You will never see the likes of the Brothers Berrigan again. Or Will Rogers, the Marks (Twain and Russell), Dick Gregory, Mort Sahl, George Carlin and Bill Hicks. We’re not talking historical vestiges, vintage heroes. No. We’re talking simply the best of the best who will never return. At least for a few more lifetimes. Listen herein to find the context of my cantankerous contempt.
You’re nothing. Insignificant cosmically. And the sooner you understand this the healthier you’ll be. Psychically. Herein are subjects that you should review – humility, your role in the cosmic garbage disposal and how to self-analyze through talk therapy and thought experiments. It’s a rather simple concept and one I commend to you. Take heart. It’s all perspective. And, like incest, it’s all relative. You’re welcome.
Remember that thing called the election? I mean the election. With our media’s ghoulish and juvenescent preoccupation with over-the-top funereal renditions of what is allegedly respectful remembrance and classy eulogia, all that matters is ignored. But I tried. And try. To redirect the attention span of our collective country.
The American public is distracted, detached and distanced from anything that we vaguely recognize as relevant. And who can blame us? It’s so much easier to talk of the pol who cuts a pizza slice with a knife and fork versus the patented pleated fold. Or seeing Madame Hillary fumble with a NY subway Metrocard to travel two stops in her sudden connection with the masses. We’re a country who knows nothing, feels nothing and appreciates nothing. That involves intellectual heavy lifting. And concern. Alas.
Americans are too busy. Too busy taking pictures of their food and selfies and being self-absorbed and self-focused, bathing in a warm narcissistic glow. And when it comes to getting deep into certain issues, especially those that might be construed as being conspiratorial in nature (translation: true), you might as well change that channel, Sparky. We’re busy. But how we love to bask in the delusion that we’re news junkies, possessed of an elementary understanding of the working parts of multitiered issues analysis. Pshaw! Have a nice day.
Isn’t that a great title? It’s an even better disquisition herein. Some notes follow.
It’s the quiddity of human nature. To think and to dissect and to parse that which is apparent and real and not which is gift-wrapped and force-fed via mythology and folklore. While the world burns, while terrorism infects humanity, while hate and dissension and distance rule the day you can always post some syrupy and saccharine pic about peace and sunsets and bunnies and feel like you’ve done something. Forget historicity, e.g.
Stream of unconsciousness. No précis or proem or prolegomenon or introduction or summary or adumbration or skeleton or outline or pithy phrase or reference can or could possibly describe what this podcast is all about. But Charles Manson comes to mind. “Look down at me and you see a fool, Look up at me and you see a god, Look straight at me and you see yourself.” See?
Fractured. What appears to remain of the Republican Party as we know it – or knew it – is now being rended by internecine wars, feuds, squabbles, infighting and mutineering cabals. How delicious.
The 2016 Presidential Election
