Wednesday, February 06, 2008

No exit

By Capt. Fogg

So what the hell does all this mean? Maybe Super Tuesday is just another Super Bowl with less substance behind the selection of loyalties. I couldn't watch either one actually; only enough of CNN's election coverage to make me retreat to the bowels of my DVR for something recorded and saved for an evening like that.

It wasn't the results; they were as expected. It was the exit poll interviews where respectable blue haired ladies, stewed for a lifetime in small minded stupidity, told us why they always vote for true Republicans like Romney. It was the weathered old veteran of too many shit-faced Friday nights at the VFW hall who is solidly behind McCain because they're both "retired military." It was Mike Huckabee with his homespun homilies and selected Biblical references and the horrifying idea that anyone stupid enough to support him is allowed to roam the streets unsupervised. It is the glaring evidence that the United States of America is simply too superstitious, too uninformed, too deluded and most of all; too damned stupid to be trusted with important decisions.

Is it that Karma is more than wishful thinking and that Democracy in America withers like an unwatered plant because we've stifled so many movements, supported so many tyrants, sent men to smash elected governments, murdered elected leaders and starved populations abroad while eating ice cream in starched Sunday clothes, singing hymns to our own greatness?

Perhaps the appearance of any remaining viability to the Republican party and its dimwitted dogmas and captious rhetoric is supported only by the corporate media's "fair and balanced" game. Maybe the Democrats will win every election outside of the Confederacy, but maybe too I'll just stop caring. Maybe I'm too old to believe that anything matters. Maybe I'm right about the utter futility of human endeavor and the meaninglessness of existence and maybe I should just forget about it all and while away my remaining years walking on the beach and collecting shells; watching Mayberry reruns of an evening and relaxing by the pool while it all goes to hell.

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

(Cross-posted from Human Voices.)

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