“The Bosses of the Senate,” a political cartoon by Joseph Keppler. (Image: Joeseph Keppler)
Now I don’t know but I been told
If the horse don’t pull you got to carry the load
I don’t know whose back’s that strong
maybe find out before too long
One way or another
one way or another
one way or another
this darkness got to give …
— Robert Hunter
I couldn’t sleep last night, so I flipped the TV on at 3 a.m. to find something named Peter Popoff peddling small packets filled with “magic holy healing spring water” that, according to a number of provided testimonials, will cure all that ails me. Not just magic, but also holy, and healing, and spring water to boot. In packets, mind you. Not in vials, or cups, or eyedroppers, or ladles, thimbles or goblets … small plastic packets, like what you might get at Burger King, or during a short flight on the worst airline ever imagined. Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has activated the “Blessed Be” light. Please quaff your holy magic packets and place your seats and tray tables in their upright positions. The Rapture will begin upon payment.
We’ve always had snake-oil salesmen, but jeez, it’s getting awfully dense around here these days. Incoming presidential disaster zone Donald Trump just the other day blamed alleged Russian hacking activities on, “You know, this age of computer,” in which we have “too much speed.” We should probably get started hoarding and recopying all the books. Hell, climate scientists are running around right now like hyper-caffeinated chickens trying to stuff as much research as possible into servers residing in other countries, just in case Trump and his merry band of backward brigands decide to take a giant magnet to every hard drive that ever saw a dollar of federal funding. “Wrong!” the magnet will bleat as it obliterates data that could save us all. “Bigly wrong, get ’em out of here, NOT!”
Once upon a time they used to burn books. Now we can just delete them. Ain’t “this age of computer” just…