A New Aristocracy

I have lately noticed the rise of a new aristocracy – a peculiar twist to the modern democratic era. I speak only partially of a bloodline, although that is certainly a piece of it judging by the repetition of last names in the political scene. But the new aristocrat is distinguished, less by blood, and more by certain associations. Be cursed with southern dialectic grammar or a keenness for cowboy boots, and you get Monkey Man Bush, court jester. Yet the sillier your progressive views are, the higher in the elite caste you rank. Thus, Obama is crowned king without ever making an argument. If you can call wealth redistribution ‘opportunity’ with a straight face, the nobility will clap and clap and never ask questions. To question royalty is death, in these lands.

Unfortunately, I do not have the blessed luck of being included in the new chosen people, for I have the rather sad affliction of an allergy to progressive speech. Whenever I hear it, my hands swell, and my eyes itch, and next thing I know I am bedridden, needing aloe spread onto my skin like a child with poison ivy.

For this reason, oh sad state of affairs, I am relegated to the masses, out of reach from the fine clothing and grand reasoning awarded to those elevated. Much like traditional aristocracy, the new bourgeois don’t like the smell of the lower folk. They hiss like maddened gremlins whenever they catch a whiff.

It can easily be seen with an example from today’s news. Take Mrs. Palin, for example. Despite having more executive experience than any of the other three politicians we were sold, she was immediately attacked for lack of experience. This being a silly tactic based on fact (two years being rather indisputably more than zero, at least mathematically), instead her quaint Alaskan accent and proclivity to shoot large mammals dominated the news. She was condemned as unworthy of being political, for such commoners do not deserve to run the country. It is not in their blood, you see.

Yet in New York, Hillary Clinton’s Senate seat is most likely to go to a Kennedy family member whose only claim to it is her luck of being born a woman, and her luck of owning the last name of an ex-president. These happen to also be the only qualifications of her predecessor, so apparently Senate seats are simply passed down to the closest fit, like hand-me-down shoes. These shoes being worth around 500,000 dollars, at least at the recent going rate.

This, of course, bothers me little. I applaud government positions being given to the undeserved, keeps everyone on their toes. Yet judging from the media response to Mrs. Kennedy’s name floating in the air, and the response to Mrs. Palin’s selection as VP-candidate, apparently all that matters to most progressives is the political affiliation tagged after the name. Having a capitalized ‘d’ afterword means the name is sufficient to craft legislature, and its lack is enough to bar you from presiding over ties in Congress. I can only assume Kennedy’s royal bloodline gives her hereditary political prowess, while little Palin has no right to claw her way out of the boondocks. She probably couldn’t run anything besides the largest state in the Union – she should try a REAL state, perhaps in the North East, before she dares act the part of a noble. The filth should stay with the filth and such. In Alaska, where they belong.

My idea, however, is the New York Governor simply appoint a head of lettuce to the Senate seat. It is about time we had something fresh, and it’s head is nearly as steady as most it would work with. Although, I suppose it will turn out like anything else that jets to Washington DC and rot within the week.

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