This old hound

Is run to ground

Life is such a flurry

Oh lord, I’m tired

Of running hard,

‘Of all the huff and hurry

Throw me a bone

And leave me alone

I’m too footsore and weary

To chase the ‘coon

To howl at the moon

To growl and fight

To bark all night

Give me room

To lie down

I’m at the point

That weary point

When no bed

Is better

Than a gunnysack

On the ground

Won’t say the old hound has ‘zactly been run to ground but just when you think you’ve seen it all, the sky comes falling. The Bermuda Triangle of human nobility, the graveyard of dignity the futility of meticulous labor. What’s the old expression? With the ground already slipping under our feet, a chain of Alice in Wonderland events so bizarre and insane one just throws up his hands and mocks the improbable spectacle. Laughing to keep from crying. Yep that’s it. That’s me.

Having lately arrived at a place where politics are so unbelievably convoluted the downright silliness of it becomes agonizingly amusing; a graveyard of failed standards, a place where roles are reversed, where good is slandered and evil gains respectability, a dimension wherein values have lost their value and become so skewed that, blissful in our own righteousness we accuse our neighbor of hateful design all the while ignorant of the hatefulness inherent in our own stodgy attitudes.

Well now, what to expect from an old hound weary of the chase? Surely readers of Bottom Rung know it can be pretty opinionated. From a “right leaning perspective.” Still, it does not hold to a dogmatic partisan format, is more reactive politically than proactive and even then prefers not to muck rake as others might choose to do; fascist and ‘Taliban” are not labels the column ordinarily applies to individuals, Parties or political associations that are crosswise to its philosophies. Despite an often, critical view of liberalism and its attempts to slander the values of my own culture and conscience, I must acknowledge the existence of many good Democrats and not a few rascally Republicans.

Yes, we may “howl at the moon” on occasion but struggle mightily to refrain from casting aspersions on those that have the temerity not to align with some arbitrary view. We all have our political consciences and even though I might disavow another mans heroes, there is no interest in turning this column into a political frump by spending a lot of time turning up rocks in another mans garden looking for creatures that crawl and sting.

Yes, conscience matters but how we convey that conscience within a public forum matters too. At least it matters to those with pride of self. The clouds will drift, the ground will shift the tides will ebb and surge, still miles and miles of smiles than the braying of a petulant donkey. Anyone expecting to win every hand dealt, that curses the hide of fellow gamers when they win, need not be setting at the table.

Fact is, America’s constitution invites all political interests to compete within a game of ideas and interests and that of itself is no design against the health of our freedom based governmental system. Rules of the game. Sadly, in a day the nation suffers extreme political contention equity is not always the attitude. It’s much too easy to find those that disadmire the values that gave us birth and made us great.

Depending on which political association holds national power, our “sins” out perform our historical achievements, and the debits of the union overwhelm its assets. Yes it has come to that. Within this great Bermuda Triangle of politics, America is often judged against a standard of human perfection that does not exist and is impossible to achieve. It’s beyond sanctimonious that one captious entity demands of another, a standard that mankind in its long history, having tried, has been unable to achieve.

Whilst the current political battle rages ‘round and about, I congratulate myself that regardless of the contentious attitudes, despite all the fur and the fangs thrown into the arena, I defend my own little plot without contributing a whole lot to the blue language”so common to the fuss, preferring not to be remembered on this page (or any other page) as a scold once I disappear beyond the ridgeline of life’s far horizon. It matters to me not a little, the tincture of the contrail as the engine is feathered and the plane settles on its final approach to the beaches of heavens bright shore.

And so this page has arrived at a philosophy derived from a spiritual source rather than a fleshly one: The book of Eccleasiastes chapter I verse 4, reads that “one generation passeth and another takes its place, but the earth abideth forever,” which, I interpret as “don’t sweat it man, eat drink and be merry, life is but a mist that appears for awhile and then vanishes away.” (Forgive me lord for taking liberty)

Life is short eat drink and be merry as an ages old philosophy, can be found in more recent literature i.e. the sound track of a 1972 movie set in the rise of German fascism staring singer/actress Liza Minnelli:

“What good’s permitting some prophet of doom

To wipe your smile away

Life is a cabaret old chum

Come to the cabaret

Come taste the wine

Come hear the band

Come blow your horn

Start celebrating

Right this way, your table’s waiting,

Come to the cabaret old chum

Come to the Cabaret.”

Prophets of doom are a dime a dozen in both religion and politics, always have been always will be and can have a trivializing effect on profound discourse. As for ‘View from the Bottom Rung’, it endeavors not to be overly dramatic in its political themes, which admittedly, is of little concern to the discourse anyways, since no one is ever apt to accuse it of being profound. Come taste the wine.

Grin and bear it:

Grin and bear it is an expression of resignation applied to circumstances and conditions we may not like, but can do nothing about; a resolve to carry on in the face of life’s little adversities without disturbing our neighbors by howling at the moon past 10 o’clock evening time, or barking into the black emptiness of a late dark night.

We may seriously posit our political conscience without being so inequitable it pollutes both sensibility and sensitivity. Have fun with it; smiling rather than frowning is like choosing a glass of good old southern sweet tea over a cup of salty brine.

As the grating political conflicts that developed during the Presidential campaign and in its aftermath flood our consciousness like a tidal wave across sea level real estate, consider the ‘source’ and look for humor in the pure human folly of it. “A hound, run to ground,” the opening verse of this little essay reflects a sort of mockery of our own human frailty and helps to the deflect from the zaniness of it all: first and foremost an attempt to have fun with wearying episodes that ain’t a going away anyways soon, an attempt, yes, to mischief my own indulgence of the matter and in doing so, perhaps to offer distraction to, and to entertain my neighborhood with irreverent perspectives, opinion or personalized mental contortions, the process that gave birth to this column and has been its guiding principle. Exploring this little piece of real estate where the ground constantly shifts beneath our feet, has brought, and does bring the writer miles of smiles.’

Smiles: Imagine if you will, a Democratic congress passing a national health care bill without it being thoroughly thought out and dissected beforehand. Or, as Rep. Nancy Pelosi might put it, “without understanding “what is in it.” Bad stuff man! A classic definition of snake oil, which the dictionary defines as a substance with no real medicinal value, sold as a remedy for all diseases. A term well defined in the collapsing structure of Obamacare to date.

Related: More smiles and maybe a giggle or two: A seven years effort by Republicans to repeal and replace the Obama healthcare initiative with something better; seven years of smug assurances that a far superior Republican healthcare replacement was stashed away in the vault just waiting, given the opportunity. A promise that recently came to naught in the hallowed halls of a Republican Congress. Snake oil? Well, at least we knew what was in it.

More smiles and perhaps a ‘grin.’

The Hessian obsession with Sessions. (The U.S. Senate confirmation hearings for U.S. attorney general)

‘Welst, the confirmation session

With AG Sessions is over

Oh what a blessing

To witness such magnificent

obsession

Yet there’s more to the story

May the Senate rejoice in its glory

Relax my friend

Tis not the end

There’s still a couple more

Old Rovers.

Despite a positive civil rights record as AG of Alabama and prominent character witnesses from the Black community, Jeff Sessions was vilified as a racist unworthy of office of U.S. attorney general by Democratic members of the Senate. (Grin) To think this was other than part of the consistent effort to debilitate the Trump Presidency is well, laughable. The same is happening to Neil Gorsuch, Trumps nomination to the U.S. Supreme Court. In 2006, the Senate confirmed Judge Neil to the U.S. Court of Appeals, 10th District without opposition. Eleven Democratic members of that Senate still hold office, yet, despite having previously confirmed Gorsuch, and despite Gorsuch’ exemplary record and reputation as a jurist, he received the same vilifying treatment as Sessions. Amongst Democratic senators, when it comes to confirming Republican nominees seems there’s no distinction betwixt the “good, the bad and the ugly.”

These days I do admit to smiling a bit at my own vindication i.e., that the recent election and its aftermath highlights that the foremost strategy in the Democrats political arsenal is demonization and vilification of the‘opposition on both an individual and on a party basis. “No brag, just fact: as Walter Brennan might say in the T.V. series “Guns of Will Sonnett” as fastest gun in the west. But now I reckon, that old burlap beckons, and as I curls up to lie down we leave you with this:

Tired of the news

I took to the booze

Just to ease the frustration

But there ain’t no end

To the fussin’ my friend

Be gone

Just move it along

So’s I may continue my libation.

Cheers.