The Race for the Presidency: The Bathetic Versus Tragedy

Currently, we are witnessing the lawful collapse of an unreal facade in America. While the world hurtles toward  thermonuclear incineration like a patient in a coma, seemingly unable to alter the governing belief in the sanctity of mere fictitious money, we are nightly salaciously entertained by the tawdry send up a la Hollywood of the Presidential race. Newt Gingrich was apparently blithely unaware of his unintended irony when he proclaimed in last night's debate that the media by its fixation on lurid scandal makes it impossible for a serious candidate to enter the race...Ah, but some people will brook any sort of egregious humiliation for fame and mere money. Right Newt? Right Barack?

Oh yes, Barack--let's not forget him as he performed at the Apollo on stage that very same night a bar or two of falsetto. Oh, how many times he must have preened before the bathroom mirror and sung those lines to himself, perhaps with one of his daughters tittering in the hallway. This the man who wantonly sees fit to rip up the constitution to remake America in the image of our only real adversary Great Britain. They have their Official Secrets Act, we now have the NDAA. Habeus Corpus is dead and so with it our Constitution. We should all have Ben Franklin's warning ringing in our ears, except that we are so besotted with bling and circuses, that most of us haven't a clue as to what exactly he warned...Many years ago there was a popular counter cultural comedy troop called Firesign Theater and one of the titles of their albums has presciently come home to roost,as it were: We are All Bozos on this Bus. But now we need off this magic bus so tragically careening into the abyss.