Michael Moore's latest film polemic "Fahrenheit 9/11" has turned out to be a really big hit. Thanks in no small part to all the excellent, totally free publicity generated by various idiots on the Radical Right (and no, they will never learn), the film has become a cultural phenomena. More importantly, it is actually a darn good piece of work; well researched, well crafted, and very entertaining. Most importantly, however, it is generating large piles of cash, thus guaranteeing even wider distribution.

This is all very cool because, in my opinion, "Fahrenheit 9/11" needs to be seen. Is it biased? Rhetorical question. Does it take cheap shots? Of course it does, but not many. Is it intellectually dishonest? In at least one instance, arguably, yes. "Fahrenheit 9/11" has its flaws as does its creator, but that doesn't obviate the fact that the film is overwhelmingly a work of great emotion and truth.

And the truth is that the Bush junta is a collection of well-connected, elitist, and arrogant liars. I had them pegged as such before they stole the 2000 election and have followed their subsequent trail of mendacity, so I know quite a bit about the specifics Moore addressed in his documentary. But there is an even more prevalent and important theme in "Fahrenheit 9/11," one that has been largely ignored in all the hoopla: America has a serious class problem, especially when it comes to waging war.

This should come as news to exactly no one, but Moore makes the point that people from lower economic circumstances are more likely to sign up for military service than the children of the elite, or as Bush refers to them, "my base." And in Iraq, these young - appallingly young - soldiers are taking lives and often getting killed, or horribly maimed, while corporate cronies of Dick Cheney and other war profiteers rake in the dough, which, by the way, comes from the pockets of American taxpayers. That's quite a scam; the working class is financing a war in which their children fight and die to make the ruling class even richer.

An old story, to be sure, and one that mainstream American Pooh-Bahs and media hacks are wont to dismiss as "class warfare." Call it what you will; class is a fact of life in wartime America and Moore takes it on. The most compelling moments in "Fahrenheit 9/11" involve ordinary American soldiers and their families dealing with the fallout from the war, trying to cope with great personal tragedy in the face of overweening incompetence and greed. Michael Moore is willing to document the costs of war in a manner more explicit than our so-called leaders and their media collaborators would like. Like him or not, he's doing the country a service.

Those of us on the Left should go see "Fahrenheit 9/11" for some seriously overdue validation. (Really, if Cheney can say, "go fuck yourself" on the Senate floor and not apologize, we're certainly entitled to a hearty "I told you so.") Folks on the Right should go see it so they'll know what the hell they're talking about. And as for those people of no particular political persuasion, I hope they'll go see it just because they can. Warts and all, "Fahrenheit 9/11" is a profoundly patriotic film.

[Notes from "Fahrenheit 9/11": I truly wasn't all that disturbed by the scene of the titular President of the United States sitting dumbstruck in a Florida classroom on Sept. 11 after the second WTC tower was struck. Bush had the old "deer in the headlights" look about him, but at least it was an honest reaction. A bit eerie to be sure, but he looked genuinely shocked. Who wasn't.

I was more outraged by that stunt of Bush posing and preening in his flight suit onboard the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln. What an insult. I'm no hero, but at least I wore a uniform for four years and didn't go AWOL because I couldn't pass a drug test. The man is a fraud and a disgrace to the uniform.

Finally, I was utterly appalled by the treatment of members of the U.S. House of Representatives Black Caucus at the hands of Al Gore and his fellow Senate Democrats in the wake of the 2000 election disaster. Absolutely disgraceful.

Oh yes, one more thing. The ending of the film is perfect. Just perfect.]

It would seem that optimism is in vogue again. Pay no attention to all that barbaric negativity coming out of Iraq; never mind those truly scary legal pronouncements of John Ashcroft, Minister of Truth. It's time to get with the program. No less a personage than George W. Bush, world-class empty suit and leader of the Holy American Empire, has declared that he is an optimist. At last, we are free to let our joy know no bounds.

This, despite over two years of constant fear mongering and Code Fuschas. I guess all it took was a couple of weeks of wallowing in the reflected effulgence of Ronald Reagan to perk America right up. Reagan lived and died with blood on his hands, but by golly, he was an optimistic fellow after all, and that counts for more than the lives of tens of thousands of mostly poor foreigners and American homosexuals. Give me a goddamned break. I am not unsympathetic to Reagan's family, but I refuse to have anything to do with this exercise in unctuous, patriotic self-gratification. I'll look for reasons for hope elsewhere, thank you.

Fortunately, I have recently found three: one frivolous, one personal, and one spiritual.

Reason 1: The Detroit Pistons dismantled the Los Angeles Lakers in five and are the champions of the NBA. YES! Teamwork and hard-nosed defense rule and we old-school basketball fans love it. (Not that I really hate the Lakers, but enough already.) I hope Joe Dumars can keep this Piston team together.

Reason 2: I had the pleasure of hearing again from a young man named Devon Reehl. I've know Dev since he was about three years old and gladly take credit for getting him started on a career as a drummer. Anyway, after thirteen years, I get a call and it's Devon and he's in town with his band "Revision" and can I make the gig? You bet I can. I am thrilled to report that not only has Devon become a thoughtful, gracious, and really good-looking guy, but he is also a terrific funk drummer. He has a fluid, economical style and sits "in the pocket" like a champ. We had an opportunity to get re-acquainted, catch up, and begin to establish a real man-to-man relationship. What a gift.

Reason 3: Ray Charles. Some historical background might be useful here.

My first job in radio was as a Sunday morning announcer in a small Georgia town. From 6:00 AM til Noon, I set up microphones and introduced a parade of mostly Black preachers and gospel singers who paid, in cash, for 15 or 30 minutes of airtime. These were very nice people and eventually I (along with my tape recorder) was invited to assorted gospel concerts all over central Georgia. Not bad for a longhaired, seriously lapsed fundamentalist Baptist White boy. These "Gospel Soul Trains" were like church, only church based on music, not guilt. They were joyous, soul affirming, and irresistible. Everyone was welcome and the Holy Spirit was always in the house.

I came to realize that when music, any music, has that kind of uplifting power, it does not matter where it comes from. I didn't then, and don't now, buy into any particular religion; but I'm no fool. Religious or secular, sacred or profane, all great music emanates from the same source. Just get your ass on the train and let it take you to some place where your spirit can soar.

We each have certain musicians in our lives, exceptional artists, living and gone, who lift us up and make us glad we have ears to hear. For me, Ray Charles is one of those artists. I mourn his passing, but his legacy remains; a legacy not of power and blood, but of genius and soul. In these dark days, that's an abiding reason for optimism.