Cue Jim Morrison...and Kenny Rogers.
A little over two years ago we watched new management at the Theater on E Street walk down the avenue in parade, sans cover, and proceed to dismantle what little was left of the heritage from the first steps. We pointed out the lack of wardrobe and the untoward shams being propagated for the audience. Many followed our allegory and contributed to our unveilings.
This morning, a final act of desperation may or may not evolve. If not today, soon. Even in the 21st century, weather still controls us and not the other way around. Should molten debris settle over our national assets, nothing will have been proved by this rag-tag collection of parts, for this is not the machine that is being contemplated for future employment. Likewise, if the corndog is lowered to the serene waters of the Atlantic, it proves only that electricity flows from the red button to the igniter. For that realization, dear taxpayer, you have sacrificed much.
Likewise, corruption has been revealed and will eat its way forward over the coming months. The fact that we have made it to this point at all is the disappointment. A cast of characters led by an ego-maniacal emperor prospered for a time, naked of engineering excellence, innovation, and charm. They have departed the scene, for the most part, but their fingerprints remain.
Viceroys, waiters, broomhandlers, and pony-tails have been replaced by a tearful lot, ironically lacking passion or belly for the job at hand. Perhaps they will lead us (somehow that's not the right word) to some small rock in the sky, long after the last student has lost interest in the art or the accomplishment.
And so, dear reader, with these realizations, we are fast becoming redundant and parody has lost its charm. We did it our way and now we have picked our time. We'll leave the details and clean-up to the rest of the masturbatory scribes as we contemplate a new way forward. It is time for our Tony Soprano moment.
Don't stop believing!
Silence Dogood and the Brothers and Sisters of the Truth
p.s. the Walrus was Paul