Serving the Metropolitan Area
By Jack Parnell - retired Congressman and Independent Presidential candidate
Syndicated by Acme Features
How and why did Americans come to largely accept the smart people’s observation that they are sheeple… contemptibles… dittoheads? Bipartisan deplorables. Warn't long ago, historically speaking, we tossed out the Brits... world's alpha empire at the time... cleared the frontier, slaughtered them woo-woo Indians, fought a bloody Civil War, then bounced back to more or less world domination by the close of World War Deuce. Oh, them Russians had some bombs, and did bushwack us on Sputnik, but turned out just a suit of empty armor... see?... nobody home inside once Neal Armstrong took that giant step and the Gipper snapped his fingers at Berlin’s beautiful Wall.
We ruled the roost, we did, from '45 on until... well that's a point at issue. Some say we started falling apart November 22nd, in '63, others point to Vietnam, the Watergate, Reagan’s tax reforms... after that, things get somewhat partisanly nebulous as to fixing blame.
I, personally, point to the day this ol' cowpoke Congressman Morton Scow told me 'bout drifted up into the Sierras from Santa Cruz with his horse, Blackfoot, and dog, Pudge, round the turn of millennium; moseyed into Altaville among all them dot-Commies priced out of Santa Clara to set up shop as...
God's truth! Hide your face, John Wayne, kick your hats out'n the ring Ron Reagan, Clint Eastwood, even Don Knotts. Ringo plants himself on the sidewalk with a tin cup, telling anybody as bothered to ask: "World owes me!"
Guy coulda cleaned up, selling rides to kids, Morty says. "Ten dollars a spin atop ol' Blackfoot, five more per Polaroid (that being just a smidgen before the cellphones everywhere). Far as I know, it wasn't the insurance people who stopped him. He just wanted to go on the bum." Shed a tear for a lonesome cowpoke.
Soul of America!
I think something in a lot of 'Murkans has always wanted to be kicked round and degraded, and it’s been out there for a long, long time. Back in the Old World, they've a sort of name for it... imitation principle, I think, or else identification... (something as begins with "i"!)... where people most proud of being abused and kicked round like curs are those proximate the biggest, stinkiest cheeses. Maids and butlers, coachmen, middle management of big corporations, little Remains of the Day people as delude themselves into thinking the glory of their betters radiates across them, that rooting on the overdogs will sustain the self-delusion that they're to the purple people born, by association. "Conservatives," opined Christopher Lord of the Institute of International Relations, have always depended upon "a working-class vote, based on tradition."
Those tea-sippers on the right and liberal white whiners joined together in Obama’s black Christmas back in 2011, a corrupt deal as greased the path for Mister Trump by restoring the Bush tax cut for millionaires and billionaires while showering the unemployed with little golden parachutes of another year’s unemployment benefits for sitting on their butts with the former only being undone at the cost of raising the payroll taxes and, a few weeks later, gutting Medicare.
Actually, that part steams me even more than those handouts to the rich… like our President raiding the oil reserve intended for refinery-destroying hurricanes or Taliban takeovers in Kuwait or Saudi Arabia and then the gigglin’ oilies raising prices… these have been going on since 1947, with only a few exceptions, and, since 1980, unrelentingly so. While the concept of “moral hazard” is largely used by the termites as resent any gumment benefits (like food stamps or children’s healthcare) accruing to sub-millionaires, it is, nonetheless, real. We are quickly devolving into a society where the (formerly) working-class joins the rural and urban underclasses in a uselessness, resentment and an entropic IP that will endure for generations.
Back in the Depression, President Roosevelt (who, like his cousin Teddy, is now portrayed as a Commonist vole by the talk radio history revisioning machine) drew up a program to keep the unemployed alive against the day as they might become useful again (December 7, 1941) and promote those works for the general welfare, which was called the W.P.A. Not the Welfare Progress Administration, however, but the Works Progress Administration – emphasis on works - as built highways, bridges, railroads, all those things as are now deteriorating for lack of bodies for the maintenance as are sittin’ on the couch of a three in the afternoon, drinking beer and watching Judge Ashcroft expostulate on the Devil’s bargain with Democrats and their calico cats.
I think you can guess
what I would’ve done with that deal… Used
to think Americans were smarter... after all, we were settled by people who
didn't cotton to all that bulldada over there, so
they left and became us. But, lately… and as conservatism decayed from
Hamilton and Madison to Barry Goldwater to Reagan, to the Bush family, finally
to the snake-handlers as sip present-day G.O.P. tea… I find this rugged
individualism decaying into kick-me-I-can-take-it attitude's
crawled over the
Some head-doctors call this attitude "Drift"... for reasons that bad self-esteem tends to drift round, scooping up other bad ideas from the minds that hate. Police hold "drift theory" cause for crime and prostitution, in that abused children who get told they're no good drift into the juvenile delinquency, "accepting labels on themselves as they go," says one psychologist, "then acting out roles suggested by the labels. They become who their labels have told them they are."
We pile our own angst
over kids. School dress-code warriors outlaw differingly-colored
shoestrings, Stars of David and crescents (though not crosses, as yet), dollar
signs, pitchforks, the numbers 5 and 6 (but not 13), Playboy Bunny logos and
single gloves (presumably gestures of solidarity with martyred pedophile
Michael Jackson). And, even though the
Feds under Aygee Sessions have trumped the twenty-two
states as have voted to legalize (and tax) marijuana, thus shutting the cellar
door on the ur-conservative principle of states
rights, God's Supremes have upheld Indiana's "Zonker
Law" as criminalizes "advocacy" of drug use in the media. "Zonker (a burned-out hippie in the formerly liberal comic
strip Doonesbury) is a real person in our society," alleged Brian Lungren, brother and campaign manager of a defeated
candidate for Governor out there in
We surrender ancient liberties, fearing that ultimate, irremediable personal entropy... death... vainly attempting to fend it off by embracing, however inconsistently, the Ancient Mariner's old opium-buddy: life-in-death. Our Zero Tolerance society locks up kids longer than Casey Anderson for possession of Motrin and plastic scissors and Federal agents storm into those statewide-legalized medicinal dope parlors in Boulder and Seattle, beating the crap out of 85 year old cancer patients. The zero point two drunk driving laws scoop up thousands of ladies who enjoyed a small glass of wine at the Olive Garden, and nighttime entertainment establishments are closing, left and right (President Trump and his family said to be forming a consortium to buy them up for pennies on the dollar and reopen as casinos after 2020). Our media are chock-a-bloc with celebrity chefs as taunt us with bizarre, high-calorie treats, followed by tricky doctors who admonish that one spoonful of said delicacies will being instant death… with ambulance-chasing lawyers promising to sue both chefs and doctors, phony courtrooms adjudicating disputes between dirtbags… with Americans desperate to humiliate themselves and their ilk for a handful of money, or just to be on TV. "I think it's despicable that so many Americans feel compelled to pour out their flaws," remarked Mimi Silber of the Delancey Street rehab, one of the few as worked, more often as not. "People seem almost obliged to tell others how bad they are."
Jack Kerouac started out as a New Deal liberal, then became King of the Beatniks, finally a right-wing dittohead succoring William F. Buckley (the Limbaugh of his day). Some of his old essays were reprinted in a short book called “The Haunted Life”, which I highly recommend, especially the parts where he tees off on cronies like Alan Ginsburg and William S. Burroughs for being decadent liberals… masochists who’d rather strike imposing poses than accomplish anything of political substance. He wrote this in 1948 and was, of course, ahead of his time.
I do admit today’s gumment has created a few jobs for urine-sniffers and titty-fondling transit Checkpoint Charlies, but either we flush this national undinism down the crapper and content ourselves with an imperfect society (whereby the actions of miscreants may be sanctioned, but not their aspects, thoughts or precious bodily fluids) or bring back total prohibition against any substance perceived suspect to the eye of God... or the WHO/AMA. Tobacco first, of course, then the rest... beer and sugar, red meat, extreme sports and aspirin. And, of course, coffee, tea and the chocolate (as is going extinct anyway), after we first shut down any restaurant or vending machine selling their swill in cups larger then six ounces (and that only to prevent the tiredness among drivers as might cause accidents).
The full Bloomberg!
Iran and Iraq and Syria and Egypt and them other places we went to war in to save from themselves turned out to want aggressively puritanical Islamic Republics and them as emigrated to Belgium and such places now demand the nationwide invocation of Sharia Law (tho’ I do rather like the part about cutting off the hands of identity thieves). Libya went and burned up our ambassadors, and all that we could come up with was that it was some plot by Al-Qaeda wannabees and not the legitimate outrage of what, worldwide, amounts to about a billion Mohammedans as want nothing more out of life than the chance to kill Christians and Jews and other faithful and non-faithful people according to Deuteronomy Chapter Twenty (as is held holy by all Big Three religions) and, once that is done, kill all them other Muslims that hold to a disagreement over something as happened in 600 or, maybe, 800 AD. Now I ain’t one down with the golden spectacles, but if Americans really want so… let’s declare ourselves a Mormonic Republic (and take it for granted that those decadent Europeans leave out the second “m”)… and let all those mouth-breathers as plan on flocking to New Hampshire to present their cases deal with that. (Or maybe not, since it would seem that the odds-on alternative to Jeb, next trip around, just might be Mitt!)
As of this authorizing, Kentucky has just joined thirty-seven other states in the symbolic legalization of medicinal weed… provoking an immediate plague of Federal raids on storefronts, homes and old folks homes – herding sinners into jails and confiscating cars and houses, even a few churches (which revenues, of course were the unspoken objective of the legislation). Well, this Catfish has one reactionary remedy for substance-related crime. Back a ways even further than the Sunni-Shiite schism or first Congress of Niceaea, back around six or seven hundred BC, this tyrant, Pittacus... now, to the early Greeks, tyranny was just a word meaning any politician running any gumment... anyway, Pittacus was Tyrant of Lesbos and enemy to this lady Sappho, who gave the whole island its reputation it has (she being one of those lesbian Lesbians while Pittacus was just a Lesbian, and tyrant thereof, though not necessarily tyrannical). Aristotle and Plato mention Pittacus, not for his difficulties with lesbian Lesbians, but for his policy on substance abuse, which went like this...
Anybody could put anything into any bodily orifice, Health Nazis be damned. (Anything, in those days, meant mostly wine, also the occasional lotus, mandrake or something else as cannot be mentioned in a family publication.) But if a man committed a crime under the influence, his condition was not... as here, without involvement of automobiles... considered mitigating. It was an aggravating circumstance! Harsher, not easier, sentences for tipsy rapists, robbers and murderers... and no more whining. No more PSA (public snitch appeals) to ‘Murkans to peek through their own and others’ windows and report "anomalies... things that are different"… to Mister Sessions’ fuzz.
In the eighteenth century, genuine libertines like King George, Ben Franklin and the Earl of Sandwich raised unholy hellfire "not like these whimpering mashers who keep fouling our headlines today," observed degeneracy's late connoisseur, Hunter S. Thompson who, at least, had the foresight to shoot himself as an alternative to soldiering on as a sick, old man in the bipolar American empire. Against them stood genuine economic and moral conservatives like Adam Smith, men who applied both soft or "amiable" and hard or "awful" virtues first to themselves... "self-denial, dignity, honor," and a capacity "to feel much for others and little for ourselves."
Today, we enjoy the worst of both virtue and vice... a Security State obsessed with smiting sin as opposed to deterring, detecting and apprehending criminals, allowing for the sublimation of innate animal desires into… consumerism! Six year old girls dressing like whores, crunk music, Souljacker… rights and entitlements! How far we've drifted, like that lonesome cowpoke of Altaville, and over such a short time, too!
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