A radical under ever bed November 5, 1985

 

 

Election Day.

 I actually voted libertarian in protest, and no on every spending bill.

I guess I’m reading too much stuff on the 1960s.

Living in a Polish neighborhood and voting against American institutions might be seen as treason.

Fortunately, for the person that tabulates the vote there is a libertarian on the ballot. I wouldn’t want to give the poor old fool a heart attack by casting my vote for a communist.

Unfortunately, the Marxists are just as bad, preaching bullshit nobody can believe.

With my luck, someone would call for a lynch mob. As it is, most will just call me a kook and tell themselves I’ll have committed suicide by Christmas so as not to have to bother about me.

Where are the good old days when some right-wing fanatic called this a communist plot and called for a senate subcommittee hearing to expose me? These days, I expect as much from the left leaning nuts in Congress.

Politics would put a good radical to sleep.

I’m sure the FBI still looks under every bed sheet for plotting organizations, and I’m sure there are some in both right wing and left-wing camps.

Big Brother never tires of seeking hidden enemies so it can keep on being Big Brother and snooping into people’s bedrooms like the perverted little peeping toms they are.

And it gets confusing, too, when the right-wing people are as unhappy with the government as the left wing are – and they got their own guy Reagan elected.

The left wing, I understand, want to bring back the good old days when we could manipulate the sappy, brain-dead middle class into protesting. It hurts to think that the crowd we once controlled and got to go anti war and anti-nuke is now anti us.

But the world has changed, and Reagan is creating an even more fundamental change in the way we all think, making it seem that the far right is now the middle, and anyone like me who looks even remotely leftist is a terrorist.

What he’s done as president will resonate through generations so that no one can get elected later that is remotely left – at least not what I would consider left.

The change is to the fabric of America, and thanks to him, we will see a lot of things reversed that we thought irreversible. Not just by him. He’s just building a foundation upon which even more radical right-wing nuts will build a firmer institution into which all of will be committed – an institution that will seem logical, even as it guts all those rights that we take for granted. We won’t get any big dictator the way we had with Hitler, but a pack of little dictators who lead mob rule, and will dismantle the Constitution word by word, brick by brick so we are forced to live in whatever house they build for us, and you can bet that house will have bars on the windows, and guards that doors.

Maybe I just threw my vote away. But I’ve come to the conclusion Republican and Democrat are meaningless labels when they both are trying to out do Ronald Reagan at being Ronald Reagan, when that’s the last thing I want.



email to Al Sullivan

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

An old nemesis December 11, 1985

Image
    Surisky hated me from early on in grammar school, although “hate” may be too strong a word to describe his reaction to me. I was simply available to him for abuse, Third grade was pivotal for both of us. Prior to that, we were simply feeling our way through Catholic School routine, emerging eventually as whole personalities from the muck of early childhood. He came across as a thug, trying to convey the image of a tough guy. He wore a leather jacket and spiked boots, and snuck into see James Dean movies. Third grade was tough on everybody, including the teachers, who considered us the worst class in the history of the school – even in the safe grades of Kindergarten, First and Second. Two of the three nuns retired after passing us on. But it was in the third grade that we began to work our magic, driving even the stout-hearted nuns crazy. Later, the nuns tried to break our spirit. But we fully represented our age and had the full impact of the 1960s behin...
Read more

The clock is ticking July 18, 1985

Image
  We’re talking love here – silly fictional love with all the connotations of disaster. I seem to be on the meat chopping block with Safire looking for qualities in me that are lacking in her husband. The fact that there is a husband in the first place greatly disturbs me. All this said, I’m uncertain as to why I haven’t ended this already, except to know she is too much like my ex-wife to pass up without a closer examination. Even the way she thinks: slow, methodical, going from point A to point B. It has only been a week since she blurted out drunk that she wanted me in bed. It seems like much longer. And she hints of something more permanent, suggesting that I might fill in for her husband for a much longer duration. The night before last she suggested I come see her in her trailer, as if she is legally separated from her husband, when in fact she is supposed to be biding time until he finds them both a place to live in Baltimore. This is the same kind of smoke and...
Read more

Pauly leaves Passaic for the final time July 24, 1985

Image
    Pauly is leaving Passaic again. This comes after two years of us rubbing shoulders after he had been cast out of paradise in Towaco, after his goddess, Jane, went and married that man Pauly calls “a bum.” This has been a tough two years, filled with Pauly’s typical manipulation, his usual shaping of reality to his own needs often at other people’s (mine) expense. When Pauly first came I had Fran’s cultist brother as a temporary guest and Pauly spent most of his time trying to push me into getting that guest out. A few months later – in November – Fran got the ax from her ex and changed her mind about moving in with me after I had committed the spare room to Pauly. He assumed she meant more to me than he did and was already packing when I told Fran no. She had no place to go except for her father’s house, a father she had a love/hate relationship with, and she held it against me, even though we continued to see each other romantically. Pauly being Pauly drove ...
Read more