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Welcome to the National Security State, the global arbiter of perpetual war, police state tactics and the militarization of society on all levels. It's a place where the state religion hawks Jesus wearing an Uncle Sam hat, driving a gas guzzling Humvee with little plastic flags attached to the door and a gay couple, recently married in the People's Republic Taxechusettes, dragged behind in chains that are attached to the yellow ribbon emblazoned rear bumper.
The National Meal is a fat laden, high calorie, low nutrition blob of dead, imported cow flesh, made possible courtesy of the patent protected products of Big Pharma and the destruction of the Amazon River Basin. Just the thing to feed the teaming masses of bloated and lethargic teenagers who have not yet found their proper place in the ranks of cannon fodder slated to fight future "preemptive" wars for their Neocon masters.
The National Anthem is an overblown ode to teenage sexualization and wretched excess, visualized by bright colors, wiggling flesh and flashy montages. It's a really catchy tune that's proud and swaggering, as it espouses the inferiority of older and more developed cultures that have done nothing more than to be the receded and ancient roots to our own bright and shining tree.
The National Pastime is electronically manipulated violence, brought to you courtesy of the computer gaming technicians of the United States Army, their cousins, the overworked and underpaid wizards of Silicon Valley and the monied patrons of Hollywood special FX technicians. The prerequisite for this orgiastic ballet of mayhem is that it's brought to you without context or consequence and that the display of gore is as cartoonish as humanly possible and devoid of any resemblance to the poison of stomach churning reality.
The dollar is a shiny new sedan that the drives directly from Wall Street to party at the Pentagon. Fact is mutated so much by the mainstream media, that by the time it becomes "information that you can use", it's devoid of the truth. Propaganda is the mantra of government and its supplicants are paid handsomely with the current coin of the realm: access to the throne and filthy, taxpayer supported lucre. Whores are dressed up and propped up to cry foul against their masters' enemies and when they're discovered, the collared lapdogs of the honored press are given a tug of the leash and told to heel. Only the untagged watchdogs of the blogasphere are free to bark loudly and intently at such a shameful display of hypocrisy decorated in almost comic proportions. Unfortunately, that's when we all hear cries from the peanut gallery to have them licensed.
True citizens are not Black, Asian, Latino, immigrant, Native American, gay, old, overweight, poor, Muslim, Jewish, Northern, Eastern, Western, Catholic, French speaking, Spanish speaking, Bush questioning, anti-war, pro-peace, diplomatic, pro independent press, intelligent, remorseful, sympathetic, non-violent, tolerant or thinking. In this new post 9-11 age, we are all one and we react... violently. Oh, yeah and we let loose with both barrels in the direction that our fearless, all-hatted, no-cattled, twang-laden master of the malapropism tells us to. Get behind him, boys and girls. Just as any true Amur-i-can should.
Despite a non-stop onslaught of lies, at a pace and substance never before shoveled at us by a sitting president, the masses remain stuck like flies on flypaper to the backside of that man that has the distinction of being the most unqualified ever to be the top-dog for all of so-called western civilization. Well maybe or maybe not, depending on how warped your point of view is. The litmus test for this is to listen to those who excuse his every bungle as quaint and homespun and who would call his every stumble a nifty jig. But what you see as the rabid defense of that cartoon of a man called George W. Bush, is really but a sick reminder that as a country we have some serious mental issues to deal with. We're addicted to this sickness, this fantasy land of flag waving lies and fears of turban decorated boogie men lurking behind grandma's closet door with a baseball bat, ready to take her life savings hidden in the mattress. It's not to say that the entire country is off its rocker. All one has to do is witness the largest outpourings of righteous outrage against the acts and policies of madmen and the atrocities of our tow headed sons and daughters that were sent into the bloodied field of battle on a stream of never ending lies and convenient excuses. That, my friends, is a validation that some of us still have some sense.
At least half the country has bought a precious clue instead of spending the grocery money on the tasty and addictive kool-aid of our Alien Lizard Masters that run rampant through the hallowed halls of government. I'll tell you what Bush truly is, he's a symptom of our times. His fraud tinged ascension is the culmination of a generation of empire building, of political polarization, of social arrogance, of cultural disdain, of validation of violence, of disregard of the intelligentsia and of militarization of the populace on all levels. Not all of us have bought into this diseased spiral of logic, but the spin cycle is taking us all down with it just the same.
We're priming ourselves for a collapse of the highest order. We've replaced the pillars of our democracy with a hollow framework of political capital grubbing. Our society has replaced the need to promote the general welfare with the need to promote generals that are ordered to see to the welfare of the spear. Keep it nice and shiny, boys. You never know who we have to stick it to the next time, but stick it you will. Nothing is more important than that spear, we're told. The spear is the end all and be all. Where ever the spear goes, it goes to do no wrong. The pointer of the spear, guided by the all-mighty hand of God himself stands tall and the rubes feel a little tighter in their jeans... that's the swelling of pride by the way. And no dirty, unpatriotic peacenik is going to take it way from them. It's what we live for as a beacon of freedom, right? Brook all sacrifices and lay our children on the altar of war, telling the nay-sayers that they have no rights, other than to follow their own twisted example.
Don't pay any attention to that crumbling sound, Lee Greenwood is singing.
Despite the worst of our sad natures coming to bite us all in the ass at this late date, there is an alternative. It's called sanity. At some point, a significant number of people are going to end up facing a brick wall and wonder how they got there after being guided to the land of milk and honey by their favorite son, the knuckle-head in chief. I'm not talking about the dyed in the marrow true believers. I'm only talking about the merely misguided. The ones who'll wake up and step slowly away from the kool-aid bowl. Be they in one political party or the other, they have but no other choice but to realize that they've been sold a bill of rancid goods. That's the weakness of Bush, his house is built on lies and has a limited shelf life. The mere fact that he was handed, on a silver platter, the very staff of incompetent yes men he begged for all but assures his very downfall. When most people realize that they've been had, they start changing their ways.
Although, those who actually opposed him did all that they could to stop his mad race to the land of fascism, little do they know that Bush himself will do their job for them. The seeds to Bush's collapse lies in his own stubbornness, or his hubris if you will, as well as his convoluted strategy to engage the support of two diametrically opposed camps; the freewheeling ruling business class and the sociologically repressed evangelical proles. Both sides are asking for their piece of the action now and expect to be rewarded for their fealty to the King. Somebody, however, is going to be sorely disappointed in the end.
His plans of conquest will yield more bitter fruit, harvested by the bloodied victims of our bombs, the dead or disillusioned returning troops, their outraged mothers and those young and old souls brave enough to stand in the streets to scream bloody murder. That's where the battles will be fought. Expect lots of blood, people. In all of this melee, the biggest failures will occur. Failures so ugly, that they will do nothing less than tear at the very heart of our society. There will be wars abroad and wars at home over the wars abroad. Now at this point, Bush's very nature to never admit guilt or own up to his own responsibilities, the encirclement of his loyal yet unscrupulous followers and a rampant rash of fact spills will set the stage for creating the biggest series of Washington scandals since Tricky Dick's sweaty upper lip held me in rapt attention in front of my teevee set. When the blood is in the water, don't expect a willing phalanx of media whores to cover his ass, because they're going to find themselves whipped into shape by the prospect of being repeatedly beaten to the punch by the vociferous ranks of bloodthirsty blogophiles.
It's going to be ugly and heads will roll. But in the end, it's going to be ugly enough for those who have stopped drinking the kool-aid to realize their predicament. These few, if grabbed and brought into the side of a viable and organized left will form the margin needed to make the change from our current insanity back to some semblance of respectability. It's going the be a hard fall for all of us, yet the left needs to figure out how the be a soft cushion. It's just a start, and there will be tons of important work to be done afterwards. But without us taking these refugees from insanity close to our collective bosoms and making them our allies, there is no way we can create that much needed slender margin of victory that will empower us to revert this country from the United States of War back to the United States of America.
The time to prepare is now.
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