They say that you end up with the face that you deserve, and in Bobo’s case it should be plural.
Today, Bobo again lays claims to the ideological center, which is amusing because he describes his political belief as progressive conservatism, a self-canceling phrase if ever there was one. I think what he really means is that he wants to luncheon with the ladies of the upper east side, if only they will have him. Here’s a clue, Bobo: they won’t.
Wistfully, Bobo says that he is to the Left of the Republicans, and to the Right of the Democrats, which he claims puts him in the squishy middle, a veritable no-man’s land, where the pure of heart and soul reside.
Like the Lucky Pierre in a Saint Ronnie and Newt Gingrich sandwich, this middle — of which he offers no evidence of existing — he says is powerless because the Dims have taken a hard-left ideological turn, which has left the Party of God no choice but to turn hard right. Bobo, you see, is the innocent man in the middle.
As government grew, the antigovernment right mobilized. This produced the Tea Party Movement — a characteristically raw but authentically American revolt led by members of the yeoman enterprising class…
As government grew, many moderates and independents (not always the same thing) recoiled in alarm. In 2008, the country was evenly split on whether there should be bigger government with more services or smaller government with fewer services…
During periods of government war, the Democratic Party also reverts to its vestigial self. Democrats don’t want to defend big government, so instead they lash out at business. Over the past weeks, President Obama has upped his attacks on Big Oil, Wall Street and “powerful interests,” sounding like an orthodox Reagan-era Democrat.
The government war is playing out just as you’d expect it to, strengthening those with pure positions and leaving those of us in the middle in the cross-fire. If the debate were about how to increase productivity or improve living standards, people like me could play. But when the country is wrapped up in a theological debate about the size of government, people like me are stuck crossways, trying to make distinctions no one heeds.
I’ve gone on at length about Bobo’s cheerleading role through the Reagan zombies’ dismantling of the country, the rape and pillage that started with the weakest amongst us and now has pretty much destroyed the middle class. The undeclared class war (and that is what it really is) is now threatening even his own privileged upper-middle class self as his precious media consumes itself and thrashes about like a dinosaur in quicksand: alive, doomed, and knowing it.
Police and Fire departments across the country are decimated and taking staff cuts, the roads are crumbling; bridges have already collapsed. The mad villagers have grabbed their teabags and stormed the federal government, demanding that Americans want less, please take more away from us. And meanwhile, in the castles, the CEOs laugh and laugh and laugh, making bets with the Wall Street Bankers on how to further put their heels on the necks of the little people. And Bobo laughs with them, and provides them cover, hoping that they will throw him a crumb.
Bobo cheered on the policies that have lead to the off-shoring of entire sectors of the economy, the tax breaks that encouraged them, the trade deals that codified the race to the bottom. Bobo enabled where he could, and used his dulcet, modulated civil tone to assure his readers that a country that no longer makes anything can survive. You know, as long as you do not want anything, anyway.