Maureen Dowd exposed herself in Sunday's New York Times, laying bare for all the world to see the kind of world in which she thinks she lives:
It didn’t take long, sitting with an enthralled audience and watching the saga of the cloistered jerk who betrayed those around him and ended up unfathomably rich and influential, to understand why it has been hailed as a masterpiece.
The enthralled cohort with whom MoDo sits will be revealed soon enough. That a tale of this type is "hailed as a masterpiece" says at least as much about the hailers as it does the saga. This is the kind of tale the enthralled hailers can sink their teeth in; that they can relate to. Ticket prices range from $221.00 (each) to $742.00 (each) for a Sunday show. The price ranges for Wednesday are more "modest", $147 - $666.00 (the mark of the beast - they ought to know better when they price these things). Curse you cloistered jerk, betrayer of all those around you! (But, bless you too, for showing us that we can end up unfathomably rich and influential, for reaffirming, in other words, that greed IS good.)
It unfolds with mythic sweep, telling the most compelling story of all, the one I cover every day in politics: What happens when the powerless become powerful and the powerful become powerless?
So, THIS is the every day and most compelling story of all that our intrepid Mo relentlessly covers? Exactly which of the politicos about whom Mo written were powerless first and then became powerful? George W. Bush, the son of a U.S. president and grandson of a U.S. senator, whose fortune was made in buying into the Texas Rangers baseball team for a $600,000 and selling his share for $11,000,000? John McCain, son of an admiral and grandson of an admiral, who divorced his first wife after her auto accident to marry in the family fortune of an Arizona bootlegger? Seems more likely that she is thinking here of Bill Clinton, born poor of an alcoholic father, who by dint of intellect, charm, and hard work rose to become governor of Arkansas and then President of the United States. And then fell from grace, although, (don't you know - the Whitewater thing, sex with the intern, travelgate, etc, etc, etc).
Au contraire, ma cher. These were powerful people before you first wrote about them, and powerful people even now that you have written about them. There is a ruling class in this country. They are part of it.
This is a drama about quarrels over riches, social hierarchy, envy, theft and the consequence of deceit — a world upended where the vassals suddenly become lords and the lords suddenly lose their magic.
Vassal? As in, a person who "A person who held land from a feudal lord and received protection in return for homage and allegiance," or "a bondman; a slave," or "a subordinate or dependent?" That kind of vassal? These are the people you write about Mo? Well, most certainly the ones about whom Mo writes are almost invariably one possessing money, power, fame or celebrity. To Mo, some of them may look like vassals, but that wold be Mo's world. A place very much divorced from reality.
Vassals? Cloistered jerks? OMGIH! This is the language of the courtier class, those whose status derives from and is dependent upon the favor of the ruling class.
We are always fighting about social status, identity, money, power, turf, control, lust and love. We are always trying to get even, get more and climb higher. And we are always trying to cross the bridge to Valhalla.
Who is this "We" who are always fighting about social status? Hint: I know mine. It is low class. Who is this "we" who are "always trying to get even, get more and climb higher?" I'm happy to get a little forgiveness; to be able to share an honest conversation with a friend who disagrees, and perhaps even vehemently with me, but is willing to talk it through. And who is this "We" who are always trying to cross the bridge to Valhalla? The people I know are mostly happy to get through the day and be able to spend some time with loved ones.
"But the passions that drive humans stay remarkably constant, whether it’s a magic ring being forged or a magic code being written."
This one, I agree with. But in my world, the passions are simpler. A few years ago a South African singing troupe sang at our church and a call went out to the congregants to provide them lodging. We were blessed to be hosts to two of the young men. The very first thing they wanted to do when they settled in was to get on the computer to check, first of all, the exchange rate between the dollar and their currency, and secondly, to see how their local soccer team had done. We watched TV after dinner. They picked the music awards, after all, music was their business. Two delightful days to enjoy their company, to find so many things we held in common.
Here's poem that explains about all we ever need to know of the American War upon the People of Vietnam.
Making the Children Behave
by W.D. Ehrhart
Do they think of me now
in those strange Asian villages
where nothing ever seemed
quite human
but myself
and my few grim friends
moving through them
hunched
in lines?
When they tell stories to their children
of the evil
that awaits misbehavior
is it me they conjure?
Parents everywhere want their children to behave. Sometimes they tell them stories to frighten them in behaving. Sometimes, soldiers have insights. Horrific insights. Questions get asked. And the power of the ruling class, and its attendant courtier class is undermined.
There are children put to bed, hungry in America. There are parents, working parents, who lose a job, and have to decide how to allocate a 60% reduced household income. There are retired people, those of "the greatest generation" who have to decide which medications they will have to cut back on, because even with Medicare Part D, they can't afford all their meds.
There are children in the 7th wealthiest zip code in America committing suicide at a rate four times higher than the national average, for their age group.
"Social status, identity, money, power, turf, control:" Fights about these issues are reserved for the lucky ones unto whom social status, celebrity, money, power, turf and control have been rendered. Most of us are not so lucky. Which may well be fortunate, for most of us.
MoDo speaks for herself, and her cohorts; her courtier class. Such people, are very much different from you, and very much different from me. Too much time on their hands, too much money; too much solipsism.
