7/30/2008

I often refer to the movie 'The Wizard Of Oz' when things get weird. It's a learned response, I suppose, from years of living amongst the weirdest. I consider myself, as Dr. Thompson suggested, a pro.

Lately, I've been getting the full on peep show of what passes for 'The Man Behind the Curtain'. At one time, I was proud of my ability to see what what others might miss, my secret ability, if you will, all performed without a cape. Except on Mardi Gras, of course.

The most recent additions to this show have changed me. I find myself more likely to stay in, to stay out, to drink too much, to not drink at all, to laugh hysterically or remain stoic for no reason; I find myself on one edge or another, and not so often at the relaxed place in between. Something is bugging me....

I don't like to be insulted, especially in public, and especially by being treated like I'm stupid. I'll bet most of you agree. It's just not cool.

So I'd like a day when we get a free pass;

A day where our state senator admits he's a diaper wearing whore monger.
A councilman admits he pushed his gal around and went home to get a lap dance from a couple of hookers to maintain his massive ego.
A police chief who admits he punishes renegade cops only when the press catches them doing some really fucked up shit, and the rest of the time he's out running a sting on drunken street bums while we get murdered in our sleep.
A Mayor who simply admits he wasn't paying attention to his own Non-Profit while it fleeced the city and a local blogger (Karen Gadbois) had to catch it for him. Or that he spend thousands of tax dollars going out to dinner at fancy restaurants while families with kids are wondering where they'll go when the trailer gets taken away.

But why stop with the City of New Orleans?

How about a presidential candidate admitting that he's a doddering fool, out of touch with the times, who came home from his POW stint to dump his crippled wife and marry and beer heiress, and has no real clue what he's doing unless he's told?

Maybe some oil companies who admit that they're finally lowering gasoline prices to throw a fix into the elections this fall, to keep those republican bastards' boot on our necks.

I'd be happy if just one of them, or even somebody like them, would tell me straight up, "you don't really matter to us at all, you're just a hand puppet who gets our greedy fingers up the ass every few years, so we can line our pockets and get more control over your life. The news papers print what we tell them, and we ensure many hours of mindless celebrity worship and sexual innuendo on television, because it's more dangerous then the drugs we feed you in the form of alcohol and cigarettes."

Yeah. Something like that. A little bit of truth before we submerge back into being Mind Slaves.

But I'll wait.
I think that there's enough pissed off hand puppets out there to elect a New President...
To turn off Bill O'Reilly, just because he's a dickhead, regardless of his shouting us down...
To start reading alternative news sources instead of watching Sean Hannity twist the truth like fucking Elmer Gantry...
To finally say, "No, I don't believe you, I don't trust you, and I want to see for myself."

Of course, this could be a fool's errand. I might be the only one who feels this way. And tomorrow, I might say to myself, 'Why write? Why read? Those wacky Kardashian Girls are on the TV again. Gas prices have dropped, and Bill Jefferson seems like a nice guy.'

But I don't think so.

I'm just guessing here, but I think that there's about to be a big shake up going around. I think some of these assholes will be lucky to get off without finding out just how crowded our prison system is. I think there are many, many people who are just mad as hell, tired of losing their homes, their futures, their children's educations and in fact, their lives, because some fucking mope in a suit, with a rich daddy and a great press kit, stuffed his dirty little hand up our ass again, to take more and more and more.

I certainly hope so.
But then, I could spend the hours, conversing with the flowers, if I only had a brain....

Lord David
Pirate & Artist
Skull Club & Humidcity.com
New Orleans