All I have to say about the sucker who resigned from Goldman upon discovering that its staff was not composed of peaceful ascetics whose days were spent in quiet meditation and mindful contemplation of the blooming lotus is that he's got a clear future career on the Absolut Swedish Explosive Guilt Commission, wherein he can pass all the rest of the years of his life handing out Peace Prizes to just-elected heads of state who immediately chopper in to proclaim that they come not to bring peace unto earth, but the sword.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Somehow MJS and I find ourselves receiving the same signals in our fillings; it's a good thing he's notagay; I suspect we'd make the most insufferable couple on earth. Sanity Clause aside, though, I as yet hold out a halfbarrel of hope that the Oh, Brother administration will have to pack itself off to the Davos-and-Doctoral-Candidate circuit; the American people, in their infinite underabundance of book learnin, have seen fit to blame the Pump Attendant-in-Chief for the rise in gas prices, which is delightfully, poetically unfair. Obama can no more control the price of unleaded than can the lank-haired Juggalo slinging smokes from behind the safety glass down at the Sunoco--were he to be turned out of office on account of that, we would be assured of a glorious decade of retrospective liberal angoisse; just the other day, a liberal of my acquaintance was nattering on about how Jiminy Carter never once uttered the world malaise; couldn't even spell it!--which is how I know for a fact that this is true. Of course, I see no prospect for Archevêque Saint-Orum to beat the Mormon Tabernacle (I don't really know what a tabernacle is, but I suspect that one looks like Mitt in profile). Which is a shame. Because insofar as I am able to discern any difference between Obama and Mitt, it's that Mitt's kids appear to be male. Santorum is obviously NOT the money candidate, but wouldn't it be great to see him flail around madly, trying to institute his Handmaid's Tale candyland? Considering that the guy couldn't even beat Bob Casey, well, it promises to remain in the realm of science fiction.
A part of Glenn's point is well-taken; it is crazier, in a philosophical, categorical sense, to believe that the President is some kind of absolute monarch with the power to launch wars of conquest and assassinate his own citizens and so on, but down here in the phenomenal world in which objects and actions must be judged, alas, by their actual attributes alone, the Gulfstream Media is factually and, uh, actually correct: wherefore there ain't never gonna be a motherfucking Department of Peace, therefore Dennis Kucinich wuz nuts. Sanity and insanity aren't really absolute values, are they? I mean, they're positional; they stand relative to the times in which they are uttered in judgment. Or, like, dude: the human condition is insanity, and sanity consists simply of those insane sentiments which, because they are sufficiently widely shared, appear normal. I don't know; point is: all the things that Glenn says are crazy, the wars and killings and endless so-called failed policies, are not crazy because they are so goddamned real; they have all been prestodigitated by thousands of years of state-backed, taxpayer-funded avarice from sick delusion into total normalcy. What's crazy is thinking you can unscramble those eggs and put that BOOM back into the stick of dynamite.
For one, enacting legislation is not the only way to have an important impact on our political culture. Shining light on otherwise-ignored issues, advocating rarely-heard political positions, using one’s platform to highlight the corruption of those in power and to challenge their warped belief systems are all vitally important functions. Advocacy of that sort may not produce immediate, tangible successes, but it is a prerequisite for changing prevailing political mores and persuading citizens to think differently.I have a hypothesis that the word citizen is, for many minds, a safety word; what was whipping along at a fine pace comes to a swift and sudden halt, lest it do any actual damage. Is this what Dennis Kucinich was doing? See, here, well, um, I have long been under the impression that what Dennis Kucinich was doing was providing a reliably quote-unquote liberal outlier, a lonely tentpole on the far, far side of the bombing range where the Democratic party pitches its big tent, around which the sort of folks who overpay for yoga instruction and carry their own bags to the grocery store could crowd, having convinced themselves that its slender shadow is the shade. A few paces to its left is a single, well-occupied dining room chair, upon which rest all of Ron Paul's supporters; it's their seat at the table, get it? Look, people within institutions serve institutional functions, whether the like it or not, whether they know it or not. Does Dennis Kucinich help you to continue to believe that you are an, oh, god, citizen? That by speaking out you are "changing prevailing political mores"? Maybe all isn't lost . . . maybe . . . maybe I ought to continue to participate . . . it may not produce any immediate, tangible successes, but, given time . . . attitudes change . . . people change . . .
And this is how you end up reliably offering your consent to one or other gang of murdering psychopaths. So who's crazy, here, the murdering psychopaths, or the fella who keeps handing them the keys to the gun cabinet? The old saw about the real definition of insanity is the truth: it consists of the endless repetition of the same action with the expectation of a different result. If the Democratic party can contain a Kucinich, it must be less evil than the evil rethuglican menace, right? If the Republicans have a Ron Paul, they must be at least somewhat, marginally more committed to some kind of reasonable limits on the reach and scope of the federal government, right? No, wrong, wrong! If a fucking candy bar contains real coconut, that does not make it a fruit; if you fruits drink enough Miller Ultra Lite, you will still get fat.