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?
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.
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.
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.
Like Rooney's secretary, who sits in her perfunctory post pulling pencils out of her hair, so do the networks in order to keep up with the Joneses. The liberal media, famous for making stars out of parasitic activity, aka, the "revolution" being televised, honors some of the highfalutin statements made by their opposition with such an overwhelming response, it's down right embarrassing. Talk about throwing more fuel on the fire. And this includes the slow and steady drone reported in last week's New York Times about the president's town-hall tour, dismissing Ferris's bipartisan efforts as mere career choices and leaving the reader with the suspicion that with the one finger they've got pointing at him they've got ten pointing back at themselves. It's a travesty that with the cutbacks and unemployment rate these so-called reporters still have their jobs.
In the Debate Club, Those on the Right have tested this theory well into practice. Despite an identity crisis following a disastrous presidency that should've had them silenced in misery -- at least for a little while -- they have rebounded advantageously over the Left. Wrong or right, they seem to be the group of fast learners. No wonder they have entitled themselves full scholarship to any school of their choice. Team Left has shown a perfect record of doing just the opposite on key issues, debate after debate, election after election. No matter what analysis du jour they come up with, it is lost on the American student body and evaporates into hot air. So-called progressives are off their gourd seen knitting sweaters at the Netroots conference, as they put a man like Arlen Specter on the spot. When instead, they should take cues from him. Who, at least, has the common sense to stand up -- with his chemotherapy and all -- for his party, no matter how long he's been an active member. Or what the current status of his vital signs is. Americans have proven time and time again to welcome a comeback.
So as the liberal outcry proves to be a mere display of how incredibly enamored they are by the sound of their own voice, rather than, say, grow a pair, it's certainly warranted when the Valedictorian of the right wing, Ann Coulter, is having loads of fun scrawling "PANSY" on liberals' lockers. Her creative euphemisms all over the school hallway are there for all to see. And pretty soon, they stick. Nobody calls them by their real name anymore. No matter how seriously they may now take themselves, when all's said done, and we are afforded some hindsight, that'll be the name floating in their classmates' heads at the class reunion.
The bully mentality may often get a passing grade because of that ostentatious, that put-on "confidence" mistaken for brutal honesty.
But what have we learned in
psychology class? What lesson do we note about the bully long after graduation?
Those days of daily torture were a mere...
Anyone? Anyone?
A mask for...
Anyone? Anyone?
His own...
Anyone?
Damaged...
Ego,
Right.
Now apply the same idea to the subject of Civic Religion, where Ferris will be tested through the run of his presidency. The greatest trick the devil ever played is to convince the world he didn't exist, right? And right now right-wingers are masking their impotent congressional power with self-righteous indignation by turning up the heat to a full on heist of the family jewels: Our national language.
With such intolerant rhetoric one can't help but wonder what god some of these "religious" folk pray to? What version of the Bible are they reading to brand out such a cold-hearted Jesus?
Which is one of the questions posed to Ms. Coulter by one Young Republican at a speech for the Young Americans Foundation a couple of weeks ago. Someone at an airport saw the questioner, reading one of Ms. Coulter's books and said to the young lady,
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