Christmas from the Perch of Your Progressive Master; Spotting a Moment of Weakness

Oh Neo Reactionary Swine, Oh He who is too Aware for his own good!

Your master is not a cackling Soros shaking hands with oil sheikhs.  Your master is not the Child Prince.

Your master is a suburban housewife, wealthy from inheritance and with a seat in your state legislature.

You cannot engage her aggressively in debate, because she is a homely and sweet mother; even conservatives are appalled by those who attack the embodiment of caring intentions!

We can afford a little more funding to the failing public schools after all.

Her son was shuffled through the best private schools, an above average law school, and into a seat in state government bureaucracy. He is fat and well spoken, a perfect albeit sweaty young man with such educational pedigree that no Republican dares challenge his policy prescriptions.

We live in a pragmatic age.  Science has replaced god, and so the science of bureaucracy has replaced the Founding Father’s insights into human nature.  Stability must be maintained at all costs.

Matronly stability, social graces, local politics; are these not your enemies?

The pols husband, a petit bald cardiologist in tortoise framed glasses welcomes you to his home.  Please help yourself to our selection of craft beers.  Other guests begin to arrive.  Dr. Rosenthal, Dr.  Katz, Dr. Bukowski.  All married men, all sheepishly supplicating to their hideous and matronly wives.  None disagreeable.  All tempered by the feminine.  One doctor, a radiologist, is unmarried and greets you with a glint in his eyes.

The pols daughter approaches.  You knew her when she was a child and played in the sprinklers in the summer.  She has since moved to Brooklyn and asks in an affected manner of speech how you are and what you do.  You’re in sales?  She cringes slightly.  She studies the arts.  You wonder where she picked up the accent.

The pols bespectacled cardiologist husband asks for the crowds attention.

“Welcome to our solstice party.  This is the night on which the darkness is longest, but after today the days lengthen again.  May this year represent the darkness before the light”.

The unmarried radiologist quips: “Is it getting lighter because the Republicans took more seats?”  The pols husband grimaces and shakes his head as nervous chuckles arise from the crowd.  His sweaty son makes brief eye contact with you and continues to make small talk with the state attorney general.

Perhaps there is hope after all.

Merry Christmas

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