I can't stop peeking through my fingers at the carnage, the aftermath, the bruised and bloodied form of our society stretched out among the shards of glass on the side of the road. We could see the collision as it unfolded because history, that repetitious asshole, has shown us what happens when you concentrate wealth, gut regulation, and poke your tax code full of holes.
Americans from sea to shining sea want to know who is going to fix this mess? Answers come from all sides. We pick and choose that which suits us. A Chinese menu of solutions.
A young man on the right toys with his drink, places his order. Um, I'll have the tax cuts with more deregulation on the side. Oh, and hold the entitlements.
There they were on the television. Angry white people sneering into microphones. Angrier white people trying to hook up with each other made up the audience. The CPAC turned C-SPAN into one hellacious hate fest. Rage against the machine that is government, liberals, elites, taxes, regulation, teleprompters, pro-abortion atheists, Democrats, welfare queens, entitlements, poor people, lovers of European-style Socialism, practitioners of Chicago-style politics, Massachusetts, New York and California, the lamestream media, Occupiers, gun control freaks, homosexuals and people who refuse to learn English. Those haters of all things America. The blame America first crowd. The apologizers and appeasers.
There was no mention of drowning government bureaucrats in bathtubs, but there were lots of references to Obama. Please do take note. Obama. Not President Obama.
Grover Norquist wants to rule the world without taxes. Sarah Palin wants to deliver real Americans from progressive evil and into the welcoming arms of free market capitalism. Her mean mouth formed sharp words with which to stab at crony capitalism. Without the slightest hint of irony, her scorn for those who would use their political positions to gain wealth was palpable. You could see it coming off her in waves.
The crowd was hungry for this kind of lovin'. Cameras flashed. I held my hand to my forehead, was I flushed? Was this the equivalent of a good mental spanking? Would this scratch my itch, my need for a little punishment for my loose morals and liberal ideology? But that's redundant, isn't it?
I closed my eyes and soaked in their fury, marinated in the blood of their Christ who railed about sex and preached the gospel of prosperity. I could smell the green ink of the dollar bill. A vision of Ronald Reagan swaddled in red, white and blue bunting came to me as I moved closer to the television. I had to see the fire in their eyes, the exact curve of their lips where the spittle of righteousness gathered, their pores a thousand points of light, I'm sure, if only we had high def.
The crowd roared its approval. I drew back to see the big picture. Sarah Palin in her perfectly-fitted red suit body surfing the crowd, the young disciples passing her, smiling and waving, over their heads. A country singer crooned over the rapturous noise "She's not just a pretty face......."