soapboxdiner

We don't need no water. Let the mutha fuckas burn.

I sit amazed at the world and the times and the big fat blender of modernity meeting history and reaching toward posterity and I wonder if we will even make it there. The crush of the greed and the ruthlessness and the dizzingy dervishness of every last patrician face attached to a voice with a finger on a button of power underwhelms me as it now suddenly recovers from decades of dismissive derision. And with coy, falsely loving smiles and a saccharine lilt, those same voices carry equally false but reinvigorated, ingratiating promises of paternalistic reintegration to the hungry plebeian masses.

And I listen, transfixed that these are the people who we hold up as our finest, and perhaps they are. But they see the whole of our nation as backward, banjo-playing, bible thumping simpletons deserving of the fleecing that we have obviously been oblivious to, glazed over as we are with shiny Fair and Balanced bullshit.

Our mighty, our brightest, who in their hubris rest their full weight on the now patently precarious seams of our society's foundations, forget the lessons of Persia and Greece and Rome and Byzantium as they systemically corrode every facet of our moral, governmental and financial framework, only to cry Save Me to the people whose backs they broke in their headlong but brain short stampede towards wealth and power. Funny how they are the only ones unconcerned with the conspicuous lack of respect that typically completes that trifecta.

And the bailout is just the bread Caesar fed the Colosseum crowds as the Empire spiralled from omnipotence to oblivion.

But I am only a blue-collar liberal who will grumble as I write a $2200 check payable to the top 1% as I sit waiting for 2012.

11:37 pm - 10.01.08
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