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School's out for summer, but Congress's been attending summer school. Elected officials are breaking into a sweat carrying out lesson plans. While a rout insists on graduating by handing in the same paper on every subject. They carry cheat sheets and scribble the same answer on every test.

As the savage brawl of ugliness chases its own tail, is it any wonder anyone can jump out of the spin long enough to make some common sense? The politics of power have shifted so askew that the class president has become The Pursued in a terrible game of gotcha by an echo chamber passed down by the Dean of Students desperate to see the president fail. Who propagates that the student body must be saved from the wiles of Ferris and has set out to label him, The Imposter, leading us down the primrose path. He justifies his agenda by rallying his accommodating associates. "He jeopardizes my ability to effectively govern this student body." And then, puts it more bluntly, "Last thing I need in my career is Ferris Bueller disciples running around these halls." Who roots for a guy like that? Who willingly sides with the polyester clad Ed Rooneys of America?

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If there's any evidence that The Dean's partisan attacks are still on the prowl it is the scuffle over health care. Team Left sprains its political muscle for the public option, but their training level is no match for team Right's No-to-Everything defense. Because, let's face it, team Right's been flexing a different muscle all along. The Left's impotent track record has them fumbling over their newfound majority status and they're calling for an all out gang bang after the game in order to settle previous scores. If that doesn't dishearten you to look away from what would be the bloody sport of politics-as-usual, I don't know what will.

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All hell's broken loose. And there's Ferris. The Day After: The Sequel. Standing his ground between them. No one's got his back, and no referee's in sight.

And those who are beguiled into seeing Ed Rooney as a delusional image of Dirty Harry are duly motivated to misplace their anger at the top of their lungs from the sidelines. With a whole lot of ammo loaded in gibberish, it seems, once again, they are mesmerized by the theatrics of the brawny at heart. What's odd is the audience demographic attending most of these town halls who supposedly reflect the American student body. What happened there? Did the rest homes for the elderly run out of activities for fun hour?

In the theater of economics, a trillion-dollar-deficit plays out a schism of creative differences. Keynesians who dotted on Ferris, ever so, now threaten to pull the plug on the bright light they've been shining on him. Though he's been featured merely months at the playhouse, they threaten to find a stand in for next performance. Even though they themselves haven't studied their lines, and insist on emulating the Supply-siders' villainous characteristics, hoping no one will notice. They chime in their own character assassination of their once beloved Ferris. They seem to have forgotten the spirit by which they chose him for the role in the first place. They want to take the show on the high road. Who needs rehearsals? All Ferris needs to do is be the empty-suited marionette they need him to be. They dare to dream for the sky with a ceiling closing in at their puppet theater.

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When Ferris drew the curtain to a Celestial Day and decided to dodge being schooled on European Socialism, he knew he couldn't operate his objectives without his progressive friends who drive roadsters. Because he doesn't even own a clunker! The question is, how does he get his hypochondriac friends to get up from under the covers, stop moping, come over and pick him up?

He keeps his cool. Despite colossal odds against him he covers his bases: "Life moves pretty fast," he concedes, moving forward with the plan. "If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." In the long haul to graduation, he knows he's got to reserve his arsenal for another behemoth hovering over him: His thesis on the subject of Civic Religion.

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Val Strange is a freelance writer journeying these United States and keeping score. She holds a master's degree in Media Studies from Syracuse University after working in the movie business for over a decade. Her essays appear on several online (more...)

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