I lost my ability to get into a lather about this stuff some years ago. After a while, riteous indignation just doesn't have the same kick to it, and it just leaves a bitter, sort of metalic tang. Thankfully, the places where one can go to hear ideas have grown exponentially with the internet and such, and I just cross myself and hope that those whose opinions are still in the maleable stage are not collecting all of their information from The Register and all it's little clones.
Believe me, so would I. Thank goodness for those who can continue to fight the good fight. And I'm pleased whenever I'm reminded that I'm not the only progressive in Orange County. I wish that I could get passionate about it. I always feel that I should be passionate about it. But in my profession, I work all day against social injustice, and when I get home, I just can't seem to muster the energy to take up arms there, too.
You forgot the camp followers of thugs, pimps, junkies and whores that congregate just outside of the campfire, swarming over the carcass of the leftovers like starving dung beetles... specifically, I'm thinking of the loser typefied by "Chronic Cantina" guy... hard to believe we went to high school with these semi-literate, mouth breathing sycophants and oxygen-deprived sollopsistic me-monkeys... it's a wonder we're sane at all...
one of the things that bums me out the most about this kind of thing is that the apathy of my generation is to blame. the 60's rebellion you mentioned is something my generation only looks to for pop culture icons and bad fashion, they (we?) completely missed the point.
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mojo sends
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it makes me sick.
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