Aug 24, 2020

August 22, 2020: Ass Festivals, Shorn of Responsibilities, Wash These Sins



We want to be free...free to ride...free to ride without being hassled by the man”.

So declared Peter Fonda's character in the motorcycle epic Wild Angels as he struggled to articulate the whole point of his existence. A declaration of independence, in a manner of speaking, but a declaration shorn of responsibilities. And so it was that the Generation of Swine were led to believe that freedom carries no responsibility, that freedom lies, like some motorcycle gang living on the fringe, deep in the woods, in total alienation.

As we speak, the bikers are wrapping up festivities at what has to be one of the great Ass Festivals in America. Over a quarter million of the great unwashed gathered from all over the country and descended, as they do every year at this time, upon the hapless town of Sturgis, South Dakota. The purpose of this demonstration is unclear except perhaps to rumble through the streets, buy souvenirs, and consume mass quantities of alcohol and petroleum; no masks, no social distancing. Pandemic be damned.

This is, in microcosm, where we are today in America. Half the country is not taking necessary precaution, wearing protective gear, nor social distancing. Thirty five percent is reported to have told pollsters if a vaccine were introduced that they won't take it. The mayor of Los Angeles has cut off utilities to homes hosting large parties, gatherings intended to circumvent the public closing of bars and restaurants. That large gatherings have proven lethal, notably former Republican presidential candidate Herman Cain died after attending tRUMP's little rally in Tuscon earlier this summer, goes unheeded. As the minister in charge of the national health, Mike Pence, so inarticulately put it, the guidelines established by the Center for Disease Control (CDC) will not determine how or when we reopen the economy or send our children into harms way. We will open our businesses and schools, authority be damned.

Another of the great Ass Festivals is about to convene, this the quadrennial gathering of the rarefied mendacity known as the ResCUMlickan Party. This time to renominate the most ignorant, vile, corrupt and incompetent man ever to disgrace the national political stage. The nation be damned.
The common denominator here is alienation. Here the denizens of society gather to express their willful ignorance, giving the collective society the great middle finger. This is not only deeply troubling, but is outright dangerous. As armed bands storm state capitals to somehow 'liberate' us from some wholly imaginary oppression, one is reminded of the films of the late sixties featuring motorcycle gangs terrorizing small communities for no apparent reason, except that they could be terrorized. Vandalism writ large.

Contrast this with the Democratic National Convention where national leaders ranging from Vermont's independent Bernie Sanders to former Republican Governors John Kashic of Ohio, and New Jersey's Christine Todd Whitman, called for national unity to confront the barbarians at the gates. In a very un-Obama speech, the former president sounded the alarm reminding all of us that responsibilities attend the exercise of freedom, that to stand aside and not participate is to be complicit in the undoing of the republic. It has come to that.

I met her on the strip three years ago
in this Camero with this dude from L.A
I blew that Camero off my back
and drove that little girl away

Now there's wrinkles 'round my baby's eyes
and she cries herself to sleep at night
when I come home the house is dark
sobbing baby if you make it alright

She sits on the porch of her daddy's house
all her pretty dreams are torn
she stares off alone into the night
with the eyes of one who hates for just being born

All the shut down strangers and hot rod angels
rumbling through this promised land
my baby and me, we're gonna ride to the sea
and wash these sins off our hands

Tonight, tonight the highway's bright
out of our way, mister, you best keep
for summer's here and the time is right
for racing in the street”
----Bruce Springsteen, Racing in the Street

Fascism, as Hannah Ardrendt tells us, is not an ideology but merely a revolt; not a march to a glorious future but a vandalism of the present in pursuit of some imaginary past. It is a revolt born of alienation, an alienation, Eric Hoffer reminds us, rooted in self-loathing. A movement of manifest hatred. They hate the present because they have not lived up to the moment. They hate us because they hate themselves.

Always there is some small measure of truth supporting every noble lie. One could accept the rational that the great alienation beneath the maggot hats is born of economic hardship and stagnation, of middle class struggle for existence. All that is true, but the revolt began well before the conservatives got their hands about the throat of the republic. People like William F. Buckley, Barry Goldwater and Ronald Reagan were haranguing Americans about 'freedom' well before the advent of hard times, indeed their screeds coincided at precisely the last time in which the middle class was invited to the party, the last time the middle class benefited from economic good times. Nothing about the critique computes, for this movement is not based on reason but rather passion, the passion of hatred. What binds Caesar Disgustus to his idolaters is not sound and rational public policy designed to advance their interests, but hatred. He hates the same people they do. That is the common denominator, that is the cement that binds One has only to confront the latest outrage in which the Scum-In-Chief twitted that he has just made the suburbs safe by signing an executive order limiting the spread of low income housing in suburbia. In this way those in our great suburbs will be 'free' to enjoy their middle class existence without threat of having rub shoulders with undesirables; and we all know who are these undesirables. Freedom is defined not as creating opportunity but in limiting it. The very ideal of Freedom is now perverted in a crass attempt to shore up a political base for the upcoming election.

freedom's just another word
for nothin' left to lose”
----Chris Kristofferson “Me and Bobby Magee”

Freedom divorced from context; freedom alienated from responsibility; freedom as cudgel with which to vandalize the very foundations of freedom; freedom in service of a villain. Let us wash these sins off our hands.

An' Br'er Putin, he jus' laugh and laugh

Flush this turd, November 3rd.



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