The
Change We Don't Want
I often go to estate sales on the weekends and occasionally
there will be an object on the premises, unpriced, that attracts
my attention. And I'll go "Ooh! How much for that wonderful,
fabulous, beautiful, splendiferous thing?"
Nine out of ten times they'll make me an offer but occasionally
I'll get a "Oh, it's not for sale."
That's when I reply, "Dude! This is America. Everything's for sale. It just depends on the price you'll accept."
And that's why the ocean's are hot enough to brew tea and
hurricanes are flooding the Southern California deserts and
infernos are gutting entire cities in Hawaii.
It's because, in
case the rock you've been under all your life was covered
by a mountain range or two, oil companies are the most profitable
business
in the known universe
and
there is no one they cannot induce to cut off their off own
noses or sell their grandmothers into chattel slavery simply
by waving the equivalent of a rounding error of their vast
fortunes under the noses of men, and women, who were relatively
wealthy
even
before they were elected to seats of authority in our government.
Campaign reform.
We have to have campaign reform to get the
money out of politics. From here on the two questions a candidate
for office has to agree to before they can be considered
electable
is "Do you believe in climate change?" and "Will you support
campaign reform?"
Nothing less.
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Speaking of estate sales, the image below was a shirt I saw
listed online at a nearby recent sale. The shirt hails from
the late 60s or early 70s, part of an ad blitz by the Fina
gasoline company ("Fina
with Pflash!"). Irony aside, I immediately
lusted after it but, sadly, it was purchased by someone equally
lustful
and more of an early riser than I. Sigh.
=Lefty=
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