by Barry Hastings
If a visit to the Gun Lake (or any othe
r) Casino, “is gonna” be the best day of your li-hi-hife,” you must be a very lonely, terribly bored person. I’ve known a lot of addicted people over nearly 77 years — gamblers, drunks (a lot of drunks), junkies, crack-heads, meth-heads, serious risk-takers — and without a doubt or exception they’re the saddest, sorriest human beings I know.
Or, more properly in most cases, have known. My own 27-year-old son was one of them, found dead under the Atlantic City Boardwalk in spring of ’87, when tourists there began reporting a terrible stench along a stretch of beach and businesses. He was a (any) substance abuser from his early teens. He grew up in Philly, and from age 18 months to age 26, I never saw him – never there when I drove 750 miles to see him. Off visiting Grandma, or some such thing.
At any rate, you ain’t gonna’ see any of those long-legged blondes and brunettes wearing $800 dresses, lookin’ for you. They don’t exist outside the slick mind of some Madison Avenue ad man – the kind of guy who sells you all the other crap you line-up to buy at the “app store,” Wal-Mart, or Art Van. (I do love the way those gals walk, though.)
The camera follows them around the place, past well-dressed people of both sexes (the kind of people you never see there) crowded around gaming tables, then through the lounge, and on into the two-star (at best) dining room. A fast whirl around the dance floor follows. The last scene has her opening the door to the bath in her suite, shedding a shimmering dressing gown, and sliding into a tub of luscious chemical foam. It all plays out backed by the music of whatever old, has-been, rock n’ roll bands they’re promoting for the coming weekend.
Meanwhile, other stations are showing tear-jerking government-sponsored PSAs urging problem gamblers to seek aid for their bad habit — usually at public supported clinics and web sites. My guess is those lines get very little business.
In the old days (as I often remark) European and American sailors referred to syphilis as “Montezuma’s Revenge.” When you look around at the billions in profits these casinos generate at the expense of people who can’t afford the losses, it’s pretty clear the indigenous peoples have obtained, and are extracting, the very best of all possible revenge — never-ending money by the ton.
Moving on:
It was good to see a Federal Appeals Court ruling against NSA/CIA/other Intel services, gathering phone data on American citizens. “Illegal,” was their ruling on the Patriot Act. Up to Congress now. Maybe, in three or four terms, they could figure something out. But the Patriot Act expires soon, and if you’re sick of being surveilled, make sure your congressman and senators know how you feel.
The spooks tell us (every day) how much harm the act has prevented or interrupted, but never say exactly “How.” Will the government now allow Ed Snowden back into the fold? Not without us raising a “hue and cry” across the nation. He’s a man who risked much, and deserves our support for exposing this absolutely un-American spying (and a lot of other snooping, as well).
And how about young Manning? She witnessed murder of unarmed civilians by our soldiers in Iraq. Reporting it to superiors got her nowhere. Reporting it to the media got her 35 years in federal prison. Whistle-blowers get no protection, so the public is the perpetual victim of thieves and other wrongdoers.
We’re seeing it happen, right now, to those who directed their beams of light at terrible conditions within the VA. Until Americans get really pissed off, and show it, we’ll ever be the victims of our own corrupt creation.
Of course you can count on Senators John McCain, Whimsey Graham, Mitch McConnell, Marco Rabies-o; and Congressmen Devin Nunes, Fred Upton (among many, many more), are ever going to toe the Facist/Nazi line. We can’t expect them to care about much except welfare and safety of the rich, and keeping the unwashed masses in their place and at bay. McConnell has introduced legislation in the Senate to extend collection of data for five more years. (So you know where most of the GOP stands.)
It’s a good thing our idiot (Barry County) sheriff (Tea Party twit) loaded-up on military vehicles, other surplus crap, from federal surplus stock when he did. The President has ordered immediate halt to the programs as they’ve existed for some time. No more tracked vehicles (APCs), personnel shields, .50 cal. sniper rifles, a bunch of other crap they’ve used over the years to overawe citizens of color, and the poor in general.
“The times they are a-changin’.”
Did you see film of the Iraqi troops scooting out of Ramadi like the Hounds of Hades were on their heels? “Oh, they ran thru the briars, and they ran thru the brambles, and they ran thru the bushes where a rabbit couldn’t go. They ran so fast that the hounds couldn’t catch ’em, down Euphrates river to the Persian Gulf below.”
Now we’ll have to re-train them (for the third or fourth time). If we can find any of ’em.
It’s very interested watching potential (or actual) GOP presidential contenders struggle with the query, “Should we, or should we not, have invaded Iraq in 2003, just at the moment we had the Taliban on the ropes (trapped by snow-filled passes between Pakistan and Afghanistan), and surrounded by American special ops troops and many Afghan tribesmen eager to kill them?” I haven’t heard a convincing answer from any of them yet, and those who are supposed to be the brightest of them politically — Rubio, Gendal, Bush (III), Fat Boy, Whimsey, offer the most opaque replies.
We’re in sad shape – a sorry bunch of clowns are making us look like clowns — while the American people don’t, for the most part even know where to find location of the world hot spots on a good map. In the words of another old American rock ‘n roll song, “People while away the hours, in their ivory towers, ’til they’re covered-up with flowers, in the back of a black limousine.”
If you’re one of them, wake up! And shape up! Your offspring will have to deal with this crap for a hundred years, if you won’t, or don’t.
