Foto by tgw, "The Oldest Building on Broadway," New York City, 2012
The Whitest of the Whites
I couldn't watch it. The Republican clown show that is. I hit it several times Tuesday night as I channel surfed. Once I saw Rick "Man on Dog" Santorum making a speech. I shuddered and then quickly sped on by him. Then I checked on Channel 13, the PBS channel, and, dammit, they were showing the whole clown show. I saw some jellybean-looking guy standing on this jumping-off-platform making a speech. I didn't listen to what he said. Instead I just looked at the audience as the camera panned around the hall. White on white people everywhere. White people galore. White people around some old White fool and his shriveled up White wife. I didn't recognize him. They showed a gaggle of overweight White women wearing cowboy hats. They were all smiling and nodding. The jellybean-looking guy was sputtering away spouting something about family. He wasn't getting much applause. The White people in the audience were just gawking not applauding. One group of Whites were holding home-made signs that read "We Built It." There was no explanation what those signs were referring to. The enormous debt this country's in perhaps? No, these jerks blame that on Obama. The endless war in Afghanistan maybe? No. There was no talk of the wars. It was the anniversary of Katrina and the destruction of New Orleans; perhaps those signs referred to the levees that broke and flooded the lowest parts of that old city. "We Built It." What had the Republicans, the White Party, built? I surfed on looking for something more edifying to watch. There was nothing. I gave up and took my 20 pounds of dirty laundry over to the laundry I use on 30th. Fifth Avenue was packed with people. A lot of young White girls--sprite all-Whites and Asian White girls-- wearing shorts. Older White families I assumed were tourists. A bunch of younger men each with backpacks on their backs. What do these White people carry in these enormous backpacks? Then a Chinese bus pulled up on Fifth Avenue and a whole lot of Black folks bailed out of it onto the sidewalk. Black folks ride this plethora of Chinese buses that have invaded my neighborhood. My building has a Chinese bus station in it now. Buses to Albany, New York. Buses to Baltimore, Maryland. Buses to Wilmington, Delaware. Scores of Black people waiting all day long morning, noon, and night on the sidewalk outside my building for these buses that seem to come lumbering by every 15 or twenty minutes.
Back from the laundry, I surfed the Web awhile. Checked out Buzzflash. Read where Ron Paul's people had caused a riot at the Republican Convention. Turned on my television to see if I could see the riot but nope, there were just more of these yee-hawing white-on-white White people smiling goofily. Then suddenly, the star of the evening showed up. Big, huge, fat, blubberboy, Chris Christie, and there was a big sign being held up by the New Jersey delegation declaring Blubberboy "America's Governor!" And there he was. Fatter than ever. And in his little boy voice he started hooting about love and respect and something his mother told him about how you have to have respect before you can have love. All of these White Repugs have these wise mothers. I remember Richard "I Am Not a Crook" Nixon used to talk about his sanctified mother. I immediately thought of Philip Wylie's "Momism."
Philip Wylie wrote in his Generation of Vipers (1955): She [Mom] is Cinderella, the creature I discussed earlier, the shining-haired, the starry-eyed, the ruby-lipped virgo aeternis, of which there is presumably one, and only one, or a one-and-only for each male, whose dream is fixed upon her deflowerment and subsequent perpetual possession. ... Meanwhile, Megaloid momworship has got completely out of hand. Our land, subjectively mapped, would have more silver cords and apron strings crisscrossing it than railroads and telephone wires. Mom is everywhere and everything and damned near everybody, and from her depends all the rest of the U. S. Disguised as good old mom, dear old mom, sweet old mom, your loving mom, and so on, she is the bride at every funeral and the corpse at every wedding. Men live for her and die for her, dote upon her and whisper her name as they pass away, and I believe she has now achieved, in the hierarchy of miscellaneous articles, a spot next to the Bible and the Flag, being reckoned part of both in a way.
And big fat Chris Christie started babbling on about his mother explaining to him that love was nothing without respect. And I'm thinking, what the hell does that mean? And then Chris says the Republicans aren't about love they're about respect. And I conjure up that means love is welfare and respect is rugged individualism and bums who depend on the government for their well-being the Republicans don't love or respect. And then big fat Chris Christie starts championing his governorship and how he's had three straight balanced budgets in New Jersey and where his predecessors, Democrats, I assumed, raised taxes 100-plus times on New Jerseyans, he lowered taxes and blah, blah, blah. I'm thinking, hey, why didn't your moms tell you to do away with all taxes! Which is maybe Gordon Norquist's philosophy. Let's do away with taxes. That will do away with government. It will put the largest workforce in the USA out of jobs and in the street. The largest workforce? U.S. government workers.
I turned off my television. Looks like a coming Winter of Discontent.
for The Daily Growler