila massacre? Answer: what did it gain by entering Lebanon? What did it gain by bombing the civilian population for two months; by hunting down and destroying Palestinians? What did it want to gain in Chatila: the destruction of Palestinians. It kills men, it kills corpses. It razes Chatila.