I’m driving into the future. I can see the Iowa Caucus in my rearview mirror. Soon it’s fallen below the horizon line except for some stray bunting and balloons that waft up on the thermals of resident emotion and soon they are gone too.
I’m driving into the future. It should look different than the landscape I’m passing and which I assume to be the present as I arrive in it but nothing looks different; not the present- in continuous fade in the rear view, not the scenery on either side and nothing about the road ahead signifies anything new either. Now this may just be a result of driving through Iowa where everything always looks the same no matter what direction you are going in but… I don’t think so.
I’m driving toward New Hampshire. It’s up ahead and even though it is distance that separates me from it, it is also time and so that put’s New Hampshire in the future; not for the people in NH who may be sharing this present moment with me but only for me who has not arrived in NH yet.
Some things are following me out of Iowa. They seem to be fueled by some unknown power source. These things are the self-propelled buzzwords that hummed like bees all around Iowa and being no ordinary kinds of bees also managed to slip into media inlets of radio and television where they buzzed on the screens and through the speakers. I heard ‘hope’ and ‘change’. I heard ‘faith’ and several other things. When seen on the screens of blue-lit televisions shining out of the windows of American living rooms they looked like Lucky Charm candies dancing in air.
I’ve heard other buzzwords over the years, ‘compassionate conservatism’ and ‘no nation building’ and pretty much anything that could buzz because the buzz was the thing. It was the sizzle not the steak. That’s why Obama looks good at the moment because of all the sizzle. People figure there’s got to be some steak nearby.
Over at Hillary’s they seem to be making hamburger. Joe Biden’s people made hash and so did a few others. Hucklebee’s people made a lot of that traditional American dish of Pie-in-the-Sky and they served it up on endless plates to the relentless imaginations of one large crowd of people who believes that life begins after death and that sex should be painful to begin with, not just in the birth process which is the only reason for it to exist and which must be circumscribed by the razor-wire fences of marriage under Big God holding pie.
It looks like things are warming up for another great American tradition called “Same Old Same Old.” This is a dish best served lukewarm and topped with a secret sauce that never tastes the same but always gives you the runs.
The best way to sell Same Old Same Old is to make it ‘New and Improved’. It’s true that if it’s ‘new’ it can’t be the Same Old Same Old and if it’s ‘improved’ it can’t be either. Never fear though, it’s neither new nor improved. They only say that to get you excited about the Same Old Same Old.
The way it works is that there are always new people coming into the process for the first time so that it hasn’t had a chance to look like the Same Old Same Old yet. On the other end are those who have lost their grip on reality and they can’t tell the difference between what used to be and what is. They’re lucky they can find their way back home from Walmart to begin with. They do vote however. They vote the same way they wet themselves, automatically according to some idea about life whose origins and meaning now lie shrouded in the mysteries of the past. In between these two groups lies the group in the middle. They’ve seen the Same Old Same Old Before but if they have to really think about what that means they might not get the chance to make it to the latter group where they don’t have to worry about remembering whether they’ve seen the Same Old Same Old before because they won’t remember.
There is a fourth group that is a source of ongoing annoyance to all of the other groups and these are the people who don’t like the Same Old Same Old and have the tin foil hat idea that they’re going to change it into something else. The good news is that the other groups collectively outnumber these freaks and pretty much feel that they can kiss their Same Old Same Old asses and shut the hell up.
All of these groups can hear the buzzwords with the possible exception of the old Same Old Same Olds who don’t really need to hear anything anyway because they stopped listening with any degree of attention a long time ago.
There’s a curious phenomenon that’s been going around lately and that is the only thing I’ve seen that isn’t the Same Old Same Old as usual. This phenomenon involves speculation on the part of the fourth group; those who don’t like the Same Old Same Old, that any candidate who speaks out against the global elite and corporate world rule is actually in the employ of these people.
Recently I’ve seen all sorts of articles that attack the few candidates who may not be a part of the Rockefeller CFR/Bilderberger Globo-Octopus world enslavement crime ring as actually being secret members of this ring and it seems to me that no matter what anyone says anymore; no matter what their life history may state, no matter what their record of activity shows, no matter what they have and have not done they are still shills for the crime ring.
It seems to me that if you grabbed someone off of the street in Port Au Prince and ran them as a presidential candidate (providing you could) that it wouldn’t be more than a week or so before certain counter-culture blogs and alternative news sites began to say that they were Neo-Nazi party members and life members of every suspect organization on the planet.
There seems to be more energy being put into this sort of thing right now than all of the other candidates who are identifiably members of one or more of these suspect organizations under whatever name they hide their allegiance to the Same Old Same Old.
If a guy is pro-life he is suddenly anti-woman. If some one is for a Palestinian State he’s actually a front man for the Zionists. If some candidate wants capital gains taxed and the estate taxes put back into order he is sure to be the secret lover of Bill Gates unborn daughter and a Coca Cola heir with ties to the Parker Ranch in Hawaii.
It appears that you can’t win for losing and it sure sounds a lot like the Same Old Same Old to me. I don’t know what to do if it turns out that everybody on the planet, whether they are running for president or running for the toilet, happens to be a representative of some dark cabal of blood-sucking aliens. According to a lot of occasionally truthful blogs and self-proclaimed truth sites this appears to be the case. I’m beginning to feel like I live in David Ickes stash bag. I am beginning to feel like I really don’t know whether to shit or go blind and fearful that both have already happened.
I’m still driving. I’m somewhere near Duluth about now. The buzzwords are still there outside my window… ‘Hope’, ‘Change’, ‘Faith’. What’s that mean? “I hope I can change into a girl named Faith?” That would definitely not be the Same Old Same Old for my mother when she hears about it; which she probably won’t because she’s in that old Same Old Same Old group.
So let me see… I guess it all means that no matter who gets elected we’re mostly screwed, especially if it is someone who actually brings hope and the promise of change and has the faith in himself and what he has accomplished to pull it off, instead of the usual candidates who keep mouthing the words and whom I know to be lying or just incompetent. Yep… it is the Same Old Same Old and it’s new and improved too. I don’t think I’m going to New Hampshire at all. I’m going to make a swing north to Toronto and I’m just going to keep on going until I don’t see or hear any more buzzwords or candidates or anything but trees and snow. I’m going to keep on going until there are no more roads and then I’m going to start walking till I can’t walk no more… until the emptiness around me reaches for ever into the same old same old- but new to me- and I’m going to just disappear into the white reaches of nothing and count myself better off than you.
Listen to: Fade Away