Saturday, December 29, 2018

parades

Having a parade today. Humans can't get enough parades. It is not the opposable thumb but man's ability to watch a thousand parades, each as if it were the first, that marks his distinction from the lower life forms. Witness the faith exhibited as people gather early, to be assured of a quality spot on the curb. Always these congregations are rewarded with a parade. If the parade comes only because they are there, I do not know. I do know when they do not congregate there is no parade.

Sometimes lower animals are in parades but their friends don't watch them. One would imagine their fellows proud that some of their species have advanced to a human parade. Perhaps they aren't smart enough to watch a parade. Yes, that must be it.

Sometimes the parade ends and people go home. So do the horses and dogs. There's no more parade.



Friday, December 28, 2018

different strokes






Many of us have embraced in varying degrees the urban myth that the colossally moneyed find tedious their easy, vacuous, jobless lives; that they recline in some lovely setting or another envying the irresponsible workers our pathetic challenges, petty bickering, regularly renewed fight for solvency, our microscopic victories and perhaps most of all, yes, our Budweiser. It was a nice delusion and Donald Trump has left us without it. Per our intimate exposure to the new transparent president, we have been invited to view unadorned the social gulf between rabble and rich and contemplate how small might be the common ground.
To folks never burdened with a regular job, the idea of TGIF, the actual wishing away of 5/7 of life would be appalling. I now believe most of the 'One percent” never heard the saying and wouldn't quite get it if they did. In fact they probably have little use for the names of days, the very units that count down workers' lives. Those barons who can figure out what TGIF means cannot possibly look upon beings who live that way with any feeling of equanimity. Only pity and exaltation.
Our great literature is not the literature of the mighty. They may as well read tales of some alien life form as try to comprehend Steinbeck. They know nothing of the Grapes of Wrath unless force fed them by their parents to show them how lucky they are not to be Okies. And then the strong character of the Joad family would just seem pointless in its lack of upward mobility. Perhaps they read such as The Great Gatsby and Anna Karenina. The President on-the-air encouraged radio host Howard Stern to refer to his daughter as “a piece of ass”, a face-punching slur to most lower class fathers. That made me wonder if the rich don't respect or care for their children as do the commoners. Strip the rabble of their children and little remains. Without children the rich still are rich, admired and plenty important to many people. In their overall scheme, they invest relatively little of themselves in their progeny.
The luxuriantly leisured don't watch tv dramas and sitcoms. Tv shows feature middle class Americans because viewers like to watch people they relate to. No sequel to the Honeymooners is airing, not because people like the Kramdens don't watch tv but because they don't buy enough stuff to attract sponsors. The impossibly well-healed don't watch because there are no shows featuring their ilk except maybe Downton Abbey. How can they get involved in the lives of humans calamitously mired in the abyss, pawns not players, bills their only demon, a trouble-free life for their families their lone, frail hope. Such a boring goal to one born into it.
As Donald Trump showed us with his ignorance of how to check out at the, how do we say? Cash register, the wildly wealthy don't attend the grocery store anymore than the ranch owner goes outside and slurps with the cows. That's our feeding trough. Apparently they match our ignorance of their lives with their ignorance of ours. At least they're benevolent gods.


Thursday, December 20, 2018

notes on a common malady

It's full-blown now – the new bigotry I predicted. Hilary Clinton made it official by labeling us “deplorables.” By “us” I mean we must stand with the oppressed. When the KKK comes to town we all should be black, where there are Nazis we must be Jews as the Danes did and yes, when U.S. citizens scorn those who exercised their right to vote for Donald Trump, we all must be Trump supporters. Anything else is cowardly, remaining safe in our cocoon of acceptance. Revilers of the president must join hands with his fans because people choosing a candidate is not the problem. The Democratic National Conjob with its Stupor-Delegates, and the complicit information outlets which derailed Bernie Sanders is the problem. 

It's time to admit we're in this together, that we're all earthlings subject to the same crappy whims of government. Freedom – that would be a nice form of government but we got Democracy instead. Freedom actually is free. Democracy ain't. When did Americans forget that it's us against the man? The man being anyone sitting back in the lap of luxury on our five-day work week. Our values rarely mesh with those of the wealthy because, unlike us, they have actual value. Values is a consolation prize we get for staying at the bottom of the pyramid. The chronically wealthy have little use for values as Donald Trump has candidly demonstrated to us, let the cat out of the bag so to speak.
There they are – isolated and exposed. What greater strength than to identify the true culprits and get to the heart of the matter instead of the red herring; find the one who stands there smugly tormenting you in your last moments of life. Gouge the matador, not the cape.

Soon Trump will be gone; but Trump supporters will walk among us for decades as people who supported him and thereby earned our scorn and mistrust. They can leave it behind but they can no more alter that stain than a person can change color. Lacking outward clues, your 2016 election choice may become a standard question on job applications. Affirmative action may have to be afforded these Americans.

Or not. What say we wise up? Twig the game. Refuse the bait. Stick together. Stick it to the man.

Saturday, December 15, 2018

If freedom isn't free, then why is it called freedom?

Monday, December 10, 2018

The abalone of doom is in the room.  Quick - the broom!