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Regressive conservatives aren't really so hard to figure out. You just need to know the key.
It's junior high.
Remember those delightful years of comity and enlightenment, comradeship, maturity and social inclusiveness?
Yeah, me neither.
For most folks, those junior high years might as well have been a Wes Craven movie, full of Freddies and Jasons and metaphorical (not to mention the occasional actual) chain-saw murderers. And why wouldn't they be? Throw a bunch of incredibly immature kids together into a big building, pump them up full of raging hormones and self-centered, consumer-driven, amped-up, self-absorbed me-ism, and see what happens. No need to even light a match.
I suspect that for most of us, these were the nightmare years of awkwardness, emotional pinball, and deep wounds over small slights. Oh, and zits, too - just in case you were somehow feeling too good about yourself on any given day.
But for those of you who have for some reason been wishing that you could return to those golden years, I've got news for you: You already have! That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Courtesy of the regressive right and its Grand Old Party (and isn't it just grand?), we're reliving all those many joys again and again.
But here's the good news: Once you understand this, there's no longer any mystery to figuring out these clowns.
That's 'cause everything you need to know about the regressive right you already learned in junior high.
For instance:
I don't know about you, but I thought once around through junior high was enough for this lifetime. I've never been particularly anxious to relive the experience. Imagine my consternation, therefore, when the George Bushes and Dick Cheneys of the world arrived on the scene to subject us all once again to the nightmare of junior high - this time on steroids, and irradiated like a giant tomato.
It's bad enough when you're twelve, and likely to get whacked by a spit-ball, or smacked down by some devastating verbal cut. If you can imagine taking angry, aggressive kids like that and giving them napalm instead of spit-balls, or John Bolton foaming and snapping at the UN in place of schoolyard taunts, you've got the picture.
Unfortunately, no act of imagination is any longer required. We've been living it.
Hey, we don't even allow freaked-out, immature, mood-swinging, devil-incarnate, little junior high brats to get behind the wheel of a car, let alone drive a country. And for good reason. You know?
So who the hell handed these terminal adolescents keys to the ship of state?
David Michael Green is a professor of political science at Hofstra University in New York. He is delighted to receive readers' reactions to his articles (dmg@regressiveantidote.net), but regrets that time constraints do not always allow him to respond. More of his work can be found at his website, www.regressiveantidote.net
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Regressive conservatives aren't really so hard to figure out. You just need to know the key.
It's junior high.
Remember those delightful years of comity and enlightenment, comradeship, maturity and social inclusiveness?
Yeah, me neither.
For most folks, those junior high years might as well have been a Wes Craven movie, full of Freddies and Jasons and metaphorical (not to mention the occasional actual) chain-saw murderers. And why wouldn't they be? Throw a bunch of incredibly immature kids together into a big building, pump them up full of raging hormones and self-centered, consumer-driven, amped-up, self-absorbed me-ism, and see what happens. No need to even light a match.
I suspect that for most of us, these were the nightmare years of awkwardness, emotional pinball, and deep wounds over small slights. Oh, and zits, too - just in case you were somehow feeling too good about yourself on any given day.
But for those of you who have for some reason been wishing that you could return to those golden years, I've got news for you: You already have! That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Courtesy of the regressive right and its Grand Old Party (and isn't it just grand?), we're reliving all those many joys again and again.
But here's the good news: Once you understand this, there's no longer any mystery to figuring out these clowns.
That's 'cause everything you need to know about the regressive right you already learned in junior high.
For instance:
I don't know about you, but I thought once around through junior high was enough for this lifetime. I've never been particularly anxious to relive the experience. Imagine my consternation, therefore, when the George Bushes and Dick Cheneys of the world arrived on the scene to subject us all once again to the nightmare of junior high - this time on steroids, and irradiated like a giant tomato.
It's bad enough when you're twelve, and likely to get whacked by a spit-ball, or smacked down by some devastating verbal cut. If you can imagine taking angry, aggressive kids like that and giving them napalm instead of spit-balls, or John Bolton foaming and snapping at the UN in place of schoolyard taunts, you've got the picture.
Unfortunately, no act of imagination is any longer required. We've been living it.
Hey, we don't even allow freaked-out, immature, mood-swinging, devil-incarnate, little junior high brats to get behind the wheel of a car, let alone drive a country. And for good reason. You know?
So who the hell handed these terminal adolescents keys to the ship of state?
David Michael Green is a professor of political science at Hofstra University in New York. He is delighted to receive readers' reactions to his articles (dmg@regressiveantidote.net), but regrets that time constraints do not always allow him to respond. More of his work can be found at his website, www.regressiveantidote.net
Regressive conservatives aren't really so hard to figure out. You just need to know the key.
It's junior high.
Remember those delightful years of comity and enlightenment, comradeship, maturity and social inclusiveness?
Yeah, me neither.
For most folks, those junior high years might as well have been a Wes Craven movie, full of Freddies and Jasons and metaphorical (not to mention the occasional actual) chain-saw murderers. And why wouldn't they be? Throw a bunch of incredibly immature kids together into a big building, pump them up full of raging hormones and self-centered, consumer-driven, amped-up, self-absorbed me-ism, and see what happens. No need to even light a match.
I suspect that for most of us, these were the nightmare years of awkwardness, emotional pinball, and deep wounds over small slights. Oh, and zits, too - just in case you were somehow feeling too good about yourself on any given day.
But for those of you who have for some reason been wishing that you could return to those golden years, I've got news for you: You already have! That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Courtesy of the regressive right and its Grand Old Party (and isn't it just grand?), we're reliving all those many joys again and again.
But here's the good news: Once you understand this, there's no longer any mystery to figuring out these clowns.
That's 'cause everything you need to know about the regressive right you already learned in junior high.
For instance:
I don't know about you, but I thought once around through junior high was enough for this lifetime. I've never been particularly anxious to relive the experience. Imagine my consternation, therefore, when the George Bushes and Dick Cheneys of the world arrived on the scene to subject us all once again to the nightmare of junior high - this time on steroids, and irradiated like a giant tomato.
It's bad enough when you're twelve, and likely to get whacked by a spit-ball, or smacked down by some devastating verbal cut. If you can imagine taking angry, aggressive kids like that and giving them napalm instead of spit-balls, or John Bolton foaming and snapping at the UN in place of schoolyard taunts, you've got the picture.
Unfortunately, no act of imagination is any longer required. We've been living it.
Hey, we don't even allow freaked-out, immature, mood-swinging, devil-incarnate, little junior high brats to get behind the wheel of a car, let alone drive a country. And for good reason. You know?
So who the hell handed these terminal adolescents keys to the ship of state?
David Michael Green is a professor of political science at Hofstra University in New York. He is delighted to receive readers' reactions to his articles (dmg@regressiveantidote.net), but regrets that time constraints do not always allow him to respond. More of his work can be found at his website, www.regressiveantidote.net