We mustn't forget George Orwell, not at a time like this. He wrote the phrase "Big Brother is watching you," pertaining to the government spying on its people; the statement that "all animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others;" and the memorable essay, "Shooting an Elephant."

Orwell was a terribly truthful writer, especially when writing about the power of the English language to obvert and obscure the truth for political purposes. In his novel 1984, the state controlled its citizens minds by fear, and by erasing and revising history. In Animal Farm, the animals who made themselves more equal than others were, of course, the pigs, who, as in government, came out dominant.

He was born Eric Blair: George Orwell was his nom de plume.

Now let us consider George Ohwell, whose real name is Bush. It is he who has so recklessly abused the English language to control the citizens, invoke fear and put the pigs in power, with utter disregard for truth or reality:

Jane Mayer's brave new book on the Bush administration's moral nadir -- the use of torture -- is titled The Dark Side.

The title is from a long-ago remark by Dick Cheney, ominously hinting that the War on Terror might require using practices from "the dark side."

It seems so appropriate a title. The Dark Side means "where the sun don't shine," and that's where Cheney, as we perceive him, seems to dwell.

First, let me introduce myself.

I'm a gnome. I write. Therefore, I am a gnome de plume.

If you know anything about gnomes, you know that we are earth-dwellers. We live in the woods, sometimes under the roots of trees.

You know that we are legendary as guardians of secret treasures. Most people presume that "treasures" means gold, silver, jewels, Rolexes, gallons of gas and other expensive crap. Wrong. You really don't know what the treasures are unless you're an Insider, like us.

George W. Bush could be the world champion Limbo dancer.

Just when you think that even a snake couldn’t squeeze under such a low bar of expectations, Dubya prances under effortlessly, with plenty of headroom to spare.

Okay, what’s his latest? What could be lower than all that’s gone before -- election-stealing, war crimes, spying on American citizens, advocating torture, etc.?

Well, it was when he clamored for another $180 billion to continue his war on Iraq until he leaves office. Congress, too spineless to cut off funds and end the war, instead tried to authorize $50 billion to fund higher education for Iraq/Afghanistan war veterans -- a sort of G.I. Bill update.

Two big capitalistic forces are at work to exhaust and impoverish Americans, and both power themselves by exploiting fears they themselves create.

The similarities are remarkable, once you look at them together.

The first of those forces has long been known by the name President Eisenhower gave it: The Military-Industrial Complex.

The second is coming to be recognized for the problem it is, but it needs a name, so I shall here dub it "The Health Scare Industry."

The longest-ever season of the SURVIVOR “reality” show continues, and we Americans are glued to our screens to see who will be eliminated from the island the next time the tribe has spoken.

Being as self-centered and myopic an audience as Americans are, we hardly give a thought to the impression this show is making on another audience:

That is, the rest of the world.

What? All those foreigners are interested in SURVIVOR (also known as our presidential election)?

How would a real person feel about becoming a comic book hero?

If you asked Rev. Bill Breeden that question right now, you'd probably find he's quite pleased.

Bill is definitely a real person. And, to most of us who know him, he was already a hero before he turned up in this big, new $30 "comic book" titled A People's History of American Empire.

The book is the latest manifestation of the great influence of historian and peacemonger Howard Zinn.

Dear Sen. McCain:

I duly admire your courage. I like a couple of your ideas. But we need moral judgment in the White House, so I'm going to lecture you now on right and wrong. I can do that, because I'm even older than you, and I've never killed civilians. Listen, please:

Bombing, invading and occupying the countries of people who have never attacked us is not right, it's wrong. It is a crime. Crime does not pay. Once you do it, you are morally unable to prevail; you deserve to lose. Even if you can somehow convince yourself that you're getting away with it, it's still a crime. Even if you think you can make someone else's botched crime more efficient by taking control, it's still a crime, and it would be wrong for you to perpetuate it.

The only right thing to do about a crime, if you're in a position to do anything about it, is to put a stop to it and see that the culprits are brought to justice.

Let me say it again, because you seem to be a slow learner: crime is wrong, and whether you do it adeptly or poorly, it won't pay, because it's still a crime.

One leading Democratic candidate for the presidency is a black man, and the other is a woman. By way of civil rights and women's rights, both have progressed this far. Now they're both trying to regress!

It's like some dark, twisted novel. Being a novelist myself, I recognize this kind of story when I see it.

The setting of the story is a mansion. Picture this:

Occupying the mansion is the scion of a line of rich white men. He is a reckless, arrogant, smirking spendthrift who chews with his mouth open and curses with his mouth full. He's never had to earn his way in the world. He's disrespectful of his forebears and has no regard for his neighbors. He could be a boozy heir in an Edna Ferber Texas novel, or the third generation wastrel in a Faulkner plantation story.

One childhood lesson I took to heart and never doubted was "Crime Does Not Pay!" It was a quotation used ubiquitously to keep us all on the straight and narrow path.

There was even a CRIME DOES NOT PAY comic book series, dramatizing the violent downfalls of all the famous crooks -- Dillinger, Baby Face Nelson, Bugsy Siegel, Al Capone, Bonnie and Clyde -- and it was one of my favorite comic books (second only to POGO, which was actually comical).

So firmly was the "Crime Does Not Pay" motto absorbed into my personal ethic that I have lived three quarters of a century without being arrested or charged -- although I was occasionally profiled in the late 1940s for wearing black leather jackets like the Fonz, years and years before Henry Winkler.

At the turn of this new century, though, things began happening that have made me wonder whether maybe crime does pay, if (1.) it seems to work, or (2.) we can just forget that it was committed.