The Free Market Lives

Most of the time, I hold myself out to be a moderate in politics. On days when I’m somewhat more full of myself, I proclaim that I’m an Edmund Burke Conservative. But when the Busch and my more combative streaks are in full flower, I announce that I’m a poor man’s Tom Paine. Those points given, I usually take other pundits at their word about what or who they are. They are almost all hard right or left; otherwise, they couldn’t draw listeners, readers, or viewers and their audiences would be the size of mine. No offense, dear reader!

For me, Rush is a weak minded but great entertainer with an extraordinary grasp of how to milk an audience and run a mike. Too bad, but I also find him to be mean spirited. The others of his stripe on both sides of the issues get even less respect from me. As far as leading newspaper pundits are concerned, these I grant a little more honor but never forget they are whores. They’re paid to represent some sliver of the political spectrum and most deliver what they advertise.

After all this sophisticated analysis, I must admit to being naïve. I’ve taken all these people to be relatively honest in their positions. But over the course of the last year, I’ve come to realize that some of the whores do not have hearts of gold beneath those hard edged exteriors. Here I thought they meant what they said – at least a little – and all the while they’ve been two timing their pimps and regulars.

Federal money! My goodness, federal money, that ultimate aphrodisiac, has worked its magic far more effectively than I ever thought possible. Conservative pundits have been singing the virtues of a whole host of government programs, but more than a few have been paid to do it. For a few pieces of federal silver they’ll tell you the virtues of No Child Left Behind or most anything else in the Republican cupboard. Woe is Bill!

At least my faith in Arab traders was restored, a number of first class journalists in Iraq glommed onto the Iraq War supplemental budget and wrote stories in local papers proclaiming the benefits of living under American occupation. Those poor wretches were vastly underpaid and at least learned how to put bread on the table for their families.

That’s about where I stood until the past few days. I had a pretty good fix on the hookers and on which corners each belonged. All was right with the world, and I was not a complete cynic.

Above these street walkers was a class of escort services whose integrity was unassailable. Sugar daddies from both sides of the spectrum set up houses that were pure as the driven snow. South paws could be sure of the Brookings Institution, and starboard hurlers could have complete faith that the stables at The American Enterprise Institute and The Cato Institute were above reproach. But it’s not true!

The papers are full of how Bill’s been two timed. It seems that lobbyists with fists full of lucre were able to buy the services of at least one of the fellows and have him place articles extolling the virtues of the lobbyist’s clients. Go for it, capitalist baby!

Poor Bill’s now learned that beyond the money paid to these fellows, they are generally free to sell their services elsewhere providing they keep their sugar daddies informed of what they’re doing. So while they should be studying and thinking about the great imponderables, they are often typing - as Bill is this minute for free – for additional heavy metal.

Even sadder, it appears that some of people in the best houses may be subject to the siren song of federal or even private money. How awful is that?

Well at least we that what happens in Washington stays in… No, what happens in the Capital often leads to Las Vegas.

The free market lives!

Blog on!

Wild Bill