The removable and the edible feasts
The miasma is thick and the mud turning to muck as the various skunks urinate in the same puddle: wear your boots -- the longest, the highest you've got!
Following the latest national election the dissatisfied are behaving in a manner to which it appears they believe they have license: universal complaint that the elected represents only uneducated, uncouth, unable boobs who cannot see the error of their ways. This has inspired a much needed response, for silence seems to mean assent, but while some respondents are sensible others appear to delight in squeezing the defecations of the opposition through their fingers.
Use a fork, I say: clear the table and start over! We've had this surfeit of emotion pouring out like vinegar-ed libation since at least the OJ Simpson trial, after which OJ has become the man most certainly considered to have beat the court system because he was armed with supporters, it appears (owing to a super-fast jury decision -- they should have ordered lunch, and later on dinner, while showing grandchild pictures around the conference table) who were not likely by far to permit him to be made fodder, and so he has become the man least likely to be brought home to dinner -- anywhere, including among his ostensible supporters.
I like the other way: S/He goes to court, has a trial of peers, is convicted or acquitted, and eveyone goes home to dinner with the sense that justice was done, whether they actually believe it or not, because that is what they are educated, trained, and able to comprehend, and have made a conviction to think is our system of justice. I suggest we treat elections and the elected in the same manner -- and the supporters of each and whichever candidate -- because, like it or not, we have to go home to dinner next door to them, and sometimes to share a meal together, if for no other reason than that we are lonely or inspired and wish company. Their company.
Proof of the justice of this suggestion is that the plaintiffs on the street and in the press and media, had they been satisfied by the choice they supported, would expect the opposing community, whom they are now denouncing, to say "Oh, well...better luck to us next time," and to go home to dinner, maybe with a friend, whether to discuss 'Wha'just happened?' or why, and the so-called winners, instead of whiners, living next door would expect them to get up the next morning and go to work refreshed, stopping by the coffee cart to be ribbed by fellow workers whose candidate won. And to take it with a genuine smile.
They should send back the overcooked plate they got from their institutional kitchen and ask for something palatable, or to eat in peace, mindful of those who are starving.
Indeed, it has been my experience that these particular representatives of the "loser" in question are often wont to suggest "Get'ohva it!" when the shoe is on the other foot and their dessert is scruptuous. I think that is a good idea: When you cannot do anything about "it" -- move on! They should experience that, beginning now. After all, our neighborhoods are full of boys and girls whose parents represent the several opposite sides of the national political divides, and those kids are going to want to marry one another, and go home together with their parents and siblings and later on with their children, too -- the grandchildren of the oppositional grandparents. It would be good were they all able to suppress any and every thought that the people they were sitting down to dinner with were imbeciles, ingrates, hobnail-bootbrains, and the like.
Yes, that is a good idea and I am going to take the recommendation: I can swallow that. Bring on the full menu.
Following the latest national election the dissatisfied are behaving in a manner to which it appears they believe they have license: universal complaint that the elected represents only uneducated, uncouth, unable boobs who cannot see the error of their ways. This has inspired a much needed response, for silence seems to mean assent, but while some respondents are sensible others appear to delight in squeezing the defecations of the opposition through their fingers.
Use a fork, I say: clear the table and start over! We've had this surfeit of emotion pouring out like vinegar-ed libation since at least the OJ Simpson trial, after which OJ has become the man most certainly considered to have beat the court system because he was armed with supporters, it appears (owing to a super-fast jury decision -- they should have ordered lunch, and later on dinner, while showing grandchild pictures around the conference table) who were not likely by far to permit him to be made fodder, and so he has become the man least likely to be brought home to dinner -- anywhere, including among his ostensible supporters.
I like the other way: S/He goes to court, has a trial of peers, is convicted or acquitted, and eveyone goes home to dinner with the sense that justice was done, whether they actually believe it or not, because that is what they are educated, trained, and able to comprehend, and have made a conviction to think is our system of justice. I suggest we treat elections and the elected in the same manner -- and the supporters of each and whichever candidate -- because, like it or not, we have to go home to dinner next door to them, and sometimes to share a meal together, if for no other reason than that we are lonely or inspired and wish company. Their company.
Proof of the justice of this suggestion is that the plaintiffs on the street and in the press and media, had they been satisfied by the choice they supported, would expect the opposing community, whom they are now denouncing, to say "Oh, well...better luck to us next time," and to go home to dinner, maybe with a friend, whether to discuss 'Wha'just happened?' or why, and the so-called winners, instead of whiners, living next door would expect them to get up the next morning and go to work refreshed, stopping by the coffee cart to be ribbed by fellow workers whose candidate won. And to take it with a genuine smile.
They should send back the overcooked plate they got from their institutional kitchen and ask for something palatable, or to eat in peace, mindful of those who are starving.
Indeed, it has been my experience that these particular representatives of the "loser" in question are often wont to suggest "Get'ohva it!" when the shoe is on the other foot and their dessert is scruptuous. I think that is a good idea: When you cannot do anything about "it" -- move on! They should experience that, beginning now. After all, our neighborhoods are full of boys and girls whose parents represent the several opposite sides of the national political divides, and those kids are going to want to marry one another, and go home together with their parents and siblings and later on with their children, too -- the grandchildren of the oppositional grandparents. It would be good were they all able to suppress any and every thought that the people they were sitting down to dinner with were imbeciles, ingrates, hobnail-bootbrains, and the like.
Yes, that is a good idea and I am going to take the recommendation: I can swallow that. Bring on the full menu.
posted by Duct Tape at 3:14 PM
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