Monday, July 25, 2016

Warm Enough for Kool Aid

Poor Philadelphia. You'd think a city that was the home of the Declaration of Independence would deserve better than the Phillies, Eagles, and the 76'ers. 

And you would be right; if God were fair and just they would be better rewarded but, instead, starting today, Philadelphia's also the host for the national nominating convention of the Democratic Party. According to an AP headline in my local paper yesterday morning, the goal of the Dems' convention is simple but perhaps a bridge too far. 

Last week's escapades in the Mistake by the Lake did less than nothing for me. If this week's goal, making Hillary Clinton likeable, is daunting, last week's, make Donald Trump coherent, was an abject failure. More and more I can see why fewer and fewer people vote and when that happens, asshats (and you can pick your poison this time around) get into office. 

So before the music swells (I'm hoping 10 CC gave permission so we can skip a repeat of last week's 'not with our music' kerfluffle) and the red, white, and blue balloons drop from the ceiling, let's make sure we all recall what a cat rodeo we had as a nation before the Worst. Muslim. Kenyan. in. history. became the President, because truth is always the first casualty in Presidential elections.    

And if this reads like an indictment of George W. Bush, read harder, cupcake. The folks across the aisle from his party were in it up to their knees and more often to their butts. There's plenty of blame to go around and as long as I can draw a breath and write a sentence, I'll do my damnedest to make sure that's never forgotten. 

Welcome to Mr. Peabody's WAYBAC machine. Seat belts on? Please, keep your hands, heads, and hearts inside the ride and don't be afraid of the dark, because it's all dark.

It's the mid-2000's and we have the illusion of blue skies and good times and the reality of easy money. And then the wheels fell off. Nobody we know invented Bernie Madoff (not the problem, a symptom).I can't even conceive of a hustle like that, my brain is too small to do it. Do you know anyone who was working a McJob and who bought a house with a 400K mortgage through a bank? Nope, me neither. For the longest time, all the reporting on the 'economic tsunami' could have been from Pago-Pago. 

When the banks started going out of business, we began to take this seriously and got very solemn and sort of grim. We spoke about putting our shoulders to the wheel, reminded each other 'we've been through this before' (well, no, we haven't; our parents and their parents have been through this before) talked a LOT about shared sacrifice and vowed to 'pull together.'

So, in light of all the bickering and dickering, posturing, pouting and politicking for most of the last decade, from the 
Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol, the political discourse in DC has been little more than "I know you are, but what am I?" This November is the next iteration of finger-pointing as integral to the problem-solving matrix. That's crap and we need to acknowledge it and call out those who do it. 

Welcome to the New Prosperity, please insert forty cents for the next three minutes. You probably don't get that. At one time in America, we had phones in glass booths on every street corner because we had no phones in our pockets. We could put coins in those phones, starting with a dime, and call people, Mrs. Avery (I had honestly NEVER heard that version before)). We can't afford a return to the Good Old Days, so this will have to do. Especially since this is all there is.
We hold elections for office-seekers as if the candidates were magicians. Open the curtain and let the wizards' duel begin! Voila! Government Healthcare or law of the jungle poof! A balanced budget or Kazaam! NATO or Nuts to you! All with no money down and no easy, monthly payments. But when the house lights come up, it's always no more than two bozos in bathrobes and pointy hats on stage. 

And a lot of unpaid bills. It's not Trump or Clinton; they want to be what we want them to be. It's Trump and Clinton and all the other drive-by simple solutions simpletons. We want an America "back" that not only doesn't exist, it may have never existed.  And it won't happen because it can't happen. Not to worry, one of them will give it to us, honest.

This is where we are now. Lies are facts, day is night, and war is peace. We'll eat what's on our plates, even if we don't like it; especially if we don't like it. And we can wash it all down with the tears of our regrets.
-bill kenny

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