
“America has become a dildo that has turned berserkly on its owner.” — Thomas McGuane, in “A Chat With a Novelist,” by Jim Harrison
The leaders and participants in the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge occupation got off scot-free yesterday. And if you had been following the occupation via TV and thought you saw crimes being committed, well, who you gonna believe — a jury of your alleged peers or your lyin’ eyes?
I’m thinking the wrong lawyer got tased after that verdict.
I’m also thinking that as long as these activities appear to be sanctioned by The People, I might just occupy a little feddle-gummint territory my own bad self, starting with the Denver Mint. And if any lesser authority should happen to complain about my collecting a few, um, souvenirs, well, I’ll just explain that they are sacred images of my ancestors.
Whoops, looks like that sacred-ancestors argument doesn’t work so well when made by the wrong kind of Americans. I like my pepper on the plate, not in my eyes, and delivered by a smiling server instead of a Terminator driving a tank.
Can we get a change of venue for all these cases? I’m thinking maybe Oregon.
Meanwhile, finally, something upon which all Americans can agree: Dark chocolate sucks.
Even so, it tastes miles better than some of the stuff we’ve been fed lately.
