Pages

Friday, May 26, 2017

Words worth.

I'm still not sure this is a good idea. The memory of the last time we tried this still haunts me. And that Morlock with the sandals never answers my postcards. And yes, I've been dropping them down the hole. Jesus!

Okay, so someone, I won't say who (Mitch), thought it would be a great idea to do a second subterranean tour, since we now have the equivalent of a superhighway to the chewy nougat center of the Earth. Mitch plans to fashion some kind of urban gondola (very popular in small post-industrial cities these days) that will allow us to treat the mega-hole in our floor like a kind of futuristic cargo elevator. I don't remember where I heard this, but it seems like this mode of transportation might be problematic, to say the least, particularly when you're dealing with magma and other natural hazards.

Mitch isn't worried, of course. In his world, there's a mad scientific fix for everything. That must be a nice feeling. When stuff goes wrong for the rest of us, we have little to fall back on other than playing instruments and/or writing songs, and maybe playing a few rounds of mumbly peg. (That doesn't usually help, but it does give us something to strive for, since none of us knows how to play mumbly peg.) Everyone needs some kind of solution. For Marvin (my personal robot assistant), it's a seven percent solution of machine oil and antifreeze.

Yeah, that looks like a maybe.Why does songwriting help? Don't know, exactly. Ask Matt - he's more prolific than me by a mile. As I've said before, he comes up with songs while walking the length and breadth of his rural domain, composing them out loud like a latter-day Ewan MacTeagle. Me, I take forever to crank out a few lines. My muse is like an old, rusty typewriter with an even older ribbon, very parsimonious and begrudging of every line. Even so, if we do undertake this underground tour, we should have plenty of material that hasn't been heard down there before. Nothing the middle-Earth denizens hate more than old, recycled material.

So, yeah, we'll consider it. Though God only knows why.

Middle passage.

Trump was on the road this week, touching base with traditional allies, shaking his fist at traditional foes, making occasional awkward statements and non-sequiturs but generally doing what is expected of him as official high protector of the empire. Amazing how quickly even a low-intelligence loose cannon like "The Donald" will snap into place when there are longstanding economic and imperial ties in play.

At the helm of the Death Star. Who knew it was in Saudi Arabia?Much as he criticized Saudi Arabia during the primary campaign and even the general election, it was all smiles and bows and the dangling of manly swords when he arrived in Riyadh, not to mention threats against Iran and its embattled Shi'a allies in Lebanon, Bahrain, Yemen, Syria, and elsewhere. Then there's the humongous arms sale, allowing Saudi to continue the bloody Yemen adventure that Trump will not mention but can't stop funding with U.S. taxpayer dollars. (My money's being used inappropriately. Someone call Mick Mulvaney!)

I have to think that the institutional elites that most benefit from the imperial profit machine probably don't much mind Trump as a foreign policy president. His ignorance very likely is, in their eyes, his most positive attribute. The man knows nothing about any of the regions he is likely to visit as president. That means he can be steered into preferred policies by his aides. He is the proverbial empty vessel, even more so than George W. Bush was - at least Bush had some vague sense of his own objectives and a team of fanatical, experienced bureaucrats to fill the void between his ears. With Trump, there's none of that. He's truly at sea.

Empire abhors a vacuum, and so the absence of leadership is filled with the priorities of the forever-state. This is not a conspiracy theory - every empire that has lasted as long as ours has a structure of governance and self-perpetuation. It's that great self-driving car, running over people of color by the thousand in thirsty pursuit of the next filling station. That's why the pieces all fall into place, and the policy stays within certain boundaries, sometimes jiggling a little leftward, occasionally lurching to the right, but never crossing the line.

When I say "never", I mean other than that one time with Dubya Bush when his reckless war-making tested those limits and brought on the correction we saw in 2006 - one of the most amazing periods in recent history. I suspect Trump's correction will come from some other quarter, but I guess we will see.

luv u,

jp