Americans sure do like to sell each other stuff: chemicals, tobacca, explodin’ automobiles – it’s all part of them quarterly earnings and profits and such they're always on about on the news shows.
The things they’re tryin’ to sell us these days. The government, the people we pay, they's tryin’ to tell us it’s okay to have some good ole boys in Nebraska count votes for us folks here in Wisconsin.
Hell, I’m a boomer, and we seen some stupid shit, real stupid.
I mean, I remember runnin’ outside on summer evenings through DDT that the City sprayed on us. Were they preparin’ us for ‘Nam? No, they just didn’t like them nasty skeeters. And they killed ‘em good.
Don’t mind that growth on your liver, son.
While the kids were suckin’ down chemicals on the street while playin’ “kick the can,” mom and dad was on the front porch inhalin’ Camel straights. But it was okay back then; doctors said so.
Twenty years on, when mom got herself a job at the Piggly Wiggly, Ford Motor Company sold her and a few other folks some butt ugly cars that exploded when you tapped the rear bumper.
Problem was, when the damn thing blew, mom didn’t have the get up and go she did before takin’ up her pack-a-day habit.
Now our government – the GAB - is sellin’ us that these Cornhuskers have these shiny, new machines – yeah I know it’s a computer, but they tol’ us it’s a special kind – that no one knows how to work but these nice people on John Galt Boulevard, in Omaha – trust them.
|Who is John Galt?|
I mean, look at that nice suit, and those shiny shoes on their salesman, our GAB man says.
So one of my good ol’ boys asks the pretty feller from John Galt Boulevard if he can show us under the hood a that computer, give us a look see at what my friend called “the source code” – the thing that makes that fine machine add our votes?
The feller says he don’t know much ‘bout computers.
Well that don’t sit well with the folks in the room, but the GAB man, a lawyer, which they all is, says, don’t worry your pretty little heads ‘bout no source code, you’re not allowed to see it by law - the computer corporation owns that code.
|GAB lawyer feller|
Well then who owns the dang election, a feisty gal asks? What the hell did my daddy get his self into over there in Normandy and around those parts if we can’t even own our own elections? That’s just not right!
And the GAB man says, we’s done talkin’ but your welcome to play with the shiny machines.
Well I was so upset I got outta that boiler room they had us crowded into, lit up a Camel and high-tailed it in my 1973 Pinto.
And when I got home I looked on the Google machine and I see here that one of the owners of this fancy company is a former REPUBLICAN Senator - Chuck Hagel.
You Democrats, independents, and such don’t mind having Republicans in charge of your ballots – do you? Republicans ‘round these parts have proven themselves to be above partisan politics, haven’t they?
Surely they wouldn’t allow for such petty things as profit or greed to get in the way of how those machines spit out the results?