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There's that certain few out there, no matter how screwy it all really gets, seemingly under the spell of Rush Limbaugh's pied-piping three hour daily dose of anger, who on every full moon since the election howl so-o-o-o-cialism, about as mournfully as it gets, over Barack Obama's victory. They just don't seem to be able to make the connection, do they, where we've wound up?
Suffice it to say we've gone hard aground at a place folks born after World War II have never quite seen before, manifesting itself in one big spooky crisis of confidence after Rock of Gibraltar-type financial institutions have so distorted the marketplace, having pushed the housing market, with oodles upon oodles of encouragement by the ever flimflamming Bush administration, completely off the charts into la-la land -- far beyond sight of any semblance of the fundamental accounting equation anywhere to be found functioning.
Hail, hail -- any balance out there, anyone, anywhere?
By all soundings we've been allowed to drift on the far side of the archetypal forlorn fog horn into the far-far side of somewhere really far out like the Bermuda triangle, where those Rock of Gibraltar-type financial institutions, more often than not, are found aloft floating on -- on what? Why these days, that's a bit more than a million dollar question. The vacuum energy, here, with trillions of dollars bouncing in and out of existence, with today's fiber optics, at or near the speed of light is beyond most of us measly mortals' ability to bring expression to, other than through the stock words of holy mackerel.
And that doesn't begin to describe where we are. Where we are, I believe, is how things wind up when the standard bearer of the world mistakes license for liberty.
Poor George, rather, poorhouse us, financially and spiritually; we are in a mortal struggle, now, for re-establishing our credibility.
Someone tell me, looking around, honestly, just how many more Christopher Cox types as head of the Security Exchange Commission who thought it was his job, with a wink and a nod, by the Bernie Madoffs of the world, to look the other way, or, for that matter, the Michael Mukasey types, as attorney general, who dither over what water boarding is in the face of mounds upon mounds of case law, could our poor country sustain, before completely falling on our lips?
Anyway, I'd like to thank Frank Vondersaar for having the presence of mind and guts for describing the modus operandi of the Reckpublic-cons. The harshness of reality is sometimes what it takes to wake us up. I'd also like to really thank the good folks of Iowa for their salt of the earth sense of balance and decency, for helping, back in the primaries, to set the stage for an American Renaissance. Thank you, Heartland. Thank you, Lord, with still blessing us with such folk.
Tim O'Leary is a longtime Homer resident and observer of the political scene.
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