AMERICAN DIGEST: Fish Barrel Bang Archives

Fish Barrel Bang

Acquainted With the Blight (for Ray)

Acquainted with the Blight

I have been one acquainted with the blight.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain,
(And out in rain -- and back in rain,
And out in rain -- and back in rain,
And out in rain -- and .... you get the picture.)
I have been skinsoaked under every city light.

I have looked down every moss-choked city lane.
I have passed drowned dolphins flopping on my lawn,
And splashed them with galoshes unwilling to explain.

I have stood up to my kiester in the ceaseless plop of drops
When overhead a sloshing cloud's deluge
Drenched the houses with a mound of mist,

But not to call me back, but slather me with slops;
And further still at an unearthly height
One more damned raincloud against the sky

Proclaimed Seattle was neither dry nor Right.
I have been one acquainted with the blight.

[Apologies to Robert Lee Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963) on the 50th Anniversary of his passing.]

Posted by Vanderleun at Mar 4, 2014 11:18 PM | Comments (14) | QuickLink:

The Top-Of-The-Food-Chain Soul Train's Gotta Roll: Rush's Rushing to Miss It

This morning (you could have seen it coming from the event horizon of 2008) Limbaugh shuffled aboard the Sequester Soul Train at the White House. It's off-the-rack Limbaugh in which he criticizes the Obamas for conspicuous consumption and quotes Drudge: "POTUS chomping nicorette. Standing O for Lauper, who already looks deep into Obamacare. Now back to urgent gun control push, crying families."

Limbaugh rambles towards his point with "Yeah, yeah, yeah, sequester soul train. I mean, here we are in the middle of the sequester -- do you realize, folks, the Blue Angels have been grounded all year?"

Well, Rush, yes and no. Some do and most don't, but it's mighty white of you to mention it.

Here's the point you don't get, Rush: You are not the audience for this Soul Train special. It's being done for the groundlings. Among the cataplectic African-American Obamaites, 99.9999% don't know, don't care, and wouldn't care about the Blue Angels if they knew. Among the cataplectic African-Americans Soul Train is not only what they want, but what they have to have to fill up the bottomless hole in their blighted lives.

Obama, as anyone with a smidgen of insight knows, is not just the commander-in-chief of African-Americans, he's their bump of coke, their hit of crack, and their 10cc's of heroin IV daily. He's their fix; the one thing that keeps them on the nod and him as their God. Stoking their hope with chump change is the name of his game, and keeping race hot on the hob is his job.

His Number One Chopper and Plane, his Top-Of-The-Food-Chain Soul Train, his limo to his bad golf game... it's all part of how he rolls out his role model. He gives his core constituency bread as well as circuses. It's how the "governing" of what has become a permanent underclass is done in this Brave New 1984. And in terms of keeping it all chill, it works like a charm.

Limbaugh and his conservative cohort seem to think that the Obamas' endless partying, golfing, vacationing, labial lassitude and sloughing off is some sort of gross dereliction of duty. The Limbaughs never tire of pointing out that, among the hard-core unemployed, the most hopelessly unemployed are young black Americans. They seem to think that the Obama's should be "more aware of their suffering" and not so profligate with the nation's resources; not so relentlessly set on squatting over the squander pit and indulging themselves in another load of conspicuous quantitative easing.

This misunderestimentation is not just wrong, it is stupid. The Obamas and their cull-the-herd hivemind in the oval office know exactly and precisely what they are doing. They discuss it. They poll it. They wargame it. They decide on the when and the where of the next action. And then they execute on plan. It's a malicious method of governing but they are very good at malice. And at the camouflaging of malice.

In this case, their protective coloration is to become a large and lavish screen that the proles below may watch; a kind of Dreamland Drive-In. In events such as this shadow of Soul Train they are projecting a lush fantasy world that their supporters can project themselves into and revel in. It is an extension of "even a cat can look at a king" into, through the magic of television and magazines and other venues, the Obamas' worshipers can imagine themselves living the life of the Obamas. All the Obamas have to do is to consistently show themselves to be worthy of their cohort's fantasies.

And they do. They might be eating our seed corn. They might be fiddling about while the country burns. They might be all hat and no cattle. They could be, and most likely are, whistling past their own grave yard. But the Obamas' bottom line has always been and always will be, "Not a single fuck is given."

The Obamas' know their "supporters" down to the marrow of their bought bones. Their cohort has always loved Soul Train. All they want to do is for the train to roll on and never stop delivering them the big bottomed beat. That it's a runaway train heading for a very large cliff doesn't bother them. It would if they could conceive of a future beyond the next bump of coke, hit of crack, and 10cc's of heroin IV daily. But they can't.

The Obamas not only know this, they depend upon it. Next year they'll be twerking to it. So study up and prepare for the moment when you hear: "All aboard for Soul Train."

Fish Barrel Bang

" Is The New York Times a Liberal Newspaper?"