Sunday 4 November 2018

The Unfortunate Rejection of Resistance

Regrettable as that fuzzy rubric may resound, I recall Robertson's 700 and Buchanan's culture war that scared R & D to the stations for 41 & 42 — two Ps in an oval pod after all these years still slick as sieves.

The elder rejected vision as a mere thing, which of course was cause enough to reject him in favor of the younger. The younger for his part — virtue signalling his judicious centrism to his targeted base of self-styled reasonable liberals and moderates who will always be scared of Black people who get too loud — renounced Sister Souljah for her poverty of perspective as it relates to her suggested response to her default nation's war in the 'hood.

For good measure already years into his defeat, Poppy gave his ostensibly corresponding club of ideological allies Pals in Arms what-for in deed by ceding his lifelong status as a fellow card carrier, suddenly not so proud. I can't help but wonder — in that words do matter — if their use of 'jack-booted thugs' as a sort of equal opportunistic employment of lingo normally color-coded to describe members of an alphabet agency wasn't what really stuck in his craw. They may as well 've called the feds a bunch of shiftless wiggers. What's particularly delicious, in a 'so funny it's true' kind of way, is that the guy who made the offending statement had his hands wrung by Pops just enough to squeeze an "I didn't mean all cops!" quality of apology out of him.

If they can even indirectly dictate the manner in which you reject them, resistance is futile. If the resistance means mere rejection, the kingdom of heaven promised in the Constitution is denied. At least that's what I heard. The press is not just failing to talk turkey as it relates to the racism and lying of Chief Executor Delerium Tremens. The press' job as far as I can tell has always been to fail to tell it truly regarding whoever is currently ordering the duties as executor. Oh, they'll paper cut 'em for any number of gaffes and misdeeds, but they won't confront the actual intent with which they carry out the most dastardly of them and they definitely won't question the hallowed policies that inscribe contradictory cover stories hardly true even by the collective three branches' traditional skilful slight of semantics. That is, skilful until now.

The difference in the level of the verbal arts between the most recent two White Houses could not cast greater contrast, as backers of each like to point out with no irony intended, which would seem to counter the notion that the arc of history in this case has presented a result today that is simply symptomatic of yesterday. From the perspective of the powers passed down in succession, however, it is hard to deny. The distinction between the imagery that radiated from Bo Rama and that which emanates from Delerium Tremens may seem extreme, but the logical leap between their campaigns' winning, respectively, the ad industry's most coveted marketing prize, and the un-presidential victory of a reality star is minuscule.

Even if Tuesday rids the land roundly of those going too far for the taste of the Milquetoast press — which roundly, of course, it can't and won't, but if it were to — the offending folk aren't going anywhere because there's no one of significance who'll repudiate with consequence the stuff that keeps making their nation great (not "the nation I know would..." but the actual nation), lay waste as they may to all the tiniest of the million points of lies that grow off the stool of state. The stool still stands. Or sits. Or lies.

But I can't blame anyone for double dosing on pain pills. I used to do that myself and regularly, as the headaches were hard to endure. Though I suspect my overall health is not the better for it.