There’s an axiom that “old Soldiers just fade away.” Wouldn’t it be great if there was such an adage for politicians? Yes, politicians – the people many of whom only lie when their lips are moving. It really gets old hearing from or about Clintons, Bushes, and the newest generation of Kennedys who continues the family business of politics. In the United States of America, we do not need a ruling class or an aristocracy. Our country was founded on the principle that the government should be of, by and for the people. Not of and by and for the rich and famous, corrupt and connected. Somewhere along the way, the by the people principle was derailed by crooks and scoundrels. I do not know a politician I can wholly trust. All of them calculate the political ramifications of every move or spoken word. As someone recently pointed out to me, it is really hard to figure out who is telling the truth. My assessment, none of them wholly.
Most all of them seem beholden to handlers and their handlers are not us – the people that put them into office. The people they’re sworn to serve. They are only able to accept problem solutions benefitting their handlers thus ensuring their money stream. Have you seen anything coming from Sodom on the Potomac in recent memory that was done purely for you and me – forgotten middle America? We the people who bear the burden of never ending political chicanery. There’s plenty reason we are called the forgotten. We are only needed to fill the ranks, the foxholes, the cop cars and fire trucks. Beyond that, we are expected shut up, be happy and allow Sodom to see to our every need – as long as we keep giving them our money, which of course they know better how to use than we do, and our votes. With voter fraud, uncontrolled illegal immigration, and no federal voter ID law soon enough they won’t need our votes. In the vernacular of the time, we’ll be just another shithole. No need to worry. Everything is in such great shape.
Nowadays every single thing is driven by politics. They’ve infiltrated every facet of Americana. We tune in the sports channel and are treated to some two-bit sports caster’s political views. Professional athletes we once admired are now Social Justice Warriors. The news? I am thankful for the mute button. We tune in a television program for a little escape and entertainment and find the scripts littered with today’s political and social views where evil becomes good and good becomes evil. The popular programs are about crooked politicians – and the crooks are the stars. Can’t we just have a story? Cop catches bad guy? Flip on the local news and you’re treated to lengthy segments of national political bovine scatology propaganda. Kids come home from school with recorded political views of their teachers. Is it too much to expect a teacher to teach? A sports caster to talk about sports? A barely educated entertainer to actually entertain?
Lost many friends because of your political views? If so, they were never your friends. Friends are friends for reasons other than political views. My approach to life is rather conservative. That wasn’t always the case. Life’s experiences steered me that direction. In my youth, I was a misguided borderline hippie. When cold reality repeatedly smacked me in the kisser and I grasped that no one owed me a damn thing and no one was going to give me anything and ninety percent of life was a battle just to claw my way up to the middle rung of middle class, I really didn’t have the time or energy to contemplate the horrors of misguided youth deciding whether they were meant to be boys or girls. Reality says take a look between your legs. Issue solved. If someone is truly a friend, they accept you and your views without hating your guts. But, when your friend goes off the deep end and cannot converse with you without flaming you for your worldview it may be time to unyoke yourself from that miserable human. It could be they’ve become one of those people who go out on the anniversary of election day and howl at the moon or was it screaming toward the heavens? My rule is quite simple. I can find misery on my own accord. I do not need someone to deliver to me additional unsolicited doses of it. Friends can candidly share views without becoming psychotic. Otherwise they’re not your friends. Never were.
Did you ever write something and when you came to the end of it you’re not sure what the point was but you really feel better? I’m going to go work on the bunker.
© 2018 J. D. Pendry