Colors... Pretty...
So I'm reading this story about these three old people (ranging in age from 46 to 62, which I realize isn't all THAT old, but certainly too old for this) laid a rope across a road, tied one end to a tree, then waited for some guys on motorcycles to come by, pulled the rope taut and clotheslined a bunch of them off their bikes. One dude ended up in a coma.

After I stopped with the inappropriate laughter (it was the Wile E. Coyote imagery that got me, not so much the coma... although, come on, comas are hilarious), I started thinking: this situation is not unlike the current American political climate, metaphorically speaking. Or hell, maybe even literally for all I know. I've only been to DC once, so I can't attest one way or the other to the frequency of cross-road rope near-decapitations as a political tool.

Anyway, the point is, it got my inner political cartoonist fired up and sent me straight to MS Paint.



See, the President thinks he's just cruising along on a beautiful spring day, but what he doesn't know is that his enemies, shrouded by the deafening political noise of what's looking like a potentially momentous mid-term election cycle, lie in wait.

You'll note the actual obstacle, the potentially damaging rope strung across his otherwise pleasant and pothole-free path, is supported, passively, by the political influence and legacy of the Religious Right (the tree) and the lack of opposition in the legislative branch, which is filled with Republicans who want to be re-elected but are faced with an historically unpopular party-leader. It is against these sturdy, well-rooted bases of unwitting resistance that a triumvirate of enemies prepare to use the president's penchant for political tone-deafness against him. Note that the Democrats here are represented by the woman off to the side, looking sort of scared and lost. She lets the other two do the work (immigrants holding the rope, doing the manual labor again and Guys With Beards, an underappreciated political force, glower and provide muscle) while she waits, not doing anything herself but praying it will work so she can jump up and steal the precious, precious Dirtbike of State when it is violently vacated.

That thing in the back is a mountain. I forgot to label it. Or maybe its size and grandeur can represent the backdrop inverse of the president's miniscule approval numbers. Or maybe it's just a mountain.



This post on the Narcissus Scale: 8.5



Pops
- posted by Pops @ 11:01 AM