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Painting the devil on the wall.

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I cannot begin to express the joy I feel with the news that the entirety of congress is to be taken over by a Democratic majority come January. It is like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It is like seeing the light at the end of a long and emotionally draining tunnel. It is like watching your long shot bet come first at the wire. It's like what I would envision heaven to be. So you can understand why when I came here and read a few postings from some prognosticators of doom, I was a bit incredulous. Here, We The People just pulled off the biggest political routing seen in some time, and I saw prophets of doom already pissing on the parade. It's not like I wouldn't expect there to be some chewing on sour grapes. This was a huge loss for the Republican Party and DUBYA as well. They should all be grinding their molars and spitting venom like the mad dogs they are. I would expect them one and all to be rolling on the ground having the kind of temper tantrums usually reserved for the eight and under crowd. But, to see that WE are having the tantrums, chewing on the sour grapes, and grinding our teeth just makes me want to do two things: shake my head in wonderment as to why, and slap those doing it silly. I mean, let's get real! We just won! What the f*ck more do you people want? Just because it wasn't tied up in pretty bows, or the crown jewel on the great second American revolution in no way negates its importance. Nor does it give license to those who would find fault with it even before the ink certifying the election numbers has met the bottom line, much less dried on said line, to sing sad arias to the twilight and mournful dirges in the dark. Now is not the time for wailing and gnashing of teeth. Now is not the time for pissing and moaning that what happened really didn't happen, or means nothing. Now is not the time to begin prognostications on how the new iteration of congress is going to f*ck things up as badly as the old one. Now is not the time to paint the devil on the wall. Painting the devil on the wall, that's exactly what I see happening around here. Others I know would also call it practicing sloppy witchcraft. Effectively, it amounts to talking ourselves into defeat. Effectively, it's the ammunition that can negate our triumph, and turn it into a bitter disappointment. Why the need for it? Yes, I know, the powers that be are still the powers that be. Yes, I know, the corporocrats still run the show. Yes, I know, DUBYA isn't about to give up his now weakened control of all that he surveys. Much like the story of Yertle the Turtle by Dr. Seuss, plain little Mack (we the people) did a plain little thing, he burped, and the burp shook the throne of the king. The throne of the king took a hit, people. Are you going to ever realize that? We burped and the throne shook. There is no denying that. On the heels of the shaking of the throne, Dumbsfeld has decided to retire. Do you think that would have happened had we not burped? I, for one, do not! I, for one, am incredibly happy to hear that Dumbsfeld is going away...like he has needed to do for some time now. Let's look at reality for a minute. Just a few days ago, DUBYA said he would keep both Dick(LESS) Cheney and Dumbsfeld until the end of his administration. Now, less than twelve hours after the Democratic Party has wiped up the floor of the House and Senate with the useless asses of the Republicans, Dumbsfeld is walking out the f*cking door! Is this not a victory on top of a victory? Does this not show a chink in the armor that DUBYA thinks he has surrounding himself and his henchmen? Frankly, it looks like one to me! So I ask, why the need for dire prognostications? What good does it serve? Being disaffected is one thing. Trust me, I am as disaffected as they come. I spend hours sending resumes hither and yon. I spend most days wishing I could go to a doctor to get some of my more pressing health matters fixed. I sit here unable to go anywhere or do anything other than hope that one of my resumes pans out. I have no gas in my car, no money in my bank account, no real shining prospects, and no immediate hope of seeing a change in my situation. If there is anyone who writes here who has a right to pitch a b*tch about the political climate of this f*cking country, it's me! And I have, especially when it looked as if nothing I had done here was going to mean anything. However, that's different from complaining about the sky falling when it's clear that's not going to happen. If I can retain some amount of objectivity and even dare I say it, happiness in my life, what's so wrong that others who aren't in as dire straits as I can't seem to get happy? While I am not really here to be anyone's judge, it's clear to me that there is a bit more negativity than is warranted under the present circumstances. We live in the real world. While it is a good thing to have ideals, they can become incredible liabilities for folks who can't keep them in perspective. No matter how much we try to fool ourselves into thinking we will live to see our ideals realized; the plain truth is that doesn't happen very often, if ever. So why get all torn up on the inside when our ideals fall? Why turn that into a reason for scorn? Why become a prophet of doom because our ideals aren't met? Why paint the devil on the wall? There are many who believe that our words and intentions have great power. Still others believe those words and intentions can be brought into reality. By spreading words of doom, it could be seen that we are effectively setting ourselves up for our own downfall. This is the root of what some I know call sloppy witchcraft. Effectively, by our irresponsible and reckless use of negative words, we bring the negativity into existence. So why do it? We have won a political victory. Whether it amounts to the kind of victory you envisioned or not, you cannot deny that we the people made it happen. Not only that, we made it happen against some pretty heavy odds and in the face of unrelenting opposition. This should be a time for happiness, reflection, and deciding what's the next right thing to do. It is not, in my opinion, the time to get out the flagella and scourge ourselves bloody. There may well come a time for wearing hair shirts, and self-induced beatings with cats of nine tails, but I hardly think now is the time for such self-effacing activities. Now is the time to celebrate and get ready for the next step on our way. There will be plenty of opportunities to beat ourselves senseless in the future. Let's enjoy this stop on the road. Don't paint the devil on the wall, or he just might hop off said wall and bring his own kind of hell to bear on us all. We just got out of that, if only temporarily. Let's try to enjoy our newfound promise before we start tearing it to shreds, M'kay? Blessed be! Pappy

 

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Harpist, unemployed blue collar worker, and Bush basher living deep in the heart of Texas.

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