Discombobulation in 3/4 time....Cha Cha Cha

Freaky-Deaky
Helter-Skelter
“The Madness of King George”
Lost in the shadows of your own mind
The inmates are in charge of the asylum
Hoist on one’s own petard

Strange to think of a couple books, a movie, and a few old adages when thoughts of our lives today rear their heads, but there it is. We’ve grown very strange, existing in a weird twilight where vampire-like, disturbed and diseased blood calls us witness the disturbing diseases of our times. There is a sad madness loose in this world and it’s being induced by our political leaders and people who should know better.

There is no sane or valid reason for us to seek perfection in anything. We are, after all, only human with age old limitations to our hearts and our brains, yet too many people today think they know best for everyone else. Too many people see themselves as authorities or ‘deciders’ on the most critical issues of living in this world, yet at the same time they deal only with the most frivolous and emotion-driven inanities of existence. Where survival of our species and our planet should be the primary deciding factors in any decision, humans get hung up on the tiny accoutrements, the unimportant and silly details, the non-essentials and the ridiculous.

First, humans create unnatural rules for all living things, and then become flummoxed, angry or confused when everything can’t fit nice and tidy into those little pigeon holes they dictate. Unable to admit there are things in this world that defy logic or easy answers, they nudge, mould, shave edges, push and frantically fight to fit square pegs into round holes, ignoring the waste of their energy and emotions on childish things.

We have a world filled with pain, the chronic excruciating pain associated with severe illness, yet when medical experts recommend something to soothe that pain, like marijuana, it is disallowed by the self-righteous who are against most things, but particularly ‘illegal’ drugs. There are medical groups specializing in pain management who can legally prescribe drugs such as oxycontin to help, but the DEA thinks such prescribing heralds drug kingpins, and thus, such clinics and the doctors involved are taken to court and convicted on drug charges. Let Anyone in Pain Suffer seems to be the name of their song – cha, cha, cha.

We have funding for stem cell research languishing. In May 2005, the House passed a bill providing such needed funding, a far wiser use of our money than is usually the case with any politician, but single handedly, Bill Frist has kept that bill off the Senate floor where passage is guaranteed because he prefers massaging the fundamentalist vote in his desire to run for President. And the man is supposedly a doctor. If it Quacks Like a Quack, It’s a Quack is the name of his song – cha, cha, cha.
Just in the last couple days, Republicans in the House have been ranting and threatening because the FBI conducted a search of Rep. William Jefferson’s (D) office in a bribery case. Their excuse for such righteous anger is that the Executive branch can’t be allowed to disregard the Constitution in any way that infringes of their rights. Ironic that it took a direct threat to their egotism to complain about something the public has been complaining about for a couple years – and that the Executive branch has been doing for about five years. The name of their song is Trample the Common Man, But Don’t Tread on Me – cha, cha, cha.

The world is in crisis. The immediate threat of environmental disaster due to warming seems to pass over most people’s heads so quickly and quietly that it doesn’t even ruffle their hair, but they know how many times Brittany Spears has mishandled her baby. The on-going threat of nuclear proliferation grows daily, especially with Iran and North Korea, yet that fades in magnitude next to the nail biting tension of who will be the next “American Idol.” Ho hum, it’s Just Another Day in Paradise. cha, cha, cha.

How long does the list need to be before most of us realize that the band is playing on? When will the bill for the piper come due? Put on your dancin’ shoes, little mamma, then grab your partner and – cha, cha, cha. We’re suckers for loud music and may soon be dancing on our own graves.