Beginning of the End?

Watching the zeppelin of the neoconservative movement burst into flames, tethered to the mooring mast of George W. Bush’s presidency, I experience a shiver of such undiluted schadenfreude it’s like to blew my earlobes off. What joy to see these scheming, lubricious barghests come undone, sinking beneath the hubris of their utter assurance that they alone are blessed with the vision to fulfill mankind’s destiny: to shovel money into their pockets, regardless of the cost to life, love, or the future of the world. May a trillion satanic parrots empty their fetorous bowels on the sleek Italian suitings of these cruel arch-manipulators throughout a sulfurous eternity. When any organism behaves in a manner contrary to the mandates of survival, it perishes. This is the single law of life. So the neoconservatives and their Republican strongmen have behaved, and so they succumb. All well and good. But it’s not over yet. The Right-wing beast is not dead. Do not rejoice until the monster’s head is stuffed and mounted over the fireplace, and even then, keep a fire axe close to hand, and watch its eyes. Because anything that lives on greed, lives forever. It will need killing again before long.

There’s been overmuch crowing on the Left at the misfortunes of the rulership: look, hurricanes and sputtering economies and ill-got wars and evil in all its banal and exotic forms, a once-great nation drowning in its own effluent. Bird flu and cancer, radioactive waste and Chinese capital; we little righteous folk may suffer, but we suffer less for being the least culpable. At least our consciences are clean as we’re flung like bundles of faggots at the feet of the self-martyred burning swine that sought to rule the world. So what? We’re being just as gullible as swing voters. After all, even if the cabal disbands, its members will be richer than the greatest Caesars of Rome, more powerful than all the Medicis and Rothschilds and a gross of King Louies together, even in disgrace. The laws are bent in their favor, the rules loopholed to suit their game; Croesus never had it so good, and the rest of us, besotten on good-on-yer revenge, will continue to eat cold soup out of cans and live three to a bedroom in shambolic obscurity until it’s time to die.

The neocons have won, and won the long game, even if Bush goes down, which he may not. The media loves a comeback story. If Bush cleans house, fires a couple of front men and replaces them with photogenic ringers, and goes on the road, the least penitence will earn him congratulatory spreads in People magazine that would make an actress emerging from rehab blush. A comeback narrative! O joy. O POTUS, promote us. And his poll numbers will go up and he’ll see to it that abortions are made illegal and the IRS is devoted only to harrying the poor and the War on Frightening People goes on and on forever and the loot pours into the coffers of a few corporations with which he’s friendly. Legacy? His legacy is secured henceforth, no need to accomplish more. There is fifty years of work ahead of us to repair the damage done to our republic, and two hundred years of goodwill lost, and five hundred centuries of novelty weather to contend with, and if there is a God, he is big wroth, daddy. I call that a win for the folks that couldn’t care less about such trifles. The rest of us have work to do. For the next hundred years.

For one thing, America doesn’t work properly. We need to fix that. The two-party system has done what all binary systems do: it has settled into stasis. Neither side has much more sway than the other, and so both sides have drifted into the gravity of a larger body, in this case money. Immense quantities of money have caused the so-called Left and Right to enter an orbit around it. A third party would throw the system out of balance, and then some progress might be achieved. Strip corporations of their spurious human rights. That also would help. But whatever else must be done, we must not imagine the fight is over. Winston Churchill, at the Lord Mayor’s Luncheon in 1942, said, “This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” Obviously he was drunk, but the fat lady hasn’t even cleared her throat yet. Semper vigilans, me hearties. The beast lives.

BEN TRIPP is an independent filmmaker and all-around swine. His book, Square In The Nuts, may be purchased here, with other outlets to follow: http://www.lulu.com/Squareinthenuts. Swag is available as always from http://www.cafeshops/tarantulabros. And Mr. Tripp may be reached at credel@earthlink.net.



More articles by:
Weekend Edition
March 23, 2018
Friday - Sunday
Roberto J. González
The Mind-Benders: How to Harvest Facebook Data, Brainwash Voters, and Swing Elections
Paul Street
Deplorables II: The Dismal Dems in Stormy Times
Nick Pemberton
The Ghost of Hillary
Andrew Levine
Light at the End of the Tunnel?
Paul de Rooij
Amnesty International: Trumpeting for War… Again
Jeffrey St. Clair
Roaming Charges: Coming in Hot
Chuck Gerhart
Sessions Exploits a Flaw to Pursue Execution of Meth Addicts
Robert Fantina
Distractions, Thought Control and Palestine
Hiroyuki Hamada
The Eyes of “Others” for Us All
Robert Hunziker
Is the EPA Hazardous to Your Health?
Stephanie Savell
15 Years After the Iraq Invasion, What Are the Costs?
Aidan O'Brien
Europe is Pregnant 
John Eskow
How Can We Live With All of This Rage?
Matthew Stevenson
Why Vietnam Still Matters: Was Khe Sanh a Win or a Loss?
Dan Corjescu
The Man Who Should Be Dead
Howard Lisnoff
The Bone Spur in Chief
Brian Cloughley
Hitler and the Poisoning of the British Public
Brett Wilkins
Trump Touts $12.5B Saudi Arms Sale as US Support for Yemen War Literally Fuels Atrocities
Barbara Nimri Aziz
Iraqi Landscapes: the Path of Martyrs
Brian Saady
The War On Drugs Is Far Deadlier Than Most People Realize
Stephen Cooper
Battling the Death Penalty With James Baldwin
CJ Hopkins
Then They Came for the Globalists
Philip Doe
In Colorado, See How They Run After the Fracking Dollars
Wilfred Burchett
Vietnam Will Win: Armed Propaganda
Binoy Kampmark
John Brennan’s Trump Problem
Nate Terani
Donald Trump’s America: Already Hell Enough for This Muslim-American
Steve Early
From Jackson to Richmond: Radical Mayors Leave Their Mark
Jill Richardson
To Believe in Science, You Have to Know How It’s Done
Ralph Nader
Ten Million Americans Could Bring H.R. 676 into Reality Land—Relief for Anxiety, Dread and Fear
Sam Pizzigati
Billionaires Won’t Save the World, Just Look at Elon Musk
Sergio Avila
Don’t Make the Border a Wasteland
Daryan Rezazad
Denial of Climate Change is Not the Problem
Ron Jacobs
Flashing for the Refugees on the Unarmed Road of Flight
Missy Comley Beattie
The Age of Absurdities and Atrocities
George Wuerthner
Isle Royale: Manage for Wilderness Not Wolves
George Payne
Pompeo Should Call the Dogs Off of WikiLeaks
Russell Mokhiber
Study Finds Single Payer Viable in 2018 Elections
Franklin Lamb
Despite Claims, Israel-Hezbollah War is Unlikely
Montana Wilderness Association Dishonors Its Past
Elizabeth “Liz” Hawkins, RN
Nurses Are Calling #TimesUp on Domestic Abuse
Paul Buhle
A Caribbean Giant Passes: Wilson Harris, RIP
Mel Gurtov
A Blank Check for Repression? A Saudi Leader Visits Washington
Seth Sandronsky
Hoop schemes: Sacramento’s corporate bid for an NBA All-Star Game
Louis Proyect
The French Malaise, Now and Then
David Yearsley
Bach and the Erotics of Spring