( – promoted by buhdydharma )
When politics gets to a point where there is no reality and we the people are only offered a story written by and for the villain with one face, politics becomes poetic faith. Our choice is between two sides of the same face. We emotionally invest in the choice believing that the pols we’re offered are going to win the day for we the people. We expect the reality of oppressive governance to end, everything will be groovy, and hopey changiness
will once again rule the land of the free and the home of the brave. Yes we can!
As a story goes, the one we currently find ourselves embroiled in, is a real potboiler. After years of a truly villainous dark regime replete with tales of torture, endless war, a scorched earth, destruction of the laws that kept tyranny at bay, and humanity reduced to global slavery for useless profit, the other side of the face offered us hope and change. We voted for hope and placed our power as a people in the hands of a man who said what we wanted to hear, he sang our song. They proclaimed it a bloodless transition of power. They told us we were the change we had been waiting for. We are.
A new face is put on the same tyranny and the same plot just continues. We await the next installment hoping that this time the hero will prevail and the ending will be different. This version is prettier and the chosen hero wins and slays the fiery dragons that threaten to fall on us. We are convinced that the political narrative is reality based and to use our power for anything that alters the outcome is not pragmatic because the fictitious storyline that got us here is the reality we have accepted, it’s inevitable. Our own history and sacred documents are twisted to an end that validates our powerlessness. We are not.
Here we are in the fierce urgency of now arguing about the heroes and villains, the fine print in our contract with our hero, the degrees of our slavery and the threat of the scary monsters waiting in the wings if we don’t except the deal the fiction offers. The storyline and reality are ceded to the writers of this political fiction. We’re locked into the plot they have written for us. ‘Willing suspension of disbelief’ requires a quid pro quo, and there is none. We need a rewrite and new writers, perhaps a collaboration with some good editors. We can keep the song, the lyrics were catchy.