Decline and Fall- A Blogger's Tale- part the first

 The autumn of 2012. Heady days for those of us addicted to politics. Karl Rove and Dick Morris were guaranteeing victory for their champion; the Billionaire Boob Club was pouring in cash; and your correspondent was in the middle of it all. How can I describe the constant whirlwind of visits to all of my most important and reliable think tanks and research institutions, day after day, from happy hour to last call, for months on end? And how can I get across the horror of finding myself in a government detention facility where I was required to complete a certain number of 'steps' before I could regain my freedom?
 Yes, heady days. Much of that time remains a blur, my memories fuzzy- probably from government mind control devices- but some images remain.
 I recall the man who, on the strength of Gingrich's primary victories and promises to put poor children to work, was about to launch a line of janitorial wear for grade-schoolers. He even planned a kid-sized equipment line: Mops for Tots. There was the man who 'just knew' that Herman Cain would win the election and feed the poor with pizza. He invested everything he had in mozzarella futures.
 Where are they now, those patriotic, hopeful, optimistic, idiots?
 I cannot say. I can only tell you what happened to me.

 On Halloween day 2012, I was in Sarasota Florida covering a speech by the Vice President, who had appeared in character, if not in costume. I spent that night writing my blog at a local think tank decorated like a tiki hut, overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. I approached the bar for another drink, intending to try to get something without a little umbrella in the glass. I noticed a down-in-the-dumps looking guy, wearing a slightly seedy suit and a forlorn expression. He looked like he really needed someone to talk to, so I headed for the other end of the bar. Unfortunately, he looked up and spoke to me as I passed.
 "Sir, you strike me as a perspicacious and sympathetic soul."
 Well, he was half right. I was about to correct him on the sympathetic part, when he instantly endeared himself to me with that much beloved and universal gesture of peace and brotherhood that signalled that he was buying. I naturally sat down next to my new-found friend, who ordered something that was served in a coconut shell and with, of course, a paper umbrella. The drink was sweet and cool and went down smoothly, unlike the conversation, which dragged until I began to pay attention.
 "You just can't run freak-shows anymore," he was saying. I thought, at first, that he was referring to Republican politics. The election was only days away, after all. But no. He was talking circuses. "My great-grandfather was a talent scout for ol' P.T. Barnum himself," he said.
  "He could go into a small town bar, buy a few rounds for the locals, and the next thing you know, he had the address of another bearded lady or alligator man." While he was talking, I managed to get the barkeep to bring over a pitcher of beer, without umbrellas, so I could concentrate on his story. "Great- grandpa eventually realized he could do better going solo and started his own sideshow. My grandfather and then my father carried on the tradition into the early seventies, when sideshows became impossible to run," he said sadly.
  "Because of political correctness and civil rights?" I asked.
  He shook his head. "Plastic surgery and electrolysis."
  He ordered a shot of whiskey and downed it fast. "We went bankrupt. I had to drop out of college. I bummed around for years and eventually ended up in the merchant marine."
  It seems, though, that all was not lost. "We had to overhaul an engine in Australia. I was stuck in Sydney for two weeks. One night I found the answer to my prayers in a little pub."
   I started to tell that him lots of people find their prayers answered in pubs, but he interrupted me.
"Dwarf tossing," was all he said.
  He was getting animated now. It seemed that the Aussie penchant for aerial homunculi might restore his family's fortune. "I knew that the idea would fly over here. My family not only had the showmanship, but my maternal grandfather had done all the PR for the Munchkins. I knew every little person in Hollywood, and they never had enough work." My new friend quickly secured the rights from the local promoter and headed home.
  "We built up a dozen or so circuits that hit every redneck and biker bar in the country. I was making money hand over fist until it all fell apart again."
  "Because of injuries and liabilities?" I asked.
  He shook his head. "Political correctness and civil rights."
  Apparently protests had sprung up almost from the beginning. "That's why we held the events at biker and redneck bars. They were sort of self policing, if you know what I mean." Eventually, though, the tide of public opinion caught up with dwarf tossing. "States started passing laws against us. As rich as I was, I wasn't rich enough to afford a lobbyist of my own, and we finally got shut down."
  In the face of this dreadful, heartbreaking tale of sorrow and woe, I almost felt guilty as I gestured toward the empty pitcher. After a refill, he finished his story.
  "I found a sympathetic politician in Florida who tried to get the law changed, to no avail. But I feel a lot of sympathy here, and I think that if Romney wins we can start over again." I have to admit my admiration for this man was growing with every drink I swallowed. Not only was he not giving up, but his reading of the political 'tea leaves' was right on the money. "The Republicans haven't got any kind of jobs plan, and I'm the kind of small businessman they admire. We'll employ lots of people and kick those bleeding heart PC liberals in the ass. It can't fail. I was even able to pick up a warehouse full of tiny janitor uniforms for a song." He was very excited now. "The only problem is that I've used up most of my working capital, and..." he looked at me meaningfully.
  Now I realized everything. I saw through it as easily as I could see through the vodka in my shot glass. My new-found friend needed an angel. Here was my chance to get in on an amazing business opportunity. Without another word, I whipped out my checkbook and emptied the account on what could only be described as a 'Sure Thing.'
  As hung over as I was on the flight back to New York, I still had to smile at my great luck. All the stars were now lined up for me: politically, economically and, most importantly, bachiccally (my friend had given me a case of single malt scotch to seal our partnership.)
  On election night I watched my favorite conservative network, and sipped scotch, with the confidence that my fortune was tied to President Romney's. As the returns came in, I realized that the electoral victory promised by the conservative media was not to be. Both the election and my fortune were wiped out.
  Of the debacle and disaster of the wee hours of that night, where I lost everything, I will say only this: I was apprehended at the Fox News studios where I tried to see how far up Karl Rove's ass I could shove a tot-mop.
  The story of my subsequent arrest and internment must await another day. Since my downfall I've had to rely on my local library's computers. And, if the impatient kid who keeps poking me is correct, my time at this terminal is up.

A Note to Readers

Even though no one has posted any queries, I know that you, my loyal followers, have been wondering at my long absence from this space. My readers are nothing if not discreet. (Except, perhaps, imaginary.)

Suffice it to say, my friends, there is a long and and wonderfully interesting story in this, as in all aspects of my life. Unfortunately, time does not now permit me to tell it. Rest assured that I will fill in all the juicy details in the coming days.

Quote Of The Post

"It is no limitation upon property rights or freedom of contract to require that when men receive from government the privilege of doing business under corporate form... they shall do so upon absolutely truthful representations.... Great corporations exist only because they are created and safeguarded by our institutions; and it is therefore our right and duty to see that they work in harmony with these institutions."

Theodore Roosevelt from his first Message to Congress, December 3, 1901. Quoted in Theodore Rex Edmund Morris p73

Teddy fired the first gun in the fight against corporate power in government and the economy. He put teeth into the Sherman Anti Trust Act of 1890, and developed the principles upon which the battles would be fought.

The 'institutions' to which he referred are the government, as well as the society and civilization at large. These are also the roads and bridges and schools and hospitals that President Obama rightly reminds businessmen they didn't build.

Mutually Assured Economics

Democrats seem to think that because Mitt Romney can't stand up to the extremists and fools among his supporters, he won't be able to stand up to other nations when he becomes president. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth. Romney can't stand up to the wing-nuts because he needs them- not because he is weak.

As for foreign nations like China, Mitt has a cunning plan. If those inscrutable orientals act up on him, Mitt Romney will withdraw all his foreign investments and outsourced jobs, destroying their economies the same way he'll be destroying ours.

Quote(s) Of The Post

"We attacked a foreign people and treated them like rebels. As you know, it's all right to treat barbarians barbarically. It's the desire to be barbaric that makes governments call their enemies barbarians."
Bertold Brecht from the Good Reads. com website. No attribution of the source material was given. The two following quotes from the same site prove why this annoys me so much.

"Art is not a mirror. Art is a hammer."
Brecht

"Art is not a mirror held up to life, but a hammer with which to shape it."
Brecht again. Both from Good Reads. com

I think you can see my point. Both quotes are similar, but the latter has more muscle. Did he say them both, or did someone paraphrase the first one? I sure as hell don't know, but now I really want to read him.

The next quote came from one site, but two other sites also quoted it. All three were slightly different, which is understandable in translated work. I'd still like to know where it came from. Perhaps my loyal readers, if I have any, can help out.

"The worst illiterate is the political illiterate. He hears nothing, sees nothing, takes no part in political life. He doesn't seem to know that the cost of living, the price of beans, of flour, of rent, of medicines, all depend on political decisions. He even prides himself on his political ignorance, sticks out his chest and says he hates politics. He doesn't know, the imbecile, that from his political non-participation comes the prostitute, the abandoned child, the robber and, worst of all, corrupt officials, the lackeys of exploitative multinational corporations."
Bertold Brecht: From the MoveOn.org website. I encourage you to read the other versions of this quote. I would love to know if it is from a play, book, letter or something.

I promise you that most of the posted quotations are from my reading. I also promise to never use the word 'quote' so many times in one post.

Quote Of The Post

"....But I don't want to see the Republican Party ride to political victory on the four horsemen of calumny- fear, ignorance, bigotry and smear."

Sen. Margaret Chase Smith Declaration of Conscience 6/1/50, quoted in: "National Suicide" History Matters
historymatters.gmu.edu/d/6459/

A Rose By Any Other Name...

A Political Q&A

Q:The biggest problem facing the Republicans in November?

A:Their candidates.

Q:Their second biggest?

A:They don't even know who they're running against.

Q:Can you explain?

A:Yes.

Mitt Romney and other conservatives seem to think that they are being opposed by the Democrat Party. They even seem to think that the president belongs to this party.

As far as I am able to determine- there's no such thing as the Democrat Party. I don't know where they got it from, but it doesn't exist.

Can it be a simple case of failing to understand that Democrats belong to the Democratic Party? It's easy to imagine that some top Republicans lack the intellect to make the distinction (I'm talking to you Sarah) But Mitt has two degrees from Harvard. He should know better.

It can't be intentional, can it?

It can't be because the word itself bothers them, can it?

Democratic.

Who could be afraid of that?