|Is this a workable political philosophy?|
In this series we have been attempting to characterize the ideologies that are being expressed by the campaign rhetoric going on in this U.S. election cycle.
Not only that, since inherent in such an attempt is an inclusion of the ideologies that will remain once the campaigns evaporate like a fog, and a different group of elected faces emerge from that campaign fog, we are looking at a dynamic discussion that could be called "all about policy morph."
The bottom line is that we are all about finding out what our policies are now, then comparing those policies with what we think they should be.
Will the new political faces emerging from the fog of the campaign bridge the gap between current policy and what we want policy to become, what we think policy should be?
Those really can be two completely different worlds in a bad political context, i.e., what politicians say they will do and what they actually do if elected.
So, not only do we spend our time trying to find the candidate voicing the better policies, but more than that, we try to find a political candidate who will stand for those policies after being elected.
Let's do a short review of this series, then we'll go to Maggie's Farm.
In the post NeoCon Planet: The Presidents of Kolob we discussed one aspect of this bloviating for office phenomenon, which features presidents who eventually run away from the home world, yes, disappearing after saying one thing during their campaign, then doing the opposite on steroids once in office.
In the post NeoCon Planet: Magic Teflon Vagina Juice we discussed how some of our policy will spring from voodoo magic if the words of the candidate become the actions of the office holder.
So, what do the Rmoney-Ferengi think of this home world, what kind of place is it, and what kind of place should it be, according to their world view?
I would say it is described by some lyrics in the song Maggie's Farm:
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
It’s a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more
Well, he hands you a nickel
He hands you a dime
He asks you with a grin
If you’re havin’ a good time
Then he fines you every time you slam the door
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more
Well, he puts his cigar
Out in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window
It is made out of bricks
The National Guard stands around his door
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more
Well, she talks to all the servants
About man and God and law
She’s the brains behind pa
She’s sixty-eight, but she says she’s twenty-four
No, I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
Well, I try my best
To be just like I am
But everybody wants you
To be just like them
They say sing while you slave and I just get bored
Our policies need to be those that take us in the direction of "a kinder gentler nation", not in the direction of "a mad bull that has lost its way".
This is the religious sentiment
the neoCon's want you to have
as they oppress you: