The Days of Warm Prosperity
By David Glenn Cox
In the days of warm prosperity, it is rather a simple matter to accept as gospel all that you are told. After all, comfort and pockets filled with cash can do much to numb the senses narrowing the vision from our eyes. In those days, I was a happy and heartfelt democrat; I always held some sort of a naive faith in the political process, but as I’ve gotten older and poorer, that faith has evaporated, leaving behind the exposed brutal rocks of contradiction.
This is a common experience for us all, as well after; Bush vs. Gore, 9-11, Ohio 2004, Joe Lieberman was Al Gore’s running mate for Pete’s sake. John Edwards was John Kerry’s running mate and those are just the Democrats. In a society denominated only by wealth, the bulk of that society is destined to be ignored, simply because there isn’t any real reason for the political class in Washington, to pay any attention, whatsoever to the populace. It is truly the last days of Rome as the public need is blithely ignored so that the political class might gorge themselves unreservedly.
Our political system is divided between two political parties, both fueled by the same monetary sources having evolved and degenerated into billionaires buying political office, credential only by their wealth. Take for example, One Willard (Mutt) Romney. Romney is the son of a two term Governor and millionaire auto executive. Every story, every revelation about this man child’s character reveals a picture of a prep school bully, a George W. Bush redux, with an over achieving and distant father. The over privileged prep school boy who can have anything he wants, except love and attention. The man child, like a tea kettle raging inside, who puts the mutt on the minivan because he doesn’t want dog hair on daddies expensive new shirt. “Don’t argue with daddy now, you’ll only make him angry.” He is a narcissistic personality, who holds no regard for anyone else’s feelings, save his own. This masterpiece of modern manhood is considered today as Presidential timber in the post industrial, post modern and post democratic America.
We are given a choice in our presidential elections of either being dropped in a volcano or being left naked at the North Pole. This we proudly proclaim to the world, as that American brand of democracy which we so wish to share with those poor third world unfortunates. Unfortunates who, minding their own business just don’t know any better, and forced to pay the price for their ignorance with American boots on their ground. A paid media spectacle, funded by big money for politicians who after having just raised this cash, must return it back into the pockets of mega media corporations, nothing more than a dog chasing its own tail. Faux issues, real wars, real hardship and real blood and treasure.