Giant, putrid septic tank just overflowed in Washington.

Been smelling it for months now, even way up here in Vermont. Something rotted in Washington and we need a cleanup crew in there....pronto.
I`m not talking Swat Teams or Hazmat suits or even a herd of Official Inspectors. I mean the kind of old fashioned team that can fix a problem without appointing a commission to study the commission. A team that can identify glaring problems and implement necessary remedies without worrying about offending the person writing the cocktail party invitations. Maybe the kind of crew that wouldn`t put air in their tires because they saw anti-freeze leaking under their trucks.

People with even a hint of sense should be seething at what passes for representative government right about now. That pathetic mess in Washington needs to be grabbed by the shoulders and told in no uncertain terms that the party is O-V-E-R. No more cruise ships. No more room service. No more Renaissance Weekends. No more guaranteed reelections.

Somehow Jack Abramoff`s top hat and a Sago Mine widow`s kleenex merged in my mind today. I felt sickened. I didn`t want to salute the flag. Didn`t want to sing God Bless America. Didn`t want to vote even though I haven`t missed an election since the 60`s. I started crying. Was it the boarded-up steel mills? The vanishing Made in the U.S.A. labels? Memories of a Frank Luntz focus group? The pile of bent-in-half, folded up Washington Democrats? The last prison execution? Was it Cheney`s speech today or maybe his blood-drenched snarl? Was it the crew in the Pentagon trying to write new money-saving PTSD rules? My latest fuel bill? The frustrated senior citizens lined up at Harry`s Pharmacy on my local news? Was it New Orleans? Scotty`s mind-numbing talking points? Bombs going off in Iraq? Was it fingernails-on-a-blackboard Bush?

It is so past time for a serious hell-raising. I don`t know exactly what we`ve become in this country, but it ain`t pretty.

The plumber from the movie Brazil.

a return of the white house plumbers, anyway.

buckle yer seatbelt, my friend. the roller coaster is pulling out of the station.
but have faith.

it's daylight in amurika.

for real, tho, people are waking up.

whalerider

have to deal with, and they/we just keep taking it. :-(

march down to Washington with a bag full of our shit and place at the steps. Maybe then they would get a clue.