The Fire-Starters
The Fire Starters
American politicians are like warring tribes, locked in a modestly sized room—when suddenly, a small fire breaks out in a corner. Now, each member of their respective tribe is armed with a fire extinguisher. In spite of this, no one moves to put the fire out. Instead, the opposing leaders have the same calculated epiphany; “We could put the fire out? That would be the easy thing to do. But what advantage would that offer us?” they ask.
So, the various members of each group do nothing, allowing the fire to grow. Because they know that if they can figure a way to blame the other side, they’ll gain an advantage, even if it means there will be casualties.
"How many casualties?"
As many as necessary. The greater the casualties, the greater the blame, and the greater the victory over our enemies.
Eventually, someone from the outside, seeing the smoke billowing from underneath the door, breaks it down, putting out the raging fire, thereby saving the lives of the warring tribes.
Initially, many thanks are offered for this courageous act. But, as soon as the press shows up, the two groups go into their act and begin blaming the individual who put out the fire. “He’s the one that started this raging inferno,” they shout to an eager press, in an effort to find an appropriate scapegoat.
“To find fresh, red, meat.”
After all, the only witnesses are the members of the tribes—and they’re not talking—except, to lay blame at the feet of the stranger who is a member of neither group.
“Better to save our beloved political institution than see it perish at the hands of outsiders.” they offer. “If that happens….who will save The People?” they ignobly ask. But only for show, since it’s their concern for power, that’s really on the chopping block.
In an effort to advance this miserly tale of woe, the leaders of each group immediately contact their favorite snitches, deep in the bowls of “The Media Industrial Complex,” who swing into action and faithfully parrot the new narrative: “Yeah! Yeah! It was that guy over there! The outsider! He started the fire!” the leaders of the press shout. This, then, is picked-up-on by the lesser members of this boot-licking establishment, in the hopes of gaining a better foothold in the halls of power. To be accepted by the kings and queens. The Hoi Polloi.
“This...is the game.”
Secretly the press knows that if they don’t play along, they’ll never get another inside scoop from the warring tribes. “Then where would we be? And, furthermore, who will keep The People informed?” The media silently offer as a justification—as always being sure to never, but never, question their own motives.
“The less we know the better,” they say, while retreating deep into self-delusion.
For the press and the warring tribes, it’s always preferable to lie than tell the truth. “Where does that get you?—speaking collectively with a single voice, as they move on to the next story. While also finding, (as they always do,) that it can be very profitable to please your masters.
“Very profitable!” the warring tribes and the media suggest, as each laugh, silently under their breath.
“Very profitable indeed.”
Mark Magula
American politicians are like warring tribes, locked in a modestly sized room—when suddenly, a small fire breaks out in a corner. Now, each member of their respective tribe is armed with a fire extinguisher. In spite of this, no one moves to put the fire out. Instead, the opposing leaders have the same calculated epiphany; “We could put the fire out? That would be the easy thing to do. But what advantage would that offer us?” they ask.
So, the various members of each group do nothing, allowing the fire to grow. Because they know that if they can figure a way to blame the other side, they’ll gain an advantage, even if it means there will be casualties.
"How many casualties?"
As many as necessary. The greater the casualties, the greater the blame, and the greater the victory over our enemies.
Eventually, someone from the outside, seeing the smoke billowing from underneath the door, breaks it down, putting out the raging fire, thereby saving the lives of the warring tribes.
Initially, many thanks are offered for this courageous act. But, as soon as the press shows up, the two groups go into their act and begin blaming the individual who put out the fire. “He’s the one that started this raging inferno,” they shout to an eager press, in an effort to find an appropriate scapegoat.
“To find fresh, red, meat.”
After all, the only witnesses are the members of the tribes—and they’re not talking—except, to lay blame at the feet of the stranger who is a member of neither group.
“Better to save our beloved political institution than see it perish at the hands of outsiders.” they offer. “If that happens….who will save The People?” they ignobly ask. But only for show, since it’s their concern for power, that’s really on the chopping block.
In an effort to advance this miserly tale of woe, the leaders of each group immediately contact their favorite snitches, deep in the bowls of “The Media Industrial Complex,” who swing into action and faithfully parrot the new narrative: “Yeah! Yeah! It was that guy over there! The outsider! He started the fire!” the leaders of the press shout. This, then, is picked-up-on by the lesser members of this boot-licking establishment, in the hopes of gaining a better foothold in the halls of power. To be accepted by the kings and queens. The Hoi Polloi.
“This...is the game.”
Secretly the press knows that if they don’t play along, they’ll never get another inside scoop from the warring tribes. “Then where would we be? And, furthermore, who will keep The People informed?” The media silently offer as a justification—as always being sure to never, but never, question their own motives.
“The less we know the better,” they say, while retreating deep into self-delusion.
For the press and the warring tribes, it’s always preferable to lie than tell the truth. “Where does that get you?—speaking collectively with a single voice, as they move on to the next story. While also finding, (as they always do,) that it can be very profitable to please your masters.
“Very profitable!” the warring tribes and the media suggest, as each laugh, silently under their breath.
“Very profitable indeed.”
Mark Magula