The St. Paul Resurrection...Miracle in Minnesota

Friends:
The St. Paul Resurrection…
Miracle in Minnesota

“…I am The Phoenix, I rise in Flames…”
Anonymous lines from a poem remembered long ago

There has been no resurrection in St. Paul this week…yet. The Republican body politick lies lifeless in the dust. Even the bodies of Lincoln and Reagan remained moribund.

“John Brown’s body lies a-mouldering in the grave…but his soul goes marching on…Glory, glory hallalulah…”

In the temple of the Xcel Center, the situs for the televised resurrection of the Republican Phoenix, the throngs of the faithful chant and cry for The Tortured Warrior to rise from the smoldering ashes of the Bush meltdown. The miracle has yet to occur, but not because of lack of effort. The tent revival is parading its finest Party illuminati on stage, ranting and raving, continuing daily into the weary night. Men in expensive shiny suits, interspersed with Armani-clothed women, marched out on cue, summonsing the spirits to grant the petition for the miracle.

It’s a miracle the spectacle has happened at all. Nature always gets its paybacks, and it has not forgotten New Orleans, when Katrina stormed ashore, flushing the remnants of the Bush crowd into the toxic canal waters. It marked the nadir of the administration’s ineptitude. This week, Gustav blew into New Orleans, and right on up the Mississippi River, seeking out the remaining perpetrators of the impotent response. The Republicans are the Party of Hurricanes it seems, an ironic twist of fate.

Perhaps it’s the low-pressure system that has caused the lackluster energy level of the crowds in St. Paul, but the Amens have been hard to come by in the crowd. Or perhaps the Convention is situated in that nether world between East and West, the land of the Lutherans, the Presbyterians…”The Frozen Chosen”…Garrison Keillor’s folks.

But whatever, the Convention has been painful to watch, to listen to. In a word, Boring. But you gotta give ‘em credit…the steady drumbeat of the Liberal versus Conservative mantra: “Zero Experience,” “Too Tough, too tough”, “Nada, Nada,” “Drill, Baby, Drill” have energized the crowd. And at least they have dropped that silly “compassionate conservative” crap, which does not have enough power to resurrect an ant. Mormon Romney was a little frightening as he leaned about as far Right as he could get and still remain standing…my God, is there no pride left?

Tonight The Maverick, the Phoenix Hopeful, will appear on stage, appealing to the gods for resurrection, and pleading for release and distance from his nemesis, GWB (who, of course, remained in DC to deliver his speech, not that anybody cared). His woman, The Mayor of Wasilla, extolled the heavens relentlessly for the Tortured Warrior’s rise, and if I had to venture a guess, she was heard. And speaking of venture, in the town of Jesse Ventura, wrestler turned Governor, these improbable things can happen.

It’s anybody’s guess if the public buys anything either Party says, but if the Mavens of Minneapolis are anywhere near correct, there is a rumbling in the grave…

“…son of man, can these bones live?….Thou knowest”

It’s too close to call, so last night I put the dogs up, turned the lights off, and clicked off the TV as the Alaska Hockey Mom was concluding her petition. Walking out, I thought I heard the bones rattle again…”country above all, big ideas, prosperity, low taxes, straight talk, free from foreign oil.…” And if this elixir won’t raise the dead, let it lie!


Bud
September 4, 2008