With teenage fervor, I could recite the entire leadership of The Democratic National Committee. For my state, I had prepared a database of local, county and state representatives, attributing each of them a score from my own formula of voting record, party allegiance and punditry praise and condemnation.
All of this research was conducted and compiled in an age of newspapers and magazines, a time before iPhones and broadband, of a nascent, unobtrusive Internet delivered weekly to your mailbox on AOL cd disks. I would even venture into town, visiting the library, which, even then, was a mausoleum of odiferous decaying paper and ink, shelves lined with books written by mustached men of defunct publishing houses.
As I grew into my twenties, that Democratic Party database transitioned from handwritten notes and newspaper clippings to a more sophisticated spreadsheet on an IBM PS1, eventually ported to some now quaint Hewlett-Packard Windows based-PC, where during the transition of file extensions, that once precious database of names and positions, was reformatted into unreadable hieroglyphics of code. Did I undergo an excruciating, carpal tunnel retype of that file?
Because, at that point in my twenties, I had gained life experience, work experience, had allowed myself an objective--and, yes, a post-9/11, slightly conspiratorial tinged—view of The World. I realized, just like history and human nature, Politics was cyclical, a series of issues continually recycled and rebranded so it could exploit a new generation of voters.
Politics exploits the confusion, pain and uncertainty of being human, that need for structure and assurance. We’ve been led to believe we’re weak, unreliable creatures incapable of such an esteemed philosophy as Politics, so we must defer to those of specialized knowledge, those bestowed with law and political science degrees, or MBAs…or Leaders.
Those experiencing separation anxiety—which, sometimes evolves into red and black-flagged anarchist violence—from The Hip, Cool President, fail to realize that those of my age elected America’s First Hip, Cool President: Bill Clinton. Yes, In 1992, The Sax-Jammin’ President with an affinity for suicide scandals, cigars and chunky interns, ushered in an accelerated age of Globalist Crony Capitalism and asset-stripping de-industrialization. (Subsequent President’s failed at reviving The Economy, no matter what The Fed and Economic Roundtable Suits proclaim. Because, let’s be honest, all those fuckers are making money!)
Of course, just like today, in Trump’s America, a valiant, moral opposition was led against the Clinton regime. A gray-haired, pugnacious Newt rallied The People to the words of his Contract, stirring a populace Republican revolt, and eventual, humiliating attempts at impeachment.
Anyway, by 1999, at a Globalist confab in Seattle, a loose affiliation of what media punditry can only term as anarchists, were beaten, gassed and arrested by black armored police as they protested the increasing Crony Capitalist consolidation of planet Earth. This plucky group of anarchists were derided by The Crony Capitalist owned media conglomerates as GenX slackers bored of their Pearl Jam who were nothing but a bunch of coffee-house-anti-capitalist, anti-globalist--
Oh, look, A Presidential Election!
Yes, 2000 was The Hanging Chad Election, another divisive and harrowing period of American Democracy, the entire country tilted near oblivion because of it’s archaic mechanisms known as The Popular Vote and The Electoral College, which confirmed—then, reconfirmed in The Election Of 2017—that the plebeians must be barred from voting.
But, the outrage and squabbling soon vanished:
It was an obliterating experience of the physical, psychological and symbolic.
The aftermath was muted, paralyzing panic, which was quickly soothed by the Gods Of War and Surveillance who vowed to inflict revenge against any and all deemed to be the enemy.
9/11 exacerbated an already fragile and failing economy, which led to the hysterics of 2008 when Wall Street threatened marital law unless they got a big fat bail-out lollipop. Three years later, in 2011, entrenched in Zuccotti Park New York City, another loose affiliation of anarchists agonized over the consolidation and collusion between Big Business, Big Banks, Big War And Big Government…
But, Politics should have solved all of this, we’ve been led to believe. These dueling duopolies of Democrats and Republicans in some eternal battle like that of Yankees versus Red Sox or Celtic versus Rangers, all of it for our beloved Country and its…children.
Everything is Political! Is the jarring screech of The Millennial generation, as it attempts to reduce all human knowledge and experience through distorted lenses of Blue and Red Politics. Few will argue or dissuade the idea of Everything Is Political, as it’s, well, just great branding.
An entire ecosystem relies on this branding message for profit and survival.
Yes, these 50 States Of America and Washington D.C., with their great marble buildings of Politics, whose corridors and offices are not only comprised of our favorite Statespeople, but also their coterie of gurus, analysts, spin-doctors and other assorted hustlers of all things Political. Such people also require legions of administrators to confirm appointments with those striving, corporate-shills known as Lobbyists, Bankers and other assorted parasites of the political class.
Oh, those old marble buildings that symbolize the structure and assurance of our Politics?
They’re tended to by a benevolent and under appreciated maintenance staff, who, just like our distinguished Statespeople, are protected by a formidable security team.
See that, Libertarians and Anarchists? That Stateless world you advocate, would eradicate thousands of working-class blue collar livelihoods.
And just blue collar jobs? Oh, no. Why, think of the million dollar salaries afforded to sorority girls and handsomely bland Ivy League gents who’ve graduated to teleprompter reciters for The Three Letter Networks, all of them trained to feign sadness and self-righteous anger while debating Politics with some nauseating, bloviating Pundit.
Yes, The Pundit! My, Gawd. Can we even consider the economic devastation that would occur within the expert community if Politics were vanquished? Are The Young even able to recall a black and white yesteryear of televised debate? Those studios veiled in cigarette smoke as erudite, Buckley-esque gentlemen of eminence wrestled with the conscious of Politics, distilling the moral and historical implications of Political Philosophy?
No, today, The Three Letter Networks have a carousel of curated Advocates, Activists, Leaders and Influencers who blather from scripts written by Fellows and Scholars at various interconnected Foundations and Institutes who promote all the relevant Political Isms and, of course, War. Discourse, is passé, outrage must be produced, so it can be hash-tagged for The Social Media Age to be shared, viewed and politicized.
I just mentioned all those venerable Foundations and Institutes who employ hordes of thinkers, scholars and fellows, but let’s no forget all the Think Tanks and NGOs who afford even more activists, advocates and allies blue check-marked profiles on social media to engage in the Politics Of The Day, all of them garnering attention from The Dying Print Media of newspapers and magazines…the original media purveyors of Politics.
What about Public Radio? You know, that Three Letter Station favored by the bespectacled, meek intellectual-artist-academic class sitting in the offices of their New England Private Liberal Arts Colleges sipping tea, forever devoted to the soothing, wispy voices of public radio opinionators…
Why, I don’t want to even consider the devastation of losing my favorite Three Letter Station!
I almost forgot Academia, huh? They’ve been cranking out generations of Dying Print Media journalists, writers, editors and scribblers whose careers and families are all dependent on yet another column, book and, if they’re lucky, a blog or freelance article, on one of the many big monied internet sites that stoke our national conversation of politics.
And now, in 2017, with the explosion of #TheResistance, a new generation of Alt-Media personalities with blogs, Tweets, YouTubes, Instagrams and podcasts can upend The Three Letter Networks and Dying Print Media. If your outrage is throat searing enough, the whole Patreon scene is quite lucrative for those who don’t want to compromise. That is until Big Brother Internet censors or demonetizes your Truthspeaking.
Yes, Politics is a vast, incestuous, hierarchical ecosystem predicated on power and profit, no different then the monolithic Corporation that employs you. It serves and rewards only those dedicated to perpetuating Politics, that illusory struggle for virtuous supremacy that’s been waged on this Planet for generation after generation after generation…
If you really want to #resist, resist any and all Politics.
Starve the beast.