Cast Party

I've come to the conclusion that the world needs a therapist. It has way too many problems, and I'm sick of living with it. Sadly, the "sane world" store is only open on Smundays, which is actually a good thing because if there were other worlds available the liberals would have already seized them and started talking smack about their atmospheres.

Like, for real? Your stupid ozone layer isn't broken, you just forgot to plug it in.

And speaking of the realm of environmental fanaticy (yes, I just coined a word), if you're worried about the trees, why don't you just go plant one? Get out of my face.

Poor America. We need a therapist all to ourselves. Like a cosmic Dr. Phil.

Or, we could all get a life and take charge of our country because we have a whole world on our shoulders and it's a little too late to be pretending nothing's wrong. And, like I said, it's a long time till Smunday, and while the Earth is definitely not going to get barbecued by lack of ozone, we might blow it up ourselves. And there's not a new one out there anywhere. (Except for wherever the liberals came from.)

For example, Obama called a debt ceiling meeting a while ago with congressional leaders. Oh, my mistake, he called two. One with the Democrats and one with the Republicans, to talk to them individually about working together.

Just a thought, but as far as working together goes, being in the same room might help. But what do I know? I'm just a concerned American citizen (and part-time unlicensed Internet therapist for the world at large).

This is getting very, very old. You know those movies where everything works out in the end and people don't get obliterated by the sheer might of evil?

This isn't like that.

This is like one of those movies where the main character is staring at post-apocalyptic Earth and thinking eloquent, productive thoughts like, "Oops." To paraphrase. This is like one of those movies that makes you feel sick, so you throw up in your popcorn bucket and dump it on the bald guy in front of you, starting a fight and possibly burning down a small-town, double-screen movie theater that wouldn't have made it in this economy anyway. This is like one of those movies where you take off your 3D glasses and--oops--you were in the movie the whole time, but you sat there in your comfy theater seat, confident that there's always a happy ending (and if there isn't, you can get a refund). But there are no refunds. There are no happy endings for the compliant seat-watchers.

We were going to give out complimentary tissues at this therapy session, but all household items are now being rationed due to the fact that the system sucks.

Do I sound radical? Do I sound crazy? Do I sound like I drank too much coffee during a Glenn Beck marathon? Do I sound like all of the above?

Bravo. You've just learned the art of noticing something.

Notice anything else?

Like the fact that our elected officials--Democrats and Republicans alike--are running around Washington like chickens with their heads cut off (not that they needed them anyway)? Like the fact that the rest of the world isn't blind and if they aren't peeing their pants right now because their economies depended on ours they're laughing their butts off because they've figured out how to replace the dollar as the world reserve currency as soon as the United States takes one more step toward the edge? Like the fact that we're wasting our time on these silly, pointless things while people are out there dying for our country, and all we can do for them is have "meetings" and hope something "productive" happens? Like the fact that we have no idea who we are and no idea where--or if--we'll be in ten years because we were never ones for the long-term, were we? Like the fact that, as much as we pretend, this debt ceiling "argument" is just the cherry on top of one enormous ice cream cone that's going to kill us all?

And if that's not how it's going to go down, then tell me. Tell me we'll pull through this. Tell me that even if Congress and the White House do nothing, we'll still pull through 'cause that's America's thing. Tell me you can't taste the desperation. Tell me you can't hear the thunder rumbling in the distance. Tell me we don't need to do anything except get up for a refill on popcorn and enjoy the show.

And if that's what you're telling me, if that's what you're saying, then FINE. Enjoy your movie.

Don't hold your breath for a sequel.

But you might want to take a look at the prologue.

Act I, Scene I. People are persecuted. They cross the sea, looking for freedom.

Act I, Scene II. People want to explore the world. They cross the sea, looking for new life.

Act I, Scene III. People are oppressed. They fight back.

Act I, Scene IV. People WIN.

Act II, Scene I. People have no idea what to do, now that they've won.

Act II, Scene II. People draft the Articles of the Confederation.

Act II, Scene III. The Articles of the Confederation fail miserably.

Act II, Scene IV. People come together to discuss and deliberate over what the heck they're going to do now. They don't speak to the press. They don't speak to the people. They are the people. And they make choices.

Act II, Scene V. A Constitution is born, and people discover that they are people first. And the people second.

Act III, Scene I. Bad stuff happens. People, with darker skin, want freedom.

Act III, Scene II. People fight. People are divided. And a house divided cannot stand. (Ahem.)

Act III, Scene III. People win. People come together. And people discover (rediscover?) that, the way things should be, being people and being the people should co-exist. They should be one.

Act IV, Scene I. Many things have happened, and now the people are in the midst of a Depression.

Act IV, Scene II. During these times, the people still hope, still work. But there is a growing separation between "people" and "the people." Now, it seems "the people" means "the few who decide what people get."

Act IV, Scene III. Over half a century later. People have long since emerged from the Depression. Or have they? Are their minds still mired in what happened in those days? The choices that were made, the precedents that were set?

Act V, Scene I. People struggle to remember the beginning, and struggle to see beyond just a few years ahead. Things are dark.

Act V, Scene II. Everyone

Sits

Down

For

A

Movie.

The script ends there. There are no directors or producers or fancy cameras to edit out the bad parts, the parts where we mess up.

There. There's your therapy. I may sound more like a nagging mother with a political complex than Dr. Phil, it's true.

But SUCK IT UP. I'm not a therapist.

Because a therapist, I've decided, isn't what we need.

What we need is already here. (See Act II, Scene V.)

It's all up to us. Every one of us.

So, as I said before, enjoy your movie.

See you at the cast party.

This Is Why We Fight

The 4th of July. What kind of images does that statement prompt? Waving flags? Red, white, and blue sequined top hats? Parades and fireworks? Hot dogs on the grill, afternoons at the beach, Americans celebrating who they are?

If you answered yes to that, kudos. If you answered no, you might be who I'm talking about.

Because at my 4th of July parade, amidst the veterans and the flags and the marching bands, there was also a group of people shouting. "Peace! Stop the wars!"

Dear fellow citizens, obviously, we would stop the war if we could. No one wants to fight. No one wants to die. Everyone wants peace. But you can't just say you want peace and leave it at that. It's not that easy. You say you're working for peace, or marching for peace, or protesting for peace.

Yeah, well, we're fighting for peace. Because we want it that badly.

Is the American Revolution included in the "wars" you want to stop? Because the American Revolution is still going on, every day. It's what started us, and what keeps us going. And guess what gets in our way? (Ahem.)

The 4th of July is for celebrating America. Slamming our foreign and military policy, not so much.

Because, cupcake, war is a fact of life. It's a fact of existence. And if you don't think that's true, you should learn a few things about your fellow humans. It doesn't mean it's right to fight. But you know what would happen if America didn't fight? We'd be annihilated. And you'd get your peace. You'd rest in peace. If that's what you want, then go for it. But go for it somewhere else, because the rest of us are busy defending our country, whether at home, or as the soldiers you berate.

Do you have no gratitude at all? For the people who risk their lives just so you can live in a country where it's okay to bash them for it? For the people who miss their families at Christmas, the fathers who miss their children's birthdays, the mothers who worriedly wait for their son's call because they're off in a war across the sea fighting for you? Fighting for your peace?

You know what? I bet that the men with amputated limbs and the boys who watch their friends die and the people who never make it home and die in POW camp or alone in a field or a forest somewhere, I bet they want peace as much as--or more than--you do. I bet they wish they could see their families. I bet they wish they didn't have to fight. I bet they wish there was no such thing as war.

And this is why we fight.

Look out the window at the nearest American flag.

This is why we fight.

Look at your children, your parents, your friends.

This is why we fight.

Look at the beautiful, spacious skies, the amber waves of grain, the purple mountain majesties above the fruited plain.

This is why we fight.

Look in the mirror. Look around you. Now close your eyes and imagine being anything you want. Being safe. Being peaceful. Being free. And realize you are.

Realize that this is why we fight.

I could never understand the courage of a soldier.

It's something I turn over in my mind all the time. You're putting your life on the line day after day. You're watching your friends die around you. You're separated from your family, not sure if you'll even live another day to see them through a computer screen. You're working tirelessly, faithfully, day and night, through all kinds of conditions, whether it's raining water or bullets. And you're there. You're there. You're right there, in the middle of it, and you don't pee your pants or run or hide behind someone else.

You stay.

And not only do you stay, you fight.

And not only do you fight, you win.

You win a victory for us every single day. Every day, whether you live or you die, whether you fight or you fall, whether you talk to your family for the first time in weeks or go another night without them, you win a victory for us with every day that you fight, with every day that you stay, with every day that the enemy falls and with every tired step you take in the name of your country--in the name of us.

There is nothing more deserving of praise. There is nothing more deserving of recognition and honor. We never did anything for you. And you fight for us. For our safety. For our pride. For our freedom.

And I wonder how you do it, day in and day out. How you're strong enough, brave enough.

And then I realize that this is America. (thank you)

Land of the free. (thank you)

Because of the brave. (thank you)

Thank you.

To all the lost soldiers, to all on their way home, to all that still strive for peace on foreign battlefields...

America thanks you.

Happy 4th of July.

You are why we fight.

The Falling House

So there have been calls to raise the debt ceiling or else things will get "bad."

Um, unless you can elaborate on that, you've already given us bad, it's already bad, it's still getting bad, so it seems like not raising the debt ceiling wouldn't be that much of a problem.

There is a problem, though (weird, right?), and that problem is this: There are all of these "or else" type threats floating around, but no one is telling us what will happen if we DO agree to raise the debt ceiling. How will it benefit us? How will it benefit my children, and their children, and--if children haven't been outlawed by then--their children?

We are America. We've been through "bad." We've been through worse than "bad." We were in a war with ourselves. I mean, come on. That's about as "bad" as it gets.

So stop threatening us with "bad." We want results, not threats and excuses.

Because if there's one thing I know, it's that when you raise the roof, the house starts falling apart. There's a strong foundation, but the walls are cracked and unstable.

And you want us to blow the ceiling off the place?

Like I said, we are America.If you have a problem with that, please take it up with a representative at our offices in Somewhere Else.

This is, thankfully, the sentiment of most sane Americans. (And luckily, the quantity of sane Americans has been growing as of late.) There is no clear consensus in Congress, either. However, there is talk that this might not matter. Because there is talk of--wait for it--reinterpreting the Constitution (gasp) in a manner that would allow Barack Hussein Obama, current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue (indefinitely, until we find a President) to bypass Congress and raise the debt ceiling himself.

Wow. It seems like you'd need to be pretty strong to raise a roof. You'd need to have a lot of power to raise a roof. Wouldn't you?

Wouldn't you indeed.

And here I am, sitting in my living room, blogging. Here you are (all two of you), sitting there reading this blog. Sitting. Blogging. Reading. A couple of angry remarks at the state of things, and then, look, our favorite show is on.

As we sit in our living rooms, do we realize that the house is falling?