TALKING POINTS FOR MY SWEET BARAK

 

 

The conspicuously lynch mobbish tone, tenor and ambiance of some of the recent McCain rallies evidently calls to mind, for those of us of a certain age, the freedom marches in Selma, Alabama circa 1965.  That’s how I link the recent downdraft in Cactus Jack’s poll numbers with the footage of McCainiacs (gee we wish we’d given that clever neologism a bit more thought, since his base seems increasingly certifiable) screaming for Obama’s neck, head, balls and ass.  

The vast ocean of moderates/independents that stabilizes our political climate seems unnerved, and put off, and frankly offended by this reminder of how little distance we have put between ourselves and our uglier hoodoos.  Back then, news footage of slavering racists percolated up a generation of civil libertarians and egalitarians.  Now, less violent but ideologically similar images just may be the element that nudges Obama over the top.  

On the other hand, perhaps I’m merely full of shit.

Now, if I were advising or ghostwriting for the Big O–a ghastly proposition for either of us–I would bid him hammer home relentlessly two points.

First: This asshole Dick Fuld, the former CEO of Lehman who steered it into the tank and walked away with a $480 million payout?  Well, that’s exactly the kind of asshole who will most profit if, as McCain intends, the tax break for the uberwealthy is extended into perpetuity.  

And the bloodsucking fuckups who headed Freddie and Fanny?  Yeah, same deal.  McCain wants them to pay a smaller percentage of their gargantuan income in taxes than you do of that pittance you call an income.  Putz.

Second:  “Drill, baby, drill!”  Only a political base that is imbecilic enough to cheer the ditz from the tundra could chant this crap with enthusiasm.  Let’s review:  There is only so much oil on the planet earth; it is used for thousands of things, ranging from fuel to plastics to medicines; it will always be valuable, and given the law of supply and demand can only become more so over time.  

Which means that it is a precious resource, and that the amount that we control in, for example, our own offshore deposits, should logically be husbanded and saved and hoarded.  Fifty years from now, those deposits will be worth 20 times what they are today, and could spare us from having to knuckle under to hostile nations for an ongoing supply. 

Drill baby drill?  Sure, you bet, let’s locate and consume our own national supply of this increasingly vital commodity ASAP.  Idiots!  Put those offshore oil deposits in an  energy lockbox; let Russia and Venezuela and Saudi Arabia and other countries that would like to see us a nation of soup lines use up their goddam petroleum, and just hope to hell they don’t get wise before it’s too late.

This, of course, is why I have not been invited to offer my sage counsel and considered wisdom to the Democratic candidate.  Well, that and the Nader tattoo on my dick.