Hope kicks fear's ass
Back in August I was chastised by one of my favorite people, a 70+ year old man, for referring to myself as a cynic. Okay, then, so maybe I'm not technically a cynic. Call me a pessimist, been around the block, seen it all, show me the money. I've worked with and for the dream merchants, studied the stuff, teach it to eager young hucksters, that's how I pull my weight.
But maybe I'm not a cynic after all. Not enough to be sold a little moonshine, anyway. Because that's what last night's 'infomercial' was -- a brilliant, luminiscent, picture-perfect, tone-perfect piece of mass communication. (Click the link to see it if you haven't; read the comments as well.)
Help me, it was a piece of history. History, right in the making. I have never felt affected in this way by any public figure. (Musicians excepted, possibly, as I hear a familiar voice while I type... I don't know, it must have been the roses...) Things will probably get a lot worse before they get better. But last night, I felt as if they might. Things might get better.
I hope they don't kill him.
But maybe I'm not a cynic after all. Not enough to be sold a little moonshine, anyway. Because that's what last night's 'infomercial' was -- a brilliant, luminiscent, picture-perfect, tone-perfect piece of mass communication. (Click the link to see it if you haven't; read the comments as well.)
Help me, it was a piece of history. History, right in the making. I have never felt affected in this way by any public figure. (Musicians excepted, possibly, as I hear a familiar voice while I type... I don't know, it must have been the roses...) Things will probably get a lot worse before they get better. But last night, I felt as if they might. Things might get better.
I hope they don't kill him.