Culture > August 26, 2004
We’re Not in
Lake Wobegon Anymore
How did the Party
of Lincoln and Liberty transmogrify into the party of Newt Gingrich’s evil spawn and their Etch-A-Sketch president,
a dull and rigid man, whose philosophy is a jumble of badly sutured body parts trying to walk?
By Garrison Keillor
Something has gone seriously haywire with the Republican Party.
Once, it was the party of pragmatic Main Street businessmen in steel-rimmed spectacles who decried profligacy and waste, were
devoted to their communities and supported the sort of prosperity that raises all ships. They were good-hearted people who
vanquished the gnarlier elements of their party, the paranoid Roosevelt-haters, the flat Earthers and Prohibitionists, the
antipapist antiforeigner element. The genial Eisenhower was their man, a genuine American hero of D-Day, who made it OK for
reasonable people to vote Republican. He brought the Korean War to a stalemate, produced the Interstate Highway System, declined
to rescue the French colonial army in Vietnam, and gave us a period of peace and prosperity, in which (oddly) American arts
and letters flourished and higher education burgeoned—and there was a degree of plain decency in the country. Fifties
Republicans were giants compared to today’s. Richard Nixon was the last Republican leader to feel a Christian obligation
toward the poor.
In the years between Nixon and Newt Gingrich, the party migrated
southward down the Twisting Trail of Rhetoric and sneered at the idea of public service and became the Scourge of Liberalism,
the Great Crusade Against the Sixties, the Death Star of Government, a gang of pirates that diverted and fascinated the media
by their sheer chutzpah, such as the misty-eyed flag-waving of Ronald Reagan who, while George McGovern flew bombers in World
War II, took a pass and made training films in Long Beach. The Nixon moderate vanished like the passenger pigeon, purged by
a legion of angry white men who rose to power on pure punk politics. “Bipartisanship is another term of date rape,”
says Grover Norquist, the Sid Vicious of the GOP. “I don’t want to abolish government. I simply want to reduce
it to the size where I can drag it into the bathroom and drown it in the bathtub.” The boy has Oedipal problems and
government is his daddy.
The party of Lincoln and Liberty was transmogrified into the
party of hairy-backed swamp developers and corporate shills, faith-based economists, fundamentalist bullies with Bibles, Christians
of convenience, freelance racists, misanthropic frat boys, shrieking midgets of AM radio, tax cheats, nihilists in golf pants,
brownshirts in pinstripes, sweatshop tycoons, hacks, fakirs, aggressive dorks, Lamborghini libertarians, people who believe
Neil Armstrong’s moonwalk was filmed in Roswell, New Mexico, little honkers out to diminish the rest of us, Newt’s
evil spawn and their Etch-A-Sketch president, a dull and rigid man suspicious of the free flow of information and of secular
institutions, whose philosophy is a jumble of badly sutured body parts trying to walk. Republicans: The No.1 reason the rest
of the world thinks we’re deaf, dumb and dangerous.
Rich ironies abound! Lies pop up like toadstools in the forest!
Wild swine crowd round the public trough! Outrageous gerrymandering! Pocket lining on a massive scale! Paid lobbyists sit
in committee rooms and write legislation to alleviate the suffering of billionaires! Hypocrisies shine like cat turds in the
moonlight! O Mark Twain, where art thou at this hour? Arise and behold the Gilded Age reincarnated gaudier than ever, upholding
great wealth as the sure sign of Divine Grace.
Here in 2004, George W. Bush is running for reelection on
a platform of tragedy—the single greatest failure of national defense in our history, the attacks of 9/11 in which 19
men with box cutters put this nation into a tailspin, a failure the details of which the White House fought to keep secret
even as it ran the country into hock up to the hubcaps, thanks to generous tax cuts for the well-fixed, hoping to lead us
into a box canyon of debt that will render government impotent, even as we engage in a war against a small country that was
undertaken for the president’s personal satisfaction but sold to the American public on the basis of brazen misinformation,
a war whose purpose is to distract us from an enormous transfer of wealth taking place in this country, flowing upward, and
the deception is working beautifully.
The concentration of wealth and power in the hands of the
few is the death knell of democracy. No republic in the history of humanity has survived this. The election of 2004 will say
something about what happens to ours. The omens are not good.
Our beloved land has been fogged with fear—fear, the
greatest political strategy ever. An ominous silence, distant sirens, a drumbeat of whispered warnings and alarms to keep
the public uneasy and silence the opposition. And in a time of vague fear, you can appoint bullet-brained judges, strip the
bark off the Constitution, eviscerate federal regulatory agencies, bring public education to a standstill, stupefy the press,
lavish gorgeous tax breaks on the rich.
There is a stink drifting through this election year. It isn’t
the Florida recount or the Supreme Court decision. No, it’s 9/11 that we keep coming back to. It wasn’t the “end
of innocence,” or a turning point in our history, or a cosmic occurrence, it was an event, a lapse of security. And
patriotism shouldn’t prevent people from asking hard questions of the man who was purportedly in charge of national
security at the time.
Whenever I think of those New Yorkers hurrying along Park
Place or getting off the No.1 Broadway local, hustling toward their office on the 90th floor, the morning paper under their
arms, I think of that non-reader George W. Bush and how he hopes to exploit those people with a little economic uptick, maybe
the capture of Osama, cruise to victory in November and proceed to get some serious nation-changing done in his second term.
This year, as in the past, Republicans will portray us Democrats
as embittered academics, desiccated Unitarians, whacked-out hippies and communards, people who talk to telephone poles, the
party of the Deadheads. They will wave enormous flags and wow over and over the footage of firemen in the wreckage of the
World Trade Center and bodies being carried out and they will lie about their economic policies with astonishing enthusiasm.
The Union is what needs defending this year. Government of
Enron and by Halliburton and for the Southern Baptists is not the same as what Lincoln spoke of. This gang of Pithecanthropus
Republicanii has humbugged us to death on terrorism and tax cuts for the comfy and school prayer and flag burning and
claimed the right to know what books we read and to dump their sewage upstream from the town and clear-cut the forests and
gut the IRS and mark up the constitution on behalf of intolerance and promote the corporate takeover of the public airwaves
and to hell with anybody who opposes them.
This is a great country, and it wasn’t made so by angry people. We have a sacred duty to bequeath it to our grandchildren in better shape
than however we found it. We have a long way to go and we’re not getting any younger.
Dante said that the hottest place in Hell is reserved for
those who in time of crisis remain neutral, so I have spoken my piece, and thank you, dear reader. It’s a beautiful
world, rain or shine, and there is more to life than winning.