A Bridge to Somewhere

As one of our heroes, Rumpole of the Bailey, might say, "Your Grace, we wish to enter into evidence the following Exhibits:"


Exhibit A. Afghan President Hamid Karzai has made a bold admission that he personally receives bags filled with $millions directly from his friends in Iran. "Patriotism has a price," he confessed. Well, he won't win any Patrick Henry Elocution Awards, but at least his admission shows that he might have a future on K Street in DC or in Albany, if he ditches the hat and cape.

Exhibit B. Investors have lined up in a frenzy to purchase US government bonds at -5.5% interest: that's negative interest, Friends.

Exhibit C. NYC's Mayor Mike. he of the $millions spent to allow him to purch.....ah.... seek a 3rd term, opined that NY state voters should now vote in favor of a 2-term limit for everyone else. Asked by a cowering media if this might be a bit hypocritical, he answered that, no, it was not hypothetical at all; he really meant it.

When I was a small boy, hiding under my desk in Our Lady Queen of Martyrs' school during an nuclear air-raid drill, I was taught to fear immanent annihilation at the hands of the Soviet Russians. As it turned out, the Russians self-imploded. All we had to do was wait them out and spend a few $trillion.

Now, we may be tempted to hide under our desks from ourselves.

Am I alone in thinking that our new "friends" around the world, the ones we sent our sons and daughters to free and protect, make old Uncle Nikita look like Santa Claus?

Am I alone in thinking that what passes for leadership today in parts of government and the corporate world makes even, dare we say it, Nixon's values, look good in comparison?

Meanwhile, instead of Walter Cronkite, we get media clowns on the left and right, who give new meaning to the word hysterical, never uttering a single useful, original idea about how to improve things, while making their own $millions.

Even Rumpole could not get us off in the face of all the evidence. Guilty! We pretty much stink at everything right now.

And yet....

.... Is that the sweet aroma of liberation in the air? Isn't it a liberating idea to simply say that we've all been stinking up the joint: left, right, middle: flat-taxers, value-added taxers, no taxers: those who are bankers, in bunkers, bonkers, or bloggers: those too busy branding, bland-ing, blonde-ing, and blinding themselves?

Yes.

In hindsight, it might seem strange, even insane, to have thought that those flimsy desks might have protected a classroom full of children in Forest Hills, Queens from a nuke exploding over Manhattan.

But, was that any more ludicrous than our current use of worn-out ideologies, third-rate opinions, and a thousand forms of entertainment distraction to hide from the eye-blinding fact that we have finally found those weapons of mass destruction right here in our own hearts and minds?

Even if you do go to the polls next week wearing a clothespin on your nose, because of the smelly-cheese choices you have to make, you can feel a little bit better knowing that it's not Hamid's problem, or Mike's, or even Joy and Whoopi's problem.

It's ours. So, maybe we can find a bag of cash  and begin by finally fixing this broken bridge right in our own prosperous back yard.

Thanks. I , for one, feel better already.