But He Was a Quiet Man; Who Knew He Was Psychotic?  

sfvppl818 50M/50F
486 posts
4/26/2006 6:09 pm

Last Read:
4/26/2006 6:56 pm

But He Was a Quiet Man; Who Knew He Was Psychotic?

Dubya shifts to his feet and reaches out for a handshake that is not returned. "Nope, Sonny Boy. I'm leaving - and I think you need to dedicate a little more time to consider the possibilities. Just make sure that your polls don't take a turn for the worse."

Alas, total castration at the highest point of the curve ... a scene like this could go on for hours, and it gets replayed day after day in the world of organized politics. Rewards and threats are all part of the gameplan, and it becomes easier to orchestrate once the bright shining glare of election season subsides. All the smiling never leads to laughter and an appreciation for the subtle details is better left to the high-stakes strategists and high-visibility spokesmen of their time, who develop messages and tactics to lead opinion during the most intense public debates of the new Congressional session. Theirs is a gig too deadly serious and expensive for the less inclined - and the political leader, just like his master motivator, is not too different from a crackhead interrogating the emptying streets for spare change along with washers and subway tokens substituting for spare change.

The payoff is extremely high in both unhinged worlds, for those who are into the chaotic parade - but anyone who has ever been cornered by an angry yet preoccupied junkie with a vibrant sob story to share will tell you that it's a fear of the unknown that motivates the sudden reach into your pocket for a quick donation to the cause.

Politics - as Dubya knows it - is really no different. There is nothing but extreme highs and terrible lows when dealing in the total involvement of any rapid-response public policy debate - especially when you're keeping score on so many fronts that you begin to feel more like a wiseguy sharking money to degenerate gamblers than Leader of the Less-than-Normal gangbang, that the rest of the world sees as America, The Shameful.

As far as we can tell now, there is no point in kidding ourselves about what Dubya and his cronies truly want for America in the New Century. When he glares out the window of his spacious Oval Office and sees the greater Washington power structure converging at his feet, he doesn't imagine "legislators" or "honorable public servants," he sees "price tags" and "marks that can be bought" like cheap, toothless hookers in Atlantic City. Little systematic parasites that are all there to serve his every whim and his personal firesale of the American Dream, and he's prepared to drive a wooden stake in the heart of the Great and Stoic Democracy which put him in that very place where he stands today.

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