Guruzilla's /var/log/knowledge-junkie
["the chatter of a missionary sysadmin"]

let them eat... what, exactly?

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Well, folks, it's National Ag Week this week -- those of you who ate food you didn't personally grow can thank a farmer. (And a trucker or two, for that matter.) Of course, lots of those people are low, red-state creatures, lacking appreciation of Cats, the finer points of "King Cowboy Rufus Rules the Universe", or vegetarian sushi. So thanks, perhaps, is not in the cards...

Of course, sanity is no longer required in this country: "Generalised despair has been coupled with other maladies. Early symptoms of paranoia can be detected. For many blue Democrat voters, the 'red states' have become places to fear." (via Spiked.)

Or consider... The Living Terror Of Heartland Life: "My shoddy cellphone, failure to provision dialup, apparent illiteracy, disdain for the locals, and fear of being alone with myself makes the sweet temporary oblivion of sleep preferable to an hour or two of quiet solitude."

Yes, yes, we know who's all for the working poor, and is a Jimmy-Carter-esque downhome farmer, or advocate for labor, who really wants to give you free government goodies like pills, and who's supposed to respect the hardworking people of this country. Unless they get ideas about self-rule, to which all we can say is, "Go back to Jesusland." Know your place, little ones -- Uncle Sam is taking custody and knows what's best!

Perhaps the attitude is understandable -- a type of rush to mold newly-discovered territories into the image of the discoverers, even attempting a kind of economic imperialism and cultural rearrangement. (Of course, in certain quarters, that sort of thing is criticized, but perhaps "that's different.")

I think I have something more to say about parasites and revolution later, but in the meantime...

Ladies and gentlemen, the Talking Heads:

The Big Country

I see the shapes,
I remember from maps.
I see the shoreline.
I see the whitecaps.
A baseball diamond, nice weather down there.
I see the school and the houses where the kids are.
Places to park by the fac'tries and buildings.
Restaunts and bar for later in the evening.
Then we come to the farmlands, and the undeveloped areas.
And I have learned how these things work together.
I see the parkway that passes through them all.
And I have learned how to look at these things and I say,


I wouldn't live there if you paid me.
I couldn't live like that, no siree!
I couldn't do the things the way those people do.
I couldn't live there if you paid me to.

I guess it's healthy, I guess the air is clean.
I guess those people have fun with their neighbors and friends.
Look at that kitchen and all of that food.
Look at them eat it' guess it tastes real good.

They grow it in the farmlands
And they take it to the stores
They put it in the car trunk
And they bring it back home
And I say ...


I say, I wouldn't live there if you paid me.
I couldn't live like that, no siree!
I couldn't do the things the way those people do.
I wouldn't live there if you paid me to.

I'm tired of looking out the windows of the airplane
I'm tired of travelling, I want to be somewhere.
It's not even worth talking
About those people down there.

Goo Goo Ga Ga Ga
Goo Goo Ga Ga Ga

What kind of place is this mysterious land?!

Share on Facebook

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Back to Top

Powered by JournalScape © 2001-2010 All rights reserved.
All content rights reserved by the author.