Wikipedia defines a rabbit hole as "any portal into a different or strange world." Yep, it’s looking pretty strange all right. It’s not a cool rabbit hole like Alice’s or Marlee’s. Mine is dark, deep and depressing. That darn drug war video from the last post got me started.
The completely crazy thing is, I don’t want to stop falling. I’m just not done. You know that nagging feeling there is something going on, but you just can’t put your finger on what exactly "it" is? I found it: a giant, smarmy beast I’m compelled to touch, to learn, to know. Like Charles Wallace’s IT in A Wrinkle in Time. Like my first 12-step meeting: extremely uncomfortable and in exactly the right place.
The election shoved me over the edge. I was fine skating along, being my bad sarcastic, smug, defiant expat self. Then Ron Paul came along and, excuse my trite-iness, cured my apathy. That son of a bitch. I got so excited, so hopeful, I started to really pay attention. Silly rabbit: this just leads to bottomless rabbit holes. Like this one.
I’m not alone: this election is bringing out the extremist in anyone the least bit interested. The neo-cons are SO that, the Obama-ites SO fervent, the radicals, the warmongers, the pro-choicers, the truthers – everyone practically up in arms. Perhaps a bad metaphor, but you know what I mean. Fervent, excited, committed. Pushy.
My current bent is constitutionalist. I’ve never been a fan of Big Government, having suffered at the hands of too many government agencies, seen the dank underbelly of monetary policy, learned to recognize the bankers’ lies. Like the subprime lending and resulting speculative bubble in real estate sales created by easy money created out of thin air by Central Bankers. We sit slack-jawed watching the economic tsunami make landfall.
I’ve experienced first-hand (and far too often, due to "being in the business") the deep and persistent corruption of a small town’s Building & Code Enforcement department (the entire Key West department should be in jail for the havoc they’ve wreaked over the years). Felt the heady thrill of an IRS audit notice (which is nothing compared to the stun-gun effect when they subpoena your bank and call your landlord.) Suffered mightily at the hands of the public servants down at the FL sales tax office (those guys make Costa Rica’s customs’ guys look downright user-friendly). Come to know just how much power your friendly Child "Protective" Services agency’s got – not personally, thank God.
Although, when Morgan was two, he had a screaming hissy fit for his binkie that lasted 40 minutes. He was in a terrible tantrum phase. He’d get in a state over something and would go ballistic. I’d tried everything to curb it: hugging, yelling, time out… this time, I let him go. I sat outside in the back yard and tried not to break resolve while he sat inside and SCREAMED. When it was over, he was fine, he fell asleep, and never had another tantrum like that again. But the next day, my neighbor, on the public dole, as smug as they come, perfect snitch material, asked me, "What happened, why was your son screaming like that yesterday?" I told her. She smiled a not-nice smile and said, "You’re lucky someone didn’t call Child Protection on you." Then turned and walked away. Nice neighbor. She’s in charge of second graders nine months a year?
Is it any wonder I’m completely over Big Government breathing down our necks?
I’m also not a huge President Bush fan. Not even an itsy bitsy teeny weeny one. You know the man couldn’t complete second grade today without help. He belongs in prison, along with Clinton, Rove and George I. Along with about a zillion other politicians. But George II is our penance for being too busy to pay attention. Too busy makin’ the scratch to pay taxes and child care, perhaps, but we still allowed IT to happen.
My friend, Barbara, who has lived here most of her 48 years, is blissfully unaware. Creative, thoughtful, smart as a whip and 100% right-brained. She’ll never read this because she has a computer she never turns on. A cell phone in her purse that’s never on. Right now, I want to be her. Tragically, I’m R 44%-L 56%: left-brained enough to surf YouTube and sign up for email newsletters warning of impending doom, right-brained enough to let it get to me. I gave Barb a quick run-down of current events, starting with the drug war thing which led to the:
- Charlie Lynch trial for the medical marijuana debacle
- railroading of a (nother) black family
- Cory Maye case
- factoid that MORE than 1 in 100 adults is in jail (mostly young black men, so relax, whitey… although, make no mistake about it: we are next)
- wackenhut corporation
- children in prison (also reported on Democracy Now)
- many ways you can get to jail
- poker game for charity raid
- dress code for the cops who break into your house and take you to jail for picking your nose while driving (which absolutely should be against the law)
- Police Militarization Rabbit Hole
- reason I don’t hold much stock in voting
- snitch industry that’s gone very very wrong, both in and out of prison, including the
- D.A.R.E. program which, in 2001, the Surgeon General placed in the category of "Does Not Work"
- blackwater (their defensive video is really just as scary)
- mandatory spychip-ping of America
- FDA and Bayer’s selling of AIDS-infected drugs – drugs they were forbidden sell in the USA – overseas
- iraq war (I bought a dvd)
- internment camps (for whom?), Rex 84, Operation Garden Splicer and Operation Garden Plot (who thinks up these names?)
- taking of 400 children from their parents
- coming North American Union or the One World Order (O.W.O., pronounced oh-WHOA)
- rampant police corruption (which is so ho-hum these days, it’s hardly news… we expect it)
- IRS? Don’t get me started…
- well-documented fact that the heat of an airplane or two could not possibly have caused a 100-story building or two to collapse. Or the 47-story Building 7 a block away to drop straight down… although I wish my IRS records had been in there
- ridiculous incarceration of Thomas B. Kin Chong, aka Tommy Chong: 9 months in jail for selling
a bongdrug paraphernalia across state lines… to an undercover cop. Yeah, there’s tax money well spent.
After a brief 20 minute ramble, during which I just had time to run down the list, Barbara was in shock. She asked why I put myself through it? My best answer is that I can at least feel some of their pain. I can know, so when the opportunity to take action presents itself, I can act. For now, the most powerful action I can take, besides saving myself by escaping to Costa Rica, is to share it. Lucky you.
Barbara is fine. Her left brain could not compute and she is fully recovered. I’m still falling, but slowing to a H.A.L.T. I need a break. Life may not be a bed of roses, but it can’t be a crown of thorns, either.
If you need to laugh now, go here.
Special thanks to The Agitator, Reason TV, Reason Online, Brasscheck TV, L.E.A.P., Drew Carey, Brave New Films, all the drug war sites (see the link list bottom left column) for keeping me in freefall. And Ron Paul for pushing. WARNING: only follow these links if you like the feel of falling.