Late Night: Some of Us Still Remember . . .
Edith Wharton . . .
Everything seemed strange, ominous and unreal, like the yellow glare that precedes a storm. There were moments when I felt as if I had died, and woken up in an unknown world. And so I had.
The political culture in this country has gone beyond strange, it has gone beyond ominous, it has gone beyond unreal. We can’t say it’s corrupted, we left corrupted behind 30 years ago, we left it behind when the Gipper hit the right turn signal, took the Oligarch Exit onto the Road of Ruin, and threw away all the maps. It’s hard to say where we are now, we’ve been hauled through so many event horizons by Mr. Thousand Points of Light, and the Big Dog, and The Decider, and the Wonderful Wizard of Compromise that I’m not even sure what universe we’re in anymore.
What we are seeing now, promulgated by a conservative bubble machine that has built a self-sustaining universe around itself, is political opportunism married to an active campaign of disinformation. The people making a profit out of it are people who are too lazy to mug old ladies or swindle the blind. The people making a profit out of it are people without consciences, people who are as free of patriotism as they are free of the inconveniences of having a soul. They are dangerous propagandists. They are peddling poisonous lies and putting people’s lives at risk. Every journalist who treats them as anything else, and every politician who treats them as anything else, are actively abetting evil.
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home? [cont’d.]