My City Was Gone
I dreamed I was dying, I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me, smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying, and high up above my eyes could clearly see
The statue of liberty, sailing away to sea, and I dreamed I was flying
But we come on a ship they called Mayflower
We come on a ship that sailed the moon
We come in the ages' most uncertain hours and sing an American tune
And it's alright, oh it's alright, it's alright, you can be forever blessed
Still tomorrow's gonna be another working day and I'm trying to get some rest
That's all I'm trying, to get some rest
American Empire replicates Greek Tragedy. You have your Hercules, your Jesus or Buddha, your Jack Tales... and these are analogies used to comprehend immense concentrations of power and interest which reign over us commoners. When a great system is ready to collapse along comes the ultimate incompetent leader, or leaders. Capitalism has been an intense evolutionary driver for about 500 years that has enabled tragic concentrations of riches and authority and nearly overwhelmed the natural environment necessary to sustain life on Earth. Everybody knows this, either intellectually or viscerally, even dopes like Rush Limbaugh, Mitch McConnell and Donald Trump.
A microcosm can be an instructive truism. Consider Limbaugh's chosen theme song: "My City Was Gone." (Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders 1982):
I went back to Ohio
But my city was gone
There was no train station
There was no downtown
South Howard had disappeared
All my favorite places
My city had been pulled down
Reduced to parking spaces
A, o, way to go Ohio
Well I went back to Ohio
But my family was gone
I stood on the back porch
There was nobody home
I was stunned and amazed
My childhood memories
Slowly swirled past
Like the wind through the trees
A, o, oh way to go Ohio
I went back to Ohio
But my pretty countryside
Had been paved down the middle
By a government that had no pride
The farms of Ohio
Had been replaced by shopping malls
And Muzak filled the air
From Seneca to Cuyahoga falls
Said, a, o, oh way to go Ohio
D-jay Rush has probably never analyzed this content, but only rocked to the powerful crescendos and throbbing baseline, thinking it was all about himself. Described here is the cost of economic growth and the demise of cultural content in Cincinnati and surrounding Ohio. She returns home and finds the Folk dead, and she is able to describe her astonishment in a comprehensive and coherent manner with three verses and two distinct musical hooks. In order to sympathize with the account listeners must agree that the "American way of life" always contained the "seeds of its own destruction." Rush is correct to call himself an entertainer because even with a tin political ear he exudes schmaltz.
Trump knows about and admires sadistic totalitarian leaders, from Mussolini, through Pol Pot, right up to Duterte. Trump relishes that rush of kleptomania the naughty pre-teen feels when she exits CVS with a vial of over-priced make-up and knows she has gotten away with it. Trump's vanity and sense of destiny are such that he must hide his school records and medical files, though he may withhold his tax returns for legal causes. But now almost 74, his theatrical devices are tawdry and decrepit, and his mind is even the worse for wear and neglect. Greeks (ancient) might surmise he's at the end of the hubris bus route.
So when a degenerate freak (stable genius) recommends his base inject Lysol we are not surprised. The long con is decapitated but the ruse persists. Trump wants to take as many courtiers as possible into the pyramid (scheme) tomb with him.
People like a cruel joke now and then but were never so stupid. The ceremonial wars of the Maya are a distant memory yet the descendants are still there making gardens and driving trucks. Well, except where extractive development has destroyed the ecology, as in Ohio.
It is reckless accumulation and concentration resulted in the degenerate Trump impasse. Libertarians accuse the disadvantaged of failure to plan and foresee, but they dare not accuse the Elites of the same failings, though that is undeniable. Now all of humanity is reduced to praying for miracles, as Trump does over Covid19, and we, over Climate Collapse and Fascism (Neofeudalism). Great Houses in a nihilistic morass cannot help but continually Feud, at great cost to the general population. (I really never enjoyed the ritual warfare of Billionaire franchised sports very much. Neofeudalism.)
As with ground zero after a tornado it is normal to scavenge and dig for bodies. We'll find old Sloppy Joe Biden in the broken cherry tree and piece him back together like Dorothy Gale's scarecrow. Selfish Bill Gates will bankroll a flawed vaccine and most will accept it. But the smartest of us will know that complexities will stymie great plots and there are many hidden pitfalls. People from this time will always be humming "American Tune" (Paul Simon 1972)
Many's the time I've been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and often felt forsaken
And certainly misused
But I'm all right, I'm all right
I'm just weary to my bones
Still, you don't expect to be
Bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from home
And I don't know a soul who's not been battered
I don't have a friend who feels at ease
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered
or driven to its knees
But it's all right, it's all right
We've lived so well so long
Still, when I think of the road
we're traveling on
I wonder what went wrong
I can't help it, I wonder what went wrong
And I dreamed I was dying
And I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me
Smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying ... (go to top)
Superdeposition may have ended but there's archaeology. The old city is gone and we begin a better one even in the shadow of a threatening spire about to tumble.
I dreamed I was dying, I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me, smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying, and high up above my eyes could clearly see
The statue of liberty, sailing away to sea, and I dreamed I was flying
But we come on a ship they called Mayflower
We come on a ship that sailed the moon
We come in the ages' most uncertain hours and sing an American tune
And it's alright, oh it's alright, it's alright, you can be forever blessed
Still tomorrow's gonna be another working day and I'm trying to get some rest
That's all I'm trying, to get some rest
American Empire replicates Greek Tragedy. You have your Hercules, your Jesus or Buddha, your Jack Tales... and these are analogies used to comprehend immense concentrations of power and interest which reign over us commoners. When a great system is ready to collapse along comes the ultimate incompetent leader, or leaders. Capitalism has been an intense evolutionary driver for about 500 years that has enabled tragic concentrations of riches and authority and nearly overwhelmed the natural environment necessary to sustain life on Earth. Everybody knows this, either intellectually or viscerally, even dopes like Rush Limbaugh, Mitch McConnell and Donald Trump.
A microcosm can be an instructive truism. Consider Limbaugh's chosen theme song: "My City Was Gone." (Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders 1982):
I went back to Ohio
But my city was gone
There was no train station
There was no downtown
South Howard had disappeared
All my favorite places
My city had been pulled down
Reduced to parking spaces
A, o, way to go Ohio
Well I went back to Ohio
But my family was gone
I stood on the back porch
There was nobody home
I was stunned and amazed
My childhood memories
Slowly swirled past
Like the wind through the trees
A, o, oh way to go Ohio
I went back to Ohio
But my pretty countryside
Had been paved down the middle
By a government that had no pride
The farms of Ohio
Had been replaced by shopping malls
And Muzak filled the air
From Seneca to Cuyahoga falls
Said, a, o, oh way to go Ohio
D-jay Rush has probably never analyzed this content, but only rocked to the powerful crescendos and throbbing baseline, thinking it was all about himself. Described here is the cost of economic growth and the demise of cultural content in Cincinnati and surrounding Ohio. She returns home and finds the Folk dead, and she is able to describe her astonishment in a comprehensive and coherent manner with three verses and two distinct musical hooks. In order to sympathize with the account listeners must agree that the "American way of life" always contained the "seeds of its own destruction." Rush is correct to call himself an entertainer because even with a tin political ear he exudes schmaltz.
Trump knows about and admires sadistic totalitarian leaders, from Mussolini, through Pol Pot, right up to Duterte. Trump relishes that rush of kleptomania the naughty pre-teen feels when she exits CVS with a vial of over-priced make-up and knows she has gotten away with it. Trump's vanity and sense of destiny are such that he must hide his school records and medical files, though he may withhold his tax returns for legal causes. But now almost 74, his theatrical devices are tawdry and decrepit, and his mind is even the worse for wear and neglect. Greeks (ancient) might surmise he's at the end of the hubris bus route.
So when a degenerate freak (stable genius) recommends his base inject Lysol we are not surprised. The long con is decapitated but the ruse persists. Trump wants to take as many courtiers as possible into the pyramid (scheme) tomb with him.
People like a cruel joke now and then but were never so stupid. The ceremonial wars of the Maya are a distant memory yet the descendants are still there making gardens and driving trucks. Well, except where extractive development has destroyed the ecology, as in Ohio.
It is reckless accumulation and concentration resulted in the degenerate Trump impasse. Libertarians accuse the disadvantaged of failure to plan and foresee, but they dare not accuse the Elites of the same failings, though that is undeniable. Now all of humanity is reduced to praying for miracles, as Trump does over Covid19, and we, over Climate Collapse and Fascism (Neofeudalism). Great Houses in a nihilistic morass cannot help but continually Feud, at great cost to the general population. (I really never enjoyed the ritual warfare of Billionaire franchised sports very much. Neofeudalism.)
As with ground zero after a tornado it is normal to scavenge and dig for bodies. We'll find old Sloppy Joe Biden in the broken cherry tree and piece him back together like Dorothy Gale's scarecrow. Selfish Bill Gates will bankroll a flawed vaccine and most will accept it. But the smartest of us will know that complexities will stymie great plots and there are many hidden pitfalls. People from this time will always be humming "American Tune" (Paul Simon 1972)
Many's the time I've been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and often felt forsaken
And certainly misused
But I'm all right, I'm all right
I'm just weary to my bones
Still, you don't expect to be
Bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from home
And I don't know a soul who's not been battered
I don't have a friend who feels at ease
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered
or driven to its knees
But it's all right, it's all right
We've lived so well so long
Still, when I think of the road
we're traveling on
I wonder what went wrong
I can't help it, I wonder what went wrong
And I dreamed I was dying
And I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me
Smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying ... (go to top)
Superdeposition may have ended but there's archaeology. The old city is gone and we begin a better one even in the shadow of a threatening spire about to tumble.
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