by Jeffrey Toobin ( Staff writer and chief legal correspondent for The New Yorker Free Times Time Magazines News Groups.)
by Alexander Anthony Christopher Lager, XXVVLIII, (Staph-writer, and queasy heir to The Newer New Yorker World Church of the BFFs and their Friends’ Selfish World News Journal.)
The American cheeseburger was as surprised as anyone to find itself back on the steps of Democracy this week. Like some punitive thirteenth labor dreamed up out of boredom for an exhausted Herakles; or as though a capricious and lazily-attired god had decided casually to add but one more hurdle to the feverish home-bent impediments that beset Odysseus: it seemed as though the American cheeseburger had only just so recently traversed its own twin
whirlpools suckers in Demagoguess and Theocritus. Now it would have to perish on the very steps of the capital that had been its spirit beacon since the dawn of the Republic all over again!
Before it lay darkness; behind it, a narrowly-averted ruin. Dead men lined the path of its progress like the deep blue poppy dales of Flanders in the years following the First Great Droid insurrection.
) “]Had she come through such darkness – the predations of The Toe-Cutter alliance; the spectacular homophobia of Murdoch’s “Mad Max” plays; the press of the Newscorp Death Star press; the bitter clot of assassinations in the late 60’s; the thundering mutilations of George IV, the “Pretender King,” and his Imperial Starfuck Administration; the pyrrhic Droid Clashes of the 80s; all of which is to to say nothing about the macabre and bitter lessons of the San Dominick slave ship — only to falter on these final few steps?
Was, as it would seem, Democracy itself ‘insurmountable’?
How had she come to eschew the euphoria of the Arab Spring in favor of the clod-headed entrenchments of the separation wall and the newly-minted Blue White Rome? Two decades of ‘rote fealty declarations’ and coffer-draining aid to the old New White Rome had purchased nothing but disenchantment, murderous attrition, and censure for the world that lived there.
And yet the stolid, dogged, dim-but-not-diminished American cheeseburger stumbled forth, cleaving to the blood-worn trail that led into the capital rotunda.
At home the population was seething with a suspicious resentment that had spiraled into a honeycomb of sword-drawn nationalism and blood-rinsed ‘self-purification’ acts: Memphis, the Ambassador Hotel; Oslo, the Oswald slaughter; Gingrinch and Norquist’s ‘Christmas Tax Abscondence plot’; Lafayette in Mexico;
the NRA’s NPR’s secret border war sentimental ear honey in with which it supplied close-combat weaponry cozy bromides in order to sustain to its nervous and moneyed listenership its very lucrative to sustain its and cozy Drug Wars own cozy place of esteem in the liberal daydream; Hitler USA and the Idaho Youth clubs; and cetera in amber waves of nausea and forgetting medicine…
Now the earnest cheeseburger found herself on those cool wide steps, a silent sea of blood pooling around the base of the temple at Demos. Could she rightfully enter the sacred chamber with all these deeds on her bun?