On the Joys of Anti-Americanism

Americans have a primitive terror of false accusations, reminiscent of the ancient tribes who fled from the Camera, as though it may steal their Soul. (Such tribes now have iPods and have leaped ahead of our understanding of the world.)

One of the greatest narcissistic wounds we suffer is when we are accused of Anti-Americanism. This sad little moniker is almost without meaning. It resembles, in significance and impact, the phrase "poopyhead" used in kindergarten. It is the American adult equivalent of that phrase, the original having lost its puñaza, its ability to cripple and kill our fragile egos.

Note that the terror which Americans feel towards false accusations, is not paralleled in the matter of true accusations. One of our pre-eminent Radio Fountains of Traditional Values has been busted for a narcotics violation. This does not seem to bother his ditto-followers in the least, however, because the accusation is true. The camera cannot steal one's soul, if one does not have one.

So, in this blog, I risk the accusation of anti-Americanism. A lot of what is wrong with the country lies at the feet of We The People, no matter how much we try to kick THAT dead raccoon over into the neighbors' yard. We screwed up, we deserve the punishment.

The habit is to throw the problem over into the Liberal/Conservative neighbors' yards, and accuse them of all manner of atrocities and misbehavior. There is great exercise to blame Barack Obama for the cataclysm which has happened, the harbinger of the cataclysm which is to come. He merely came in as a member of the chorus in the Last Act. The play's been set for a long time now.