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Amerika is screwed, and I don't feel so good myself-By Chris Cowbrough

July 17, 2014

This country is one F#!#ed up mess. And no, it’s way beyond Dr. Phil’s aura of expertise. Of course, the chaos around us is simply a microcosm of the murder, mayhem and maniacal nonsense going on around an increasingly contentious, dangerous world. And, of course, it’s mostly in the name of religion.
Will the sole survivor out the door please turn off the lights?
I think it’s time to head to my library bunker and re-read George Orwell’s tome, 1984. There are times when I feel like I’m living in George Orwell’s 1984 and the iniquitous Ministry of Truth is nipping at my heels and reporting that food prices continue to escalate and the pesky ration distribution to the serfs is higher than ever. Yes, by all means, it’s time for a little Elimination Examination.
The Mariners can’t generate much run support, quick draw cops are shooting humans and dogs first and asking questions later…and the Mother Ship is still nipping at my Croc heels, wondering why the GOP isn’t higher. Well, BFD. And no, I’m not talking about the Republican Parliament of Whores in DC.
Speaking of self-serving, narcissistic, ineffectual leadership, doesn’t anybody in a position of authority have a clue about what to do at the southern border?
The other southern border.
What is happening at the southern border of these formerly United States is a true and profound crisis. Actually, I suspect it’s more a case of collapse, breakdown and beat-down.
The images of toddlers being shuttled off on buses and to warehouse holding centers is truly heart-wrenching. Thousands of would-be immigrants have been dragged through the muck and mire that is Central America to what they apparently think is a land of opportunity. Sorry, that one is history. We as a nation are living on those fumes these days.
This exodus from despair and drug-addled crime has been going on for more than a few weeks and months. This Latino human onslaught has been in place for at least a couple of years. The children and others are coming because they apparently believe that under President Obama’s leadership, and, with all due respect, I invoke that word in the loosest of terms, if they can get across our lack of a border, they will get to stay.
Chances are, that perspective is correct.
I don’t know about you, but the situation is gut-wrenching to me. Thousands of little urchins, generally unaccompanied by anything approximating an adult or parental unit, dragged through the desert and deposited in a country that can’t—or won’t—take care of its own.
We may be a land of immigrants, but that concept is past tense. Decades past tense.
I am uncomfortable for the people who believe that a border onslaught is preferable to the lives they have been leading. I am also uncomfortable with the fact that this nation without borders doesn’t have a clue about what to do.
I’m angry. I’m ashamed and I am nervous for what comes next for these would-be immigrants—and for a crumbling nation. Hello! Is anybody in charge out there? Does anybody have a clue?
The little children have that 10,000-yard look of despair. Ditto for our alleged leaders, who point fingers and blame the other party in their usual game of partisan bickering and Bull#!it. Doesn’t anyone have the integrity, fortitude and acumen to take charge?
Watching this humanitarian mess (pick your favorite humanitarian mess—the world is inundated with them) makes me increasingly uncomfortable for our well-armed, but poorly aimed country. The chaos on our southern border is just another manifestation of a nation with some big problems—high unemployment, low workforce participation, a crumbling infrastructure and a culture on the skids.
My creditors expect me to pay my bills, but America can’t pay its bills. What kind of an example is that, Uncle Sam? How many times have the Founding Fathers rolled over in their graves?
I’m certainly not wealthy. After all, I work for the Fifth Estate, small town newspaper division. I am close enough to the ground to feel the pain of a nation in inexorable deterioration.
Is everyone powerless out there where it matters most? The debt and the children keep coming and we as a nation don’t have a clue about what to do. Maybe it’s time to start a war somewhere. Sadly, that seems to be what we do best.
Now where did I put that dog-eared copy of 1984?

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