My Turn: Gobbledygook Brook, Chapter 2
Published: 10-03-2023 3:32 PM |
Gobbledygook Brook, our preferred home for GOP presidential wannabes, was just visited by the candidates in a bloodbath of farcical prepositioning: a fruitless cause for recognition as the front-runner, while they remain solidly at the back of their own pack.
Competing to be last, you would think, is self-defeating and solely an opportunity to claim the flag of also-ran for presidential contention. Fox News winds its way dutifully around Trump, so that the contestants have each other to attack. It’s hard to garner much credibility against the Biden administration, which works conscientiously to do its job in the face of a circus whose ringmaster is out turning facts on their head and Speaker Kevin McCarthy and Co., who are playing hostage with a shutdown.
I love hilarity, it’s the antidote for pretension, as Moliere, the great French 17th-century satirist, employed masterfully in his play “Tartuffe.” You can fool a lot of people all the time. Go for the venal, hit the jugular, take no prisoners until the tally of destruction hits the source of resistance that demands accountability.
The imposter always holds his cards close and plays the fools for who they are: equally self-centered and venal wannabes, or simply untended minds twisted by mistaken ideas and identities. Who actually has our best interests at heart? The Dems need to make that a lot clearer.
For conscious people, it’s hard to sympathize with those who blindly follow. I know these folks are insulted when confronted by the realities and potential consequences of their beliefs.
Mary Farquar, my surrogate with urbane husband George, put down the book she was reading, a tell-all of life in the trenches by Michael Cohen: “Who could be closer to the abyss? When you realize that loyalty absolute was the sine qua non of White House existence, the obeisant population tripped over itself to kiss a … regardless of its personal consequences.”
“War in Ukraine and dysfunction at home,” George summed up. “At least we have the leaf season and the holidays to look forward to. Let’s do the White Mountains hike we’ve perennially put off. Or even Greylock. Ditch it all.”
“Wherever!” Mary was relentless. “The world before us may abruptly cease to function. We’ll be insulated from its effects temporarily, though reminded that nature will unsparingly reveal its gathering storms.”
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Mary continued: “Many animals now are believed to process more language cognition within their species. We know dogs don’t just bark. Bird calls become quite algorithmic. Yet half of Congress thinks there is only one true path to glory, even when dozens of them don’t actuality believe in it.”
“So, animals don’t traffic in self-deception and that’s the difference? Humans can twist facts to find food. Very primal, wouldn’t you say? Here, supposed masters of their environment mistakenly take steps that might annihilate them. So much for freedom of thought.”
“But without it,” Mary contended, “we’d be animals devoid of ambition or identity and eventually die out. Or be committed to slavery with potential for bloodthirsty rulers and apparatchiks out to corral the masses.”
“That’s precisely what we have now!” George exclaimed. “Technology turns a blind eye to its effects and then gets played as a victim by the likes of Musk and Co. That’s why we hate Jeff Bezos and his ilk or are being taught to. Capitalism is the tyrant’s tool. But we’ve been taught free market jargon. We’re the prisoner of interest rate hikes, wage growth or not, bond markets, commodities, consumer price indexes — and half the country is beholden to the blathering of an outlier with no real interest in them.”
“Fascism is being mainlined, dragged willingly from the sidelines to the 50-yard line,” Mary asserted. “The constitutionalists dressed in blue and white, with the Trumpists in red and white. Trump hasn’t made it onto the field yet, busy tweeting. The indictments have the red team screaming in circles, chaos everywhere. The cadre of 11 with the Matt and Margie Show just have to continue with their own game, acting crazy and bizarre. Down with Democracy, up with Trumpism, crowned with its new ‘ism’ intact: But the only program is Trump sliding headlong into a shamanistic fantasyland of symbolism and destruction.”
Mary looked at herself in the hall mirror. Was this really happening? Who was she?
George got up and fixed himself a vodka tonic with lime. “I’ve made up my own mind. They’ve had theirs made up for them. There’s no semblance of reasoning, it simply looks like a type of Messiah amassing crowds to simplify and amplify the confusion of a new world that explains itself very badly. Grabbing for power means mowing down obstacles. Our constitutional defenders need to employ the same ruthlessness in defense of its values. Hopefully the court cases will thwart his advance. There’s the next ballot box and that’s about it.”
Mary threw him his jacket. “Let’s get some air.”
“Yeah.”
Alan and wife Jane live in bucolic Shelburne Falls. He likes the arts and ideas world, Jane the compassionate love of healing, quilting, and spirit. Kiko the black cat — good mouser, always has an opinion.