Peeple of zee wurl, relax.
Peeple of zee wurl, relax.
I normally don’t parrot other people’s lines when conjuring up titles for these musings. But since this title was stolen from a parrot, I figured, properly attributed, it was okay.
It wasn’t literally a parrot who said “Peeple of zee wurl, relax.” It was a parrot from literature. More specifically, the quote is found in Tom Robbins’ brilliant “Fierce invalids home from hot climates.” It’s a great read, unfinished on my part, so, no worries, I won’t give away the ending.
Robbins’ parrot is named “Sailor” and in the book Sailor is being subjected to tremendous upheaval for the purpose of his liberation. It’s somehow fitting that in these hard and troubled times I found solace in the form of a made up parrot facing horrific peril on his make-believe journey through the jungles of Peru. Conventional consolations like comfort food and Deepak Chopra never really worked for me.
Perhaps one day I’ll expound about my own very real and perilous journey, but not now. I’m but one of many on this path that’s fraught with frightening forks. And to quote more absurd wisdom, Yogi Berra said “when you come to a fork take it.” So stay with me…
The pointy tine upon the nearest fork that has my attention at this moment is the pending election and what these tea party people are about to unleash. Let’s get this straight, I’m as pissed off as the next person, but I’d like to think I’m still capable of the odd coherent thought and that analysis of a problem is best served by starting with the facts, not paranoid fantasy.
But coherence and factual basis are ill-suited to this movement and they’ve served up a slate of candidates with nothing but contempt for and no grasp of the details of the government they seek to govern.
They’re pissed because they see “their” America changing and, like the red-faced Medicare recipient waving a sign warning of the menace that is government-run health care, they got theirs and by-God they couldn’t care less about yours.
Attention tea partiers: This ain’t the America that used to be or is supposed to be or what we thought it was. It’s hardly a news flash that time changes things.
Given the collective funk of the electorate and its tendency to do surgery with a jackhammer instead of a scalpel, I suspect the tea bag crowd will get its whack at governance. And by governance I mean befouling anything anyone who has a vision beyond a bumper sticker tries to accomplish. It’ll be a spectacle.
But Relax. Bob Dylan wrote that “nothing really matters much, it’s doom alone that counts.” On the face of it, that sounds like a resignation to ruination. But look harder and you realize the man is telling us when it all comes tumbling down it don’t matter how you fixed your hair that morning. That kind of doom is bigger than me. Bigger than you. And sure as hell bigger than the tea baggers.
Oh they’ll have their day. But nothing exposes a demagogue quicker than the verb “to do.” They’ll be stopped flat in their tracks once the dullards they’ve put in power start stopping the benefits the hypocritical tea bag crowd enjoys. Medicare, Social Security, housing subsidies, water and sewer, decent roads, safe streets, education for their children.
Enough of us will figure them out well before the tea bag people can brew-up doomsday and they’ll be exposed as the vacuous gasbags they are. Hell, some good could actually come of it if the left and right emerge with a better understanding of that pesky verb “to do.”
We’ll get through this. Just take Sailor’s advice, “peeple of zee wurl, relax.”Return to latest entry
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