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Eulogy For Trent Lott before/after Today cannabalisim streaked across the political arena. The republicans ate one of their own. It was a done deal as far as I was concerned, when I realized that not only had Lott come forward with his gaffe, but that it was the highlight of the newscycle on every major channel. The scent of blood was in the water, and it did not take long for the sharks to start circling. Lott foundered around blindly for a bit, and even made an ill-advised attempt at an apology on BET, all to no avail. Sharks can smell blood for three miles in the ocean, and any bad news that has legs through three days worth of newscylces whips them into a frenzy. In the end, there was nothing to be done, and the major wrangling behind closed doors was not about who would be sent out to dispose of the remainder of the corpse, but who would get the job. Not surprisingly, it was the same person. That took place a few days ago, and the White House quietly issued its assent by formally taking no position. Then the feeding frenzy started, a few choice comments by Bill Frist and others and it was done. Mr. Lott had expended his political capital and the bottom of the barrel was grimly dry. The only one who could have saved him from his own party was the Democrats anyway, and in the end, beedy eyed Trent and his questionable taste in campaign supporters just didn't have the pull to get the votes needed to sway the Demos, and that spelled trouble. They shrieked like banshees, and the GOP was more than happy to comply. Republicans always eat their own. The cattle call went out while Lott foundered in the mud, and the call was answered by huge angry hogs, starved for days, ready to dispose of whatever was edible and shit it back in the wallow. These things happen frequently, and surprises no one. Not me, anyway. Not even worth taking much note. One souless corporate puppet is gone, replaced by another. So are the ways of the world, in this the shiny new mellinum. The twenty first century, the beginning. All others are prelude to a glorious new future, a societal revolution that will be spawned by medical miracles, envisioned by art, and brought together by biological computers that will make us all one and enlighten us to the fact that all our experiences are subjective parts of the whole, as we share our thought at the speed of light, existing as one with no wants or needs, becoming a translucent pale imitaion of spirituality and a God we all love, yet seem to hardly know. Trent Lott? Not even a footnote in history. Fuck em'. It was amusing, but the man was so evil he glowed at night, and hissed at mirrors and holy water whenever it was presented to him. It became an embarassment to his peers, and they could no longer have civilized lunches with him. Soyanara, motherfucker. Only the incompetence of your advesaries will allow you to keep your senatorial seat.
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