[Okay..I’ll try again, Heathcliffe, since the body-dbis is buoying like a bobber on the pool.]
Considering the past year of senate committee constipation…
I find myself pummeled-into-silence concerning politics in America. Anyone who says it’s about anything else but vile self-servitude n shuffle-to-survive n sandbox pecking order is either lying to themselves or just..plain..lying. There may be idealisms going in, there must be---gota be, ..but those go to meeting with the quellers’ gloaming not too shortly after taking office in most cases, it seems, and partisanship, rah-rah-sis-boom!-bah-humbug become the golden microphone. The TRUTH.. is in our faces. What truly does need be fixed SOON is reduced in importance to [merely] fodder for the chaff (the chaff being the political methodology, the carp hatchery, the coalition for self-gratification & profligacy & talking point punditry ad-nauseam all up in the curdled cream where the fruit flies feed).
& so, Heathcliffe, what, sir, can a people do when the shit is stacked so high that the fruit flies fly free in thin air breezes whilst the citizenry are relegated to sucking oxygen through heavy-duty McDonald’s sippin’ straws barely poked up out from the shoopa-dupe-n-poop? Really. What? I mean, if a purposeful anvil comes falling down upon your head, my head, anybody’s head, kathunk!, smashed heads, and smashed heads cannot, by order of physical law, peacefully protest or write their congressman or run for the uglier offices of state.
So herein the poop, persevering to pay the Docs, laughing when we can get a breath of fresh air and crying when we think too much, ...we wrench our souls against the dickhead tides that be while trying to make meaningful heads or tails out of the day-to-day workings of an imbalanced 21st Century existence that has gone insane for lack of common sense and basic human nobility. You wana argue politics on one of the smartest boards in cyberspace? Than argue, maestrobro. Argue your aces off. Somebody’ll join the dance. …but all I got left is modest poetic insight mired in nonsense and a fair amount of drivel…or that may actually be drool. ..Even my Lotus Bubble has holes you could drive a Mick & Brad through.
[Too much of all of it feels dangerously akin to the last paragraph of Cat’s Cradle.]
