Help Me if You Can, I'm Feeling Bad

Philip j. Rappa

Together Forever Changing

An Article

Help Me if You Can, I'm Feeling Bad

Mid-term elections are coming! Mid-term elections are coming! Two if by bribe, one if by soft money and I, as a grown man just feel like sobbing. May be it’s just me, but I think the time has come to make it a mandatory requirement that all politicians wear jackets that are similar to those donned by race car drivers. This vestment must have all the appropriate emblems representing their variety of multi-corporate sponsors.

This two-party system, by its words and actions visually seem singular in nature morphing into Republicrats. I have systemic symptom for the past year: I’m constantly lightheaded and I have a queasy stomach as I try to come to terms with this new compassionate conservativism.

Since the Supreme Court anointed George Junior president – and without missing a beat, with all their genius and wisdom that they could muster, declared money spent to elect candidates and promote private and commercial interest in Washington a form of constitutionally-protected free speech. As the clock struck midnight , our representative republic changed into a plutocracy. As we crossed over into a new millennium, we have consensually allowed these well-tailored and coiffed cinder gals and fellows to rush off together to a non-partisan inaugural ball

joining hands dancing pell mell in a chorographic massive movement to state their claim to deregulate any and all laws and legislation fashioned to protect our environment, workplace and our pocketbook.

Deregulation where cash is king. Enron, folks, is just the tip of the iceberg. Republicrats helping themselves to bounty and booty left to their own devices assist in speeding up the unraveling of our sense of accountability and responsibility to this generation and future generations. At this moment in time, those in Washington , D.C. and their minions in each state house epitomize the ultimate apocalyptic Machiavellian nightmare. Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore and this isn’t a place Mr. Smith should ever go.

Washington , D.C. has become a Faustian Club Med for the rich and powerful. This group of individuals, self-appointed nobility in the House and Senate has a sense of entitlement. No longer do they harbor their secrets, instead they wear their guile artifice deception and self-interest like badges of courage.

One year down, three to go, to the rein of the boy who wished to be king. This apple of his mother’s eye hasn’t fallen far from its tree. George the First had a bad stomach when he realized he wasn’t “out of the loop”. George the Second has had just his first passing out episode. The air is very thin when you’re over your head in crony capitalism. Three years to go before we eliminate from our midst a man who collectively, with the help of Enron, couldn’t win a senate seat from a dead man. The Bad Sheriff of Nottingham : a/k/a Attorney General Ashcroft.

Folks, taxation without representation is as true now as it was when we won independence from the Brits. There is a citizen’s movement that began in 1998 in Massachusetts , Vermont and Maine . It is called “The Clean Money Law” and “The Clean Election Referendum” finally making elected officials beholding to voters “not big money”. It can be done if we want it. Let us not wait till we go the path of Argentina .

On the night Victor Hugo died he wrote in his diary, “Stronger than all the Armies is an idea whose time has come.”

© Philip J. Rappa 2002

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