Kneeling and Scraping

Apparently our political economy will not be satisfied till it has extracted the last shreds of dignity from its subjects. Like an alcholic promising that this is the last drink, we wake in the morning to find ourselves knocking on doors and pleading with strangers to vote for Joe Biden. After we get through this one, we'll make the big changes, yeah. Sure. We just have to stop fascism first. The slow-motion train wreck has a certain perverse, even obscene fascination of course. Why we can't take our eyes off it. Or another cinematic metaphor for liberals, our wounded democracy engaged in a sword fight on the edge of the cliff, knocked down, struggling back to its feet. Oh my! Those with the means are considering various escape options; Mexico, Canada, Portugal? Just in case our hero takes a tumble. Just cut and run, wait it out on a beach somewhere. Seek asylum and hope they are not as cruel and xenophobic as we are. I keep a photo clipped from the local paper on my wall. It shows the ecstatic college Democrats the moment the election was called for Barack Obama. Who picked Old Joe for his VP. Old Joe made sure Israel and the Saudis got all the jets and bombs they wanted. He made sure NATO kept up it's steady eastward movement. He made sure American's gas tanks remained full of cheap gas. Everything was easy, Shock and Awe, defeat the Taliban, contain Iran and China. Now we are in this moment of the most mendacious, venal farce, with the emperor's hair on fire, the whole dumpster on fire, and everyone pretending it's just a blip. An embarrassing moment to get through. "Going to a town that has already been burnt down."