I’m neither gloating nor pouting or dancing, rioting, crying, laughing or any other partisan expressions of the recent political transition. Things could have gone smoother, D-Day could have never happened and Star Wars could have just stopped after one movie. We can’t go back; we press on with sensible expectations. I’m just here to help as I always have been through 10 or so apocalyptic political reigns of error.
Dear comrades, you shouldn’t fear liberals or liberalism. It’s really not like Marxism or Communism; for one we don’t have team hats and uniforms. We are just in another painful phase of American growth like trickle-down economics and manifest destiny. Every era of our country sounded like a good idea at the time; like adolescence, we’ll get through this.
Most liberal and conservative extremes start out sounding like good ideas, but then they quickly escalate to laughable horror. Free-range chicken sounds like a good idea, but then it becomes freer-range chickens. The grass really is greener on the other side of the fence, so the chickens are moved over there. They are not only free-range, but they have little golf carts to ride around on because they aren’t used to walking that far on that range. Nobody ever taught chickens how to drive so the golf carts have to be outfitted with air bags and multiple early warning systems.
The tiny golf carts also have to pass emissions testing, so they are, of course electric or, at the very least, hybrids. The electric poultry carts are powered by local solar arrays and wind towers build by local artisan electricians who earn fair wages with generous health care plans. They drive to work in their electric cars if public transit is not available and they park in lots paved with crushed recycled bricks taken from energy inefficient houses that were torn down to make way for the solar power and wind manufacturing plants. When the wind doesn’t blow and the sun doesn’t shine, they are powered by the city burning dehydrated, de-scented dog fecal deposits.
This gets better or worse depending on your world view.
National Public Radio will buy up all the available FM station numbers save the few left for folk music, progressive jazz, water polo and 24-hour-a-day poetry slams. Get used to phrases like “feel all the feels,” “equality,” “equity,” “estuaries,” “environments,” “easements,” “sustained,” “sustainable,” and “sustainability.” Get used to learning new ways to use pronouns and pronoun protests.
Say goodbye to your freedom to idle your car, roll coal and throw trash and ash out the window. Your vehicle will no longer be your kingdom. The worst part of your day will be trying to figure out which Prius is yours in the parking lot. Drive-throughs will be replaced by cheerful solar-powered robots car hops which will bring your food to your car or a flock of electric drones that will deliver chalupas to your driveway. There will be little need to drive on Main Street, and we liberals will use two of the four lanes for a five-mile-long hemp greenhouse. This hemp will not get us high, but it will make us feel better about everything.
We won’t need a new health care plan because we will be so dang healthy after the ban on fried chicken, soda, eclairs and scones. Our appliances will be so water efficient that all the rivers will flood into the valley’s massive organic brown rice paddies. Recycling will decimate the landfill, and all the seagulls will die or fly to some far away Bundy land.
By liberal mandate, all parks will be dog parks and humans will gladly and cheerfully pick up their barking overlords’ poop and throw them balls to fetch. All machinery will have noise canceling mufflers, and sidewalks will be cleared in the winter by another set of dutiful fire-breathing robots.
Dennis Hinkamp makes no campaign promise that all of this will happen in your imagination or otherwise.