"...as all history informs us, there has been in every State & Kingdom a constant kind of warfare between the governing & governed: the one striving to obtain more for its support, and the other to pay less. And this has alone occasioned great convulsions, actual civil wars, ending either in dethroning of the Princes, or enslaving of the people. Generally indeed the ruling power carries its point, the revenues of princes constantly increasing, and we see that they are never satisfied, but always in want of more. The more the people are discontented with the oppression of taxes; the greater need the prince has of money to distribute among his partisans and pay the troops that are to suppress all resistance, and enable him to plunder at pleasure. There is scarce a king in a hundred who would not, if he could, follow the example of Pharaoh, get first all the peoples money, then all their lands, and then make them and their children servants for ever." ~ Benjamin Franklin
Bushes, Shrubs, and Other Dangerous Tinder
So, . . . . I'm freshly arrived at work the other evening with a nice, positive, philosophical and industrious attitude about being there. For me, achieving this sort of mindset is no small feat and it requires a good deal of mental effort and forced self-discipline. Naturally, I was feeling just a little bit proud of myself for getting there. Then I spied the disturbing image of a pointing and waving Shrub emanating from the boobtube over the bar.
Poof! Positive attitude instantly out the window! I'm out of earshot, but I can see two or three patrons on the edge of their barstools in the largely empty lounge, paying rapt attention to Shrub's silently moving lips. With a dreadful foreboding, I'm anxiously drawn closer to the TV screen and the cocksure, posturing marionette-in-chief, lecturing the cameras with his by now too familiar and particularly annoying, trade-mark brand of supremely vacuous insouciance.
With the haunting spectre of Shrub's detestable father, His Majesty George I, lurking horribly amidst old memories I prefer not to recall, I reluctantly listen to Shrub's increasingly monotonous and tiresome inflammatory accusations and martial exhortations. Though entirely substantially unchanged since his artificial installation, Shrub's raving rhetoric now exhibits an alarmingly more strident tone than previously''if that's possible. I am partially relieved not to hear those despicable words which Bush the Elder so sanctimoniously intoned over the small screen, one cold dark night some twelve years ago: "Cruise missiles are now in the air on their way to Iraq , even as I speak."
Though painful to recollect, I will never forget the psyche searing image of that venal charlatan gleefully announcing to the world his unfolding plan of death and destruction already underway. It was a watershed for me, of sorts, disturbing to the extreme. Though by then I was fully aware of the fraudulent and mendacious nature of our government, and governments in general, I had not yet truly perceived, deep down to the core of my soul, the enormous totality of political man's utter baseness towards his fellow man (something I came to understand much later).
I remember my utter disbelief and abhorrence when Bush I's sternly condescending televised image metamorphosized before my very eyes into a horribly chilling and real personification of old Satan himself. Shifty malevolent eyes and thin, cruel lips heralded with obvious satisfaction the inexorably irreversible and grim course of war he now pursued in the name of all Americans''never mind the consent of the governed. I honestly perceived a pair of nascent horn nubs sprouting from his unattractively pasty forehead, and bright crimson blood literally dripping from his wickedly depraved lips (No, I was not tripping, though this did easily eclipse any bum trips I might have ever experienced).
I say I was partially relieved to hear Shrub uttering no actual war announcement because I'm confident (and afraid) that this risible puppet and his sponsors fully intend to have their military adventure, be it tomorrow, next week, or a month from now. Don't any of these idiots read history books? Alas, peaceniks and dissidents, batten down the hatches, brothers. The die is already cast.
For what it's worth, then, here is my simplified analysis:
It's strictly business. Despite the continuing financial reassurances incessantly broadcast by smug MSNBCFOXCNN . . . XYZ.com mouthpieces (O.K., O.K., I'll admit I'm in love with the exquisite and mesmerizing Maria Bartiromo), the economy of the USA is in the proverbial crapper. Not that your favorite All-War, All-the-Time channel will tell you, but evil Saddam is really rubbing it in the Fed's nose by starting a widespread defection amongst the world's vassal states from the so-called USDollar to that pernicious irritant upstart, the Euro.
And why not? The nearly total debasement of the once sound, world wide monetary standard, the dollar, is no longer even a fact that officials bother to dismiss. Recent public statements by Treasury officials to the effect that, "we will print as many dollars as the situation requires" belie any sort of honorable or good-will intention by entrusted government functionaries to preserve whatever little remaining sanctity our national currency may possess. The Euro is, at least, partially tied to the price of man's historically preferred wealth storing commodity, gold. Currently, the dollar is backed by "the good faith and credit of the United States government" . . . in other words, a lot of hot air, empty government promises, and your progeny's future extorted taxes. However tenuous the Euro's link to intrinsically valuable hard gold, a little backing is better than none at all.
The current "Shock and Awe" battle strategy (this ain't nothing new, brother) in place for the traditionally volatile Middle East will be "a good thing," generating fresh new orders within the military/industrial community measured in trillions and trillions of the de facto hollow Fed dollars. Small price to pay for these enormous benefits, the lives of a few hundred thousand camel-jockeys and expendable and assorted allied army ground grunts.
Sad, yes, but I think that is how it will play out.
Even more tragic, I believe, will be the environmental costs, and the inevitable righteous Islamic retaliation. The holocaust of the world's most horribly widespread and gargantuan blazing oil fires, and the unforgettable Manhattan morning cataclysm (not to even mention the ascendancy of Billy Jeff Clinton), are the indelible gifts of Bush I's crowning imperial adventures. The consequences of Shrub's new terror war could conceivably be far more serious.
And the worst part is, this awful shit will probably hit the fan, . . . no matter who wins the war.
Say a prayer with me now. "God Help us!"