Sunday :: Dec 15, 2019

Playing Along with the Cider House Rules

by paradox

There’s this terrific writer from Florida at Balloon Juice, Betty Cracker, and I’ll never forget how she wrote up the death of her mother. A graceful acceptance of something so very hard, yes, but still a fresh lament for the missed picnics, thank God it’s Friday drinking and card games, the heavy hitters of 4th of July and Thanksgiving, what fun they could have had!

Oh. Certainly not to get on some woe or complaint trip, that’s just never how I looked at or experienced American family things at all. I’d done them, of course, but completely absent the sense of cherished fun, no realization that whatever you thought life was all about surely this was it, small good things with your people, good food and drink, tiny fun and accomplishments in just that day, what in the hell are you worried about with all those political stories, the potential for happiness was right around you all the time!

Ah, happiness. Like all liberals and Democrats I’m hugely distressed at the pathetic state of our criminal national politics, impeachment isn’t some game where the Democrats just threw a touchdown, god no.

I’ve got my observations on the shortcomings of Democratic performance too, generally they aren’t many and the performance was pretty good, but there will always be this background unease and dismay that the cheating of Election 2016 was somehow not officially charged, I will never accept that as okay.

What really yanked my consciousness into new levels of civic distress in impeachment hearings were the performance of the Republicans, oh my god if I never have to see and hear the ranting of Doug Collins again I will have such a better life.

The grossly obnoxious behavior was bad enough, but it was the queasy semi-surreal knowledge this ranting Putin stooge living in a completely different reality of lying Fox news and shining hatred of liberals that depressed me the most. How is it possible a human being could be so lost? Seriously, if I held up a big green card he’d tell me with a straight face it was blue as long as it stuck it to the libs.

How is it possible this ranting liar Collins doesn’t realize what he’s become? He’s doing this wannabe Benito impersonation on teevee, but where’s the big square fur hat and red shoulder boards?

I’m dead serious, Putin cheated the 2016 election with Trump, he extorted Ukraine to cheat 2020 in a cover-up to that core truth, Trump is a plain Putin asset and this traitor to America from Georgia is frantically doing all he can to keep everything in place!

All that screaming from Republicans for 40 years, my god, the Russian commies are out to smash America, now there’s a Russian wannabe Mussolini stooge right there in the American House of Representatives! Did I just really see and hear what I thought I did? Did I go to too many AC/DC concerts?

In all this strumming my ukulele in a blissful mental tiptoeing through the tulips was a gloomy remembrance of John Irving and The Cider House Rules, a very good novel about abortion where a core tenet is the rules and the law are a joke, simply a cover or rationalization for those who can break them with impunity.

Doug Collins and Donald Trump certainly strut around as if the Constitution were nothing but toilet paper, Lindsey Graham and Moscow Mitch Collins more than happy prove John Irving right, but I still desperately cling to a faith that such a flagrant trashing of the law and all this lying could never work, it would smash anyone’s personal life and it cannot work in national politics, there’s enough good in the 2016 House results to keep this faith from being a fantasy.

Still, the day-to-day reality is jarring with that queasy semi-surreal feel to it, let me tell you for this little person the San Jose Police Department and District Attorney of Santa Clara County hold me in no special Fox News reality, heh, every single sentence of the penal code is totally relevant to me and if I break one element my ass in serious trouble, including quick incarceration. I play along with the cider house rules every day, oh yes.

Eventually I always remember Raymond Carver and one of the best short stories of the 20th century, A Small Good Thing. I’m not giving the story away on this one, no way, but I make very sure I do them, yes, in these terrible times it helps a great deal.

paradox :: 7:22 AM :: Comments (0) :: Digg It!