Folks who don’t know why America is the Land of Promise should be here during an election campaign.
Elections are supposedly when people find out what politicians stand for. But it is more likely when politicians find out what people will fall for.
And, in truth, politicians are the same the world over. Pretty much the way humans are all similar – merely divided by culture and race. They promise everything – even to build bridges over where there are no rivers, or gullies, or houses of pleasure, or sacred burial grounds or endangered campaign-donor species…
I know…I know… it is useless to hold someone to anything he promises while in love, drunk or running for office. Lying is like alcoholism – you are always recovering.
But it takes two to lie – one to lie and one to listen. And while we listeners are dreaming of pearls and silk, we are so easily seduced. We are, indeed, cheap backseat dates.
Hell, we are practically begging for Washington, Wall Street, and workers who do little more than stand around a pot hole… to stick it to us with all they got – and make it hurt! And all the while, those bailed-out, bonus-paid bankers are still chortling over the money they swindled evicting widows bundled by mortgage derivatives.
We are told what we want to hear. The flattery fuels our simple-minded vanities, our desperations and mostly our myopic desires.
Indeed, it is beguiling.
In the end we are forever disappointed. And that’s because we are always looking to the tongues and words of crafty men. We do not see their deeds that are being done. Even if we do, we act as blind mice trying to define an elephant: One touches the ear and declares this is not a beast but a leathery leaf; another feels the trunk and proclaims it to be a snake…and so the story unfolds.
The problem isn’t that we are blind. It is that we also make ourselves deaf, dumb, senseless and completely stupid. The truth is irrelevant. We believe what we are foolishly led to believe.
I shouldn’t need to remind you of the few who were enriched by W’s Weapons of Mass Destruction and duh Patriot Act. Or, Obama’s bank bailouts. Or, Romney’s hedge fund transactions that shipped jobs overseas while he now promises to create jobs in America.
As my dear ol’ bourbon sippin’ Pappy used to exhale between those omnipotent puffs on his omniscient corn cob pipes: “The reason politicians, lawyers and the cabal of their demon seeds are able to rob rape and pillage so easily is because the rest of us are too busy watching football!”
We are so easily distracted by T&A, duh sizzle, false messiahs and TV reruns because, as Einstein noted, there are only two infinite things: The universe and human stupidity. And I’m not too sure about the first.
Indeed, you have to wonder about a country where the bombs are smarter than the high school graduates…At least the bombs can find Iraq on the map.
And whom do we have to blame but ourselves. You know the old saw: Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice — tar, tether and toss me overboard.
How many more autumns do the leaves have to choke, change colors and drop dead before we Charlie Browns come to comprehend that we can never trust Lucy, the government, and duh rest of the gang of dirty, rotten thieves, to hold the bloody football?
In case you haven’t noticed, our legitimatized Ponzi schemes from Social Security to university degrees to denial of global warming are no longer working. The pyramids have collapsed. They can’t sustain themselves. And what are our Presidential candidates shouting and shooting about? — Obamacare and Rumneyhood.
They both are offering variations of the same solutions to the same dilemmas such as Medicare. That is, to slice a trillion here and a trillion dere without seeming to appreciate that most of Western Civilization has somehow managed this health-care problem fairly well. Perhaps without saving everybody, yet most of the disabled bodies.
And all the while, instead of thinking, protesting, proffering bigger, better and cheaper ideas, we, the ignorant, pornographic hoi polloi are doing little more than buying lottery tickets. And not so that we can help solve any of these aforementioned afflictions. But so we can get the hell out of Dodge. Join the 1%.
And quick ain’t fast enough.
But consider the lottery for a moment. It was once an illegal numbers racket — just like alcohol was once prohibited and drugs were once legal. Of course all these vacillations accompanied the crafty charms of flattery and seduction of our leaders and their greedy cabals. They convinced us – even the reluctant — that the chains they have forged for us are necessary ornaments.
All the while, the lottery is little more than a bait and switch that any carny-man, car salesman or most of our capitalist con men are spieling.
I mean, most of us ain’t gonna live long enough to collect the annuity, so we settle for the cash payout of sometimes 67-cents on the dollar. Then there are the taxes that stick it to us and makes it hurt for another, almost 30 percent.
I look at it like inhaling what you think is a pretty woman when you’re drunk and nobody’s ugly after 2AM.
That’s what I call the annuity.
But then you get up close and the tire marks start tracking their way thru the wars of her embattled life. And as you meet and greet and later unhitch to peek under her(?) super-padded living bra, the mountains of golden promises start falling flatter than a broken condom.
And that’s where the annuity moves to a cash transaction.
Then as you later slip off those silky red Victoria Secrets, you find there’s more than you can ‘handle’ down there. Now that’s where matters can get to be a tad over taxing…
But what the hell, what duh hell, what the heck. Most of us don’t get what we want; we get what comes. And keeps us coming back. Along with all your ‘old’ friends and family who start rediscovering you and your fast and furious ‘fortune.’
And pretty soon, all you know is that you’ve got more bad fortune and less good money than you had before the lottery cash payout – that is, except for this transvestite that you once fancied in the dark. He is still giving you all he’s got, hurting you in places the government-lottery payout didn’t bother to cover.
Hmm…. In the immortal words (at least those that are printable) of my inimitable dear ol’ Pappy: We’re screwed, kid. We’ve been had.
And that’s war.
It may be true that you can’t fool all the people all the time, but you can fool enough of them to rule a large country.
So, I have come to the conviction that there ought to be one day – at least one – when there is open season on politicians. Particularly those who don’t keep their promises. It’s good ol’ frontier justice called accountability and consequences, where justice would be rescued from its kidnappers who secluded her in the law.
This hunting season would also extend to us stupid people who aren’t able to discern crafty words from ignoble deeds and vote knowledgeably. In other words, we must be schooled to understand the language so as not to be misinformed and misled.
But of course!
It would be easier to alter the earth’s path about the sun. Instead, we continue on the path of madness. We disinter the past, but don’t reap any wisdom; only the ineptitude to repeat our transgressions.
Promises are wonderful. That is, if all you are looking for is a deeply meaningful overnight relationship. But we are looking for the salvation – the democratic way — through the infinite number of corridors our forefathers marched and fought through in founding the world’s first republic. How do we flush out the self-inflicted food poisoning before it is completely digested and kills the entire body?
Right now, as we approach another election to the Big Dance, we are gazing down upon an erstwhile empire that is left with little more than empty symbols. And, you must agree, those baubles of cheap cereal box medals are for the ‘symbol-minded.’
Meanwhile, the rest of us – the prostrate, obeisant taxpayers — are left to do the heavy lifting with real back problems: back taxes, back rent, back auto payments… It’s time to get back to our future. Our future was when we were a Land of Promise.
Real promise. When men gave their word. And kept their promises.
And dats yDrewIS on DIS penal colony…