"If It's Sunday, It's..."

     The slogan ends, "...Meet the Press," but in fact, Tam has me in the habit of watching all three of the over-the-air political shows, This Week, MtP and Face the Nation* on ABC, NBC and CBS respectively.  And then I tune over to one of the oldies channels and watch reruns of Superman (or a least let them play in the background).

     Superman is definitely a fantasy; there is no foundling from beyond the stars -- or even the next town over -- arriving in the nick of time to save us.  But I'm starting to worry that the morning political shows are a fantasy, too, hearkening back to a time of cordial disagreement, civil discussion, occasional compromise and respect for our Constitution and traditional norms of governance.  I used to be able to count on a significant plurality of legislators, judges and administrators to have a rudimentary spine, to stand up against overreach and for the rule of law, and now, as far as the eye can see, they're largely feckless, ineffectual and even compliant in the face of increasing accrual of power to the Executive branch.  They're all faffing around like Lois Lane† and Jimmy Olsen† in the grip of the bad guys, hoping some caped stranger will swoop in and save them.

     Ain't gonna happen.  They're not even going to get Spiderman webbing up the malefactors, making a few wisecracks and swinging away before the reporters and police show up.  Nope, not even The Tick (and a darned pity, too).  We're the grown-ups in the room and so far, we're striking out swinging, following the example of elected officials who can barely muster themselves to rock the boat as it slowly sinks beneath the waves.  (I have somehow managed to inundate the baseball stadium in the manner of the Roman Colosseum, which is perhaps an apt metaphor for our times.)

     It's rainin' crap.  Better grab a shovel (and put on a hat) while you still can.
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* Back when local radio stations were more than cookie-cutter satellites of big national owners and nearly every town had a CBS affiliate nearby, Face the Nation aired on radio a few hours after the live TV show ended.  Radio is much less tolerant of dead air and people talking over one another, so it needed editorial attention first. In a time of razor-blade editing of physical tape, turning out a coherent radio show that left the meaning of every speaker untouched over the course of an hour or two was a tour de force effort that was written up in trade press at least once.  They even kept several minutes of otherwise-silent room noise tape handy, to replace coughs, stammers, chair squeaks and other distracting sounds.
 
† I remain convinced that all of Clark Kent's coworkers know his "secret" -- they're newspaper editors and reporters, after all -- but realize he'd be terribly embarrassed if he knew his deception doesn't work, so they play along.  Besides, they get to work with Superman!