I’ve been feeling a little discouraged about the nation’s direction lately.
Maybe it’s just me.
Then again, maybe not. Everywhere I go, the sense of impending doom about what’s happening in (and to) our country is palpable. ‘Course, there’s hope: just look at how the country’s come together over the national healthcare issue. With fellowship like that, how long can it be before we’re all debating excitedly ‘round city-sized bonfires, our animated dialogue punctuated by periodic AK47 bursts designed to drive (hollow) points home?
You know we’re firmly ensconced in bizarro world when America’s rulers can prosecute illegal warfare, torture people, shred the Constitution, steal us blind, out secret agents, strong-arm massive corporate welfare and let an entire city drown, yet it’s not until affordable universal healthcare is (ostensibly) proposed that that is the moment herds of screaming, puerile, manipulated-to-the-max neo-brownshirts decide their beloved America — the one that’s only truly ever existed in John Wayne movies, by the way — is under socialistic siege, subsequently demonstrating their suddenly-uncontainable umbrage by throwing big-time, small-minded pissy fits at faux town hall meetings.
The brandishing of firearms outside such events is an especially nice touch. I can only guess what would have happened at an anti-war march had any of us toted an assault rifle. Prior to a U.S. government-sponsored Frankenfoods conference here in Sacramento six years back, our scared witless shitty council (“Remember Seattle!” they were warned constantly by cops and funds-bearing feds) hastily passed a raft of anti-constitutional local ordinances, one of which authorized the arrest of any persons in town (like, say, dissenters, maybe?) found with dirtballs in their pockets.
That’s what I said: dirtballs in people’s pockets.
Speaking of Congress, I’m now convinced a poll could show 137% of Americans strongly favoring something and yet if their desire didn’t happen to coincide with the wishes of Big Business (as, you know, it so often does), then once again out would pop the corporatocracy’s jump-puppets — also known in some circles as “representatives” and “senators” — to engage in so many contortions explaining why they couldn’t give us what we wanted they’d make Russian gymnasts proud. My suggestion? Replace them with Russian gymnasts. We still wouldn’t get what we wanted but at least the back flips would be more expertly done.
Impotence is another thing that’s got me, uh, down. (No, not that kind of impotence — not that I would even know what that’s like. Ever. OK, mostly. All right, then, fine, but at least I still have my memories. Er…what was I saying?) And not that you’ve ever asked yourself this question, but: Just what the hell are we supposed to do to change things?
Vote? (For those who deem this a viable solution, please see jump-puppets reference.)
Protest? Please don’t tell my longtime activist girlfriend this, but while she and I are out there standing on the street corner with seventeen other diehards holding signs and hooting and hollering against the latest outrage, I often feel like the powers-that-be are laughing at us, mocking us. Ignoring us. (Imagine how much worse it would be if they really were!) Actually, I’m not sure which is more deflating: Bush declaring us a focus group, or Obama proving it.
Another bummer is seeing the classic tactics of misdirection and scapegoating being employed to perfection. Sure, the great unwashed (and unemployed) expressed righteous anger when the corporatists in charge tanked the global economy only to be given no-strings-attached trillions more, but their nastiest vitriol has nonetheless been loosed on folks who are blameless (but far more accessible): those fortunate enough to still have jobs and/or houses, including relatives, neighbors and (former) friends.
I should know: I work for California’s teacher licensing agency (no doubt created by Marxist infiltrators who decided our state’s educators should be, well, educated; can you imagine?). Collectively, my fellow (unionized) government employees and I are now public enemy numero uno, personally responsible for everything from massive budget deficits to women with loose morals (actually, that’s one I wouldn’t mind taking credit for… if only I could remember how to go about it). We’re being furloughed three days monthly at fourteen percent less pay but that still isn’t enough: our pitchfork-bearing detractors want all of our heads, regardless the disastrous impact on public services.
That cackling you hear is from the über-corporatists who know full well that envy is a terrible thing to waste and thus play on this natural human frailty to convince millions that if their houses have burned down, the solution is not to go after who set them afire in the first place but demand that others run out and torch theirs, too.
Normally, I’d wrap things up here with some pithy suggestion, but I’m afraid I’m plain pithed off, uh, out. However, I will say, upon further reflection, there actually may be some merit to that whole setting-things-ablaze idea.
Especially if the flash point were centered, you know, somewhere on Wall Street.