Thursday, September 23, 2004

Hell in a Handbasket

I wish I could post the original "Peanuts" comic that I have on the front of my refrigerator.
It is of Charlie Brown and his sister Sally on the school bus. Sally asks: "Is this the tour bus to Stonehenge?" Charlie replies: "No. This is the regular school bus that goes to Pinecrest Elementary School every day of your life." Sally says: How did I get on the wrong bus?"

I feel like Sally a lot. We snidely refer to going to hell in a handbasket, but it feels like more than that to me. It feels like W.B. Yeats amped up on meth. My otherwise successful coping devices fall by the wayside. I'm a woman raving.

Over at Moon of Alabama (a Whiskey Bar offshoot), the poster alabama says: "George Bush, as the Governor of Texas, sent one hundred and fifty convicted men and women, one by one, to their deaths by lethal injection. The man's a serial killer (not a merciful person). Licensed to do so by Texas, he presided more executions than Henry the Eighth of England (and he got his start by blowing up frogs with firecrackers)." And I agree. Most people don't like to consider that they have put a sociopath in the White House, but some of us are compelled to look at it.

I suppose I am reaching out to find others that can no longer, or can with difficulty, wrap the "normal" political spin around all that we see before us, at least in Blogtopia, every day. I'm used to living on sanity's edge, so feeling off-kilter about the up-coming election worries me. I'm content with being iconoclastic. It's not an issue. Perhaps it is just a remnant of my "civilized self" that is feeling the pain.

I'm looking for (beyond comfort food) a thought that there are more of you beyond... like me feeling the same. Or if you're not, why you're not.