The Feb. 28 consumer boycott is stupid and doomed to failure. This is because there is no real Left and therefore no one to organize it properly. Once again, the corporate Right (which includes the Democratic Party) will laugh their asses off. Pathetic.
Tomorrow
Ted Rall
http://rall.comTed Rall is a syndicated political cartoonist for Andrews McMeel Syndication and WhoWhatWhy.org and Counterpoint. He is a contributor to Centerclip and co-host of "The Final Countdown" talk show on Radio Sputnik. He is a graphic novelist and author of many books of art and prose, and an occasional war correspondent. He is, recently, the author of the graphic novel "2024: Revisited."
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Is there a word beyond “Pathetic”?
I’m — again — shaking my head in a weary low-level disgust about how inept the “left” has become. This fails every way I look at it. It’s the “adult” version of threatening to hold your breath if you don’t get a pony. I’d write down how to run a successful protest and boycott, but what’s the point?
I guess that’s my point. There’s no left whatsoever, and everything has to start with organizing such an organization. But no one wants to do the hard work. And everyone wants to get distracted by the Democrats.
I don’t mind hard work. I mind pointless hard work. I’m rereading “House of the Dead” by Dostoevsky. In the first 100 pages, somewhere, he mentions (through the narrator) that mindless repetitive work that serves no purpose (like filling up a jug, walking it to a sink and emptying it, and then going back and repeating it, hour after hour, day after day) will probably push a prisoner to kill themselves with a few days or weeks.
None of us who see the swindle will ever be able to wake up the imbeciles who think Joe Biden was on our side. No one who thinks Barack Obama was the greatest president ever will be able to see his presidency for what it was. Ditto with the Clintons, Nancy Pelosi, and all the other grifters who made a fortune while lying to our faces about how much they (heart hands) care.
We’re all at the Cocoanut Grove nightclub, being pressed against the inward-opening doors.