Tuesday, May 03, 2005

What To Do About Stuff: An Important Editorial

It's not as though things haven't been going bust, and for quite a while, too. People clutch my lapels (for those without access to my lapels, slightly soiled ones are for sale, and modestly priced, too, so get with the program and contact me, either at home or elsewhere) -- As I was previously intoning, people clutch my lapels and blubber: "X has happened. It's horrible. What are we as consenting voters in a mature republic to do? More importantly, how did this revolting development come to pass without our having the remotest clue? Most importantly of all, why, oh why, did we not listen to you, who have been selflessly and brilliantly addressing these very questions for many years now, or at least it seems like it?"

These are all good questions, albeit ones that scarcely redound to the credit of those asking them. At least they have come around. Many never do. And, in the great paradox of intellectual endeavor, it is ever true that those we need most to reach with our message of hope, sobriety, analysis, and vital importance, are precisely those to be too stupid, aliterate, and without significance to give a good goddam. We might wallow in rectitude, in the self-affirming glow of having been Right All Along. But, necessary though such interludes are to my readers and to the social fabric at large, we cannot wallow overlong. Better to wallow overshort than to still this my voice that, like a talking doll dropped from a car speeding through Death Valley, cries in the wilderness.

I see I have your attention now. About bloody time.

As many of you know or will shortly know, I need defend none of my qualifications. Indeed, one might with justice view with skepticism the qualifications of those who pretend to have sufficient qualifications to challenge mine. Many have tried. Like the rock, I remain. Like the wind, they just blow.

I spend a great deal of time. I expend vast amounts of sheer intellectual energy. I search the great writings of the ages for evidence of sagacity that approaches my own. I formulate problems often written off as insoluble by the few who can even comprehend them, and I generate vast and sweeping solutions. I amaze myself when I take a few moments off from taking my brilliance for granted.

This much we know. Doing nothing is its own alternative. Stepping smartly to the fore with a crisply delineated plan for action on all fronts is what is needed. This is what I offer. This is what professional idiots ignore, to their eventual sorrow. (Or what ought to be their sorrow, were it not for their persistent megalomania.) We need to look away from these embarrassing frauds, and towards the laughable ones on the horizon. We ought to move, and move quickly, but not at the expense of our sense of proportion, our compass of propriety, our moral bank balance, and our comfort when, at last, we come to rest.

Before this can happen, though, something else must happen. This hope above all you must cling to, sort of like my lapels, which are moving rather quickly, so order now.