Scene 2: Icebergs -- where are they when you need them?

Well. No icebergs.



I suppose the gods must no longer abhor arrogance, or else they abhor the arrogance of those who claim to know what they abhor even more. At any rate, there is no reason for the good ship Bush to not steam freely on in full disregard of what may lie on its course. The majority of voters picked W, not because they particularly approved of anything he has done, but in the ultimate analysis, because they approve of who he is (yes, it is true "anybody but Bush" could have won the election -- unfortunately every candidate who showed up was a person). This is known as the "cross-country road trip" criteria -- would you take a cross-country road trip with candidate X? No one the writer knows can stay in a room if W is on the television. Being ambivalent about Bush is incomprehensible (almost as incomprehensible as liking him). Befitting a person who apparently stepped through some unfortunate dimensional rip from Bizarro World,



his execution of "unite" is consistent with the activity those not of the bizarro dimension attribute to "divide". He certainly is bringing organization to the society. We were an amorphous sheet of iron filings, and he, a magnet, fell into our midst. Now, we are more stuck to him than with him. It is not a good feeling.

Till Next time,
Mac Slack

Scene 1: Ship of Fools

A strange dark continent, riven, posed to assume some unnatural position or other. Odd creatures about: the vacillating, conceptually challenged "undecideds",

(Seen here)


and the once plentiful but now threatened species, "Naderitus insaneos",

(Seen here, seated, with administration figures)


victim of a congenital inability to discern ravenous danger from merely stupefying self-interest. Win, lose, or draw, there will be no winners; lose, and there will be only losers. Talking heads spin like Linda Blair. Noxious airs creep over the landscape, green and thick as pea soup, if only they could be seen. One of the leading characters, operating, it seems, from a cave in some godforsaken mountains, is capable of popping up, media absentia, like an unwanted boulder rising in the middle of waterways previously believed charted. Another is convinced. That appears to be sufficient. A third may be convinced, but a pathological propensity to verbal embroidery, coupled with the sense every utterance is vetted to comply with circumstance, leaves this character a bit like cotton candy: possibly attractive, maybe tasty, but of doubtful substance. Strangely, the character with the least dimension -- the one who is convinced -- is the most dynamic of the lot. The wizards surrounding him understand the most magical of things well: they know perception is reality, and are ruthless in casting their spell. Their opponents have always seemed a step behind, their only hope that the convinced and his court appear to believe an iceberg, not hubris, sunk the great ship; they display an arrogance the gods abhor. Many patterns, many elements of the story, indicate their burg may lie just ahead.

The next scene ought to be interesting. I don't recall how many presidential elections I have voted in, but never was there a vote for anyone, always against. That is moderately depressing. This may be the last. Unless someone truly inspiring (doubtful) or truly interesting (Jesse Ventura?) comes along. I'd vote for Ventura, just to see what came next. If anyone believes he would be worse than what we've had, they haven't been paying attention ...


Till next time,
Mac Slack