Sunday, June 25, 2006

Travels of the Myopic Juice Hunter (Intermission 12a)


Every once in an epoch, Falt-Earth Friedman (NY Times editor) surprises us with an introspective analysis worthy of notice. Rather than being the usual apologist for the US President and for the American way of non-negotiable life, Tom the Tome takes us on a panoramic plummet down to Peru in this weekend's editorial, to visit the receding glaciers of Machu Piccu. He charms us into the mindset of a Peruvian corn farmer whose wilting crop worsens with each year's lessening of glacial run off. Tom even goes so far as to challenge the wisdoms of the Adam Smith religion by noting that receding water levels and shrinking crop outputs will force Peru to drill for and export more oil, thus hastening its own demise due to Global Warming.

Yes, once again the Invisible Hand guides us to the most "efficient" utilization of our depleting resources. Rest In Peace, oh you humanity.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Travels of the Myopic Juice Hunter (Chapt 11)

The sky blooms into wide open blue glory as Hero finds himself soaring with a supportive flock of like minded friends.

This is where eagles hang. No one cuts and runs. Heroes do not flinch and flee. Heroes remain loyal to the cause. Stay the course. Stick to the plan. Remain on message.

And what is the message?

Hero pauses for a listen.

They are all murmurring the same lines of prayer that he had learned so well in Edge-occasion school. It can't be wrong if they all say it is right. Can it?

The murmur of the flying crowd continues.

"The Market shall provide." "The Market shall provide." "The Market shall provide." "The Market shall provide."

"Progress is perpetual." "Progress is perpetual." "Progress is perpetual."

"Technology is our savior." "Technology is our savior." "Technology is our savior." "Technology is our savior." "Technology is our savior."

The Smith is Great.

Blessed is the Smith.

His will be done.

Here on Reality Earth as it is in Fantasy Heaven.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Travels of the Myopic Juice Hunter (Chapt 10)

Hero finds himself tumbling down a tube; a Tunnel of Visions, or a TV for short.

Along the horizontal scan line, he spies a black monolith emerging from the dusts of time. "Thus Spake Zarathustra," it says to him in flashdance bursts. "The Enlightened Millenium is upon us." Hero stares at the flashing monolith in awe. His bird brain binds to the monolith's blinding lights. His herd-again ears hang onto every captivating tone within its cacophony of remixed messages. "We shall reveal for you a most wonderous secret," it promises, "on the other side of the break."

Hero sees the monolith growing and expanding, becoming a black streak spreading itself from farm to field in a relentless chase after its own tail.

Busy bee dots swarm up to cover the enlarging black tarp. Their wheels spin furiously in a stampede like rush towards the promised land: Extopia. Gushers of Juice snake behind the dots, feeding them with life and motion, feeding the black tarp with a darkish glue that holds its gravelous rocks together. The tarp advances from mall to mall and from Sears to shining Sears.

"T'is the Trail to Eden," he murmurs. "The Invisible Hand guides our growth and guides us to an inevitable array of prosperous futures. The Markets provide us, each with his wants, each according his ability to pay. Our Technology delivers. We are negotiating our way smartly along these routes and asserting our dominion over everything, even over Mother Nature! Ours will be the glory. Blessed is the Smith."

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Travels of the Myopic Juice Hunter (Chapt 9)

Heavens, No ! Mrs. Robinson.

Hero the Graduate confronts the realities of SUV-Irbia.

"One word:" buds in a gray-hair
tea toadler,

Hero knows not what to say.

Cock a doodle do, Mrs. Robinson?

Here he stands in the confusion of Sprawl-Mart Land with hardly a grasp on the spin and balance of the place. Media attacks come from everywhere. Buy this. Shop that. Get more. Get more. Gitt mo. Help!

All his Edge-OK-shin dissolves into a diffuse background beat in the face of this on-the-edge occasion. His professors had not prepared Hero for the onslaught of the Madison Avenue and K-Street mind benders. Hero's chicken brain takes over control in this moment of fright, fear and confusion. Save us, it says. We must continue. We must persevere. Our preciousness must go on. Grab for the brass ring. Become one with Subversia. Hero faints.

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Travels of the Myopic Juice Hunter (Chapt 8)


Hurray. Free at last. Free at last.

Hero has his mortar board and his certificate of Edge-OK-shin.

He is ready to tackle the "real world".

He has been duly trained in understanding what is "real" outside the walls of alma matta and what is superficial facade.

"The Invisible Hand shall guide you," assured his professors, "to engage in that are endeavorsbest both for you and for society."

Hero amazes even himself with his ability to spout the speak of the Psycho-nomic Pundits. "The gain in Spain," he repeats, "falls mainly on the vain." Absolutely brilliant.

"The Market provides."

"Ask not what the markets will do to you, ask what you can do for the markets."

"I pledge allegiance to the Invisible Hand and to the system for which it stands, one world, under Smith, indivisble, with free will and tradable options for all."

Hero marches boldly forward, towards the inmate release ramp, confident that he is armed with all the correctionalized thoughts of Chairman Smith. Fogland here I come!