COME TO JESUS
The scales are falling away from a lot of
eyes as many diehard Bushies are beginning to understand a certain Messianic
admonition to beware the wolves who cover their naked ambitions with designer
sheepskins. What brought about this change? Hurricane Katrina was certainly the catalyst, but the
answer is–perhaps– a bit more metaphysical.
I’ll try to
wrap up quickly, but this is an epic story about a war on reality: a battle
pitting image, against image and icon against icon.
From the
beginning BushCo has controlled its public image by carefully manipulating all
associated images. Some examples: covering “naked Justice;” covering
Picasso’s Guernica;
the endless repetition of “9/11”;
conflating Saddam
with Osama; embedding journalists to make them indebted to and dependant on
the troops; Shock & Awe; fabricating
heroes; toppling Saddam’s statue;
destroying an embarrassing mural of George
H.W. Bush in Baghdad; forbidding the media to photograph returning coffins,
or body bags; loyalty
oaths; 1st-Ammendment-zones;
and the careful staging one faked-up
photo-op after another.
Of course the mass-mediated world is too kaleidoscopic to be tamed and you
can’t stifle every story or control every image. But when you’re an expert divider
operating under the guise of a compassionate uniter total control isn’t
necessary. To cast their magic spell BushCo only had to transform “the debate”
over “debatable
realities” into THE ONLY REALITY:
to establish a logical system of support for the infamous query,” Who you gonna
believe, me, or your lyin’ eyes?”: To keep a lazy, convenience-spoiled, and
ferociously DIVIDED nation fighting tooth and claw to
determine what the meaning of the word “is” is.
And along
came Katrina, and—as they say—EVERYTHING CHANGED.
This wasn’t
a Tsunami on the other side of the globe where some rubble-strewn photos, and a
whole lot of cash flung in the right direction can unite freedom-loving
Americans in a rousing chorus of, “We Are the World.” This is our back yard,
and it’s pretty hard to spin away the Mayor of New Atlantis breaking down and
asking, “Where’s the Goddamn support?”
Bush was on vacation
when Katrina hit. When the levees broke and bodies started floating in the
streets Vice President Cheney was also on some sort of double secret non-vacation
vacation in Wyoming. Condi, on the other hand, was tripping the light
fantastic in New York, catching up on her Broadway musicals, and buying
$1000 shoes.
Last week Bush, answering to criticism over
his refusal to meet with Cindy
Sheehan, the mother of a U.S. soldier killed Iraq, told the press, “It’s important for me to go on with my life.”
As New Orleans plunged into a nightmare scenario beyond Irwin Allen’s wildest
imaginings, the President proved he was a man of his word by flying around the
country talking up policy,
and the war in Iraq.
You can’t deny or trivialize a
sunken city and a million homegrown refugees with a story to tell. You can’t
bring Ann Coulter
in to say, “Those Cajuns are whiney little wimps who got what they deserved.”
Our nation’s ability to respond quickly and efficiently to
catastrophe is no longer an abstract
talking point.
Ladies and gentlemen, we are now
leaving virtual
reality.
No misunderstandings, please. I
don’t see this tragedy as some sort of grand political victory—at least not the
kind that any sane, compassionate person could ever celebrate. Still, I’m
inclined to spill a dram on the ground, and call the piper: “Dixie, please… to
a Dixieland beat.”
Want to respond? Send us an email here.
