Joe Bageant

Lost on the Fearless Plain

 

Big Brother's got that ju-ju, Gaia's got the blues -- hologram, carry me home

By Joe Bageant
Ajijic, Mexico

I've spent most of this week watching American television and movies. I leave the TV on all night long. I toss and turn with my bad back, and bad lungs, catch a rerun episode of Two and a Half Men, or CSI, and conk out again. Then I awaken to the U.S. morning talk shows. It's a grueling regimen, only for the strong. Or the lonely. For periodic relief, I switch to Mexican television (be patient, I really am going somewhere with this). Mexican TV is not one iota better than US television, but is veeerrry heavy on the booty. More than heavy. Astronomical. Think all-but-bare tits and ass close-ups every fifteen seconds, straight through commercials, dramas, comedy shows, history shows, and even the news where possible.  Every show but the bullfights and that old nun who comes on at ten PM, who invariably drives me back to the U.S. channels.

Blogging toward the Kingdom

Booze, rage and justice in the participation age

Hey Joe,

I know it's painful for you to observe what is happening here in America, and a lot easier to stay drunk and not think about it in Mexico, but some of us are still sticking it out here and we depend on you to help us feel less isolated. That's probably more responsibility than you or anyone would want, but you started the conversation that confirmed our vague feelings of being screwed. Now you're the de facto leader of your own political movement. Betcha didn't mean to do that, huh?

Please don't make us all wait so long for each new essay, don't be one more person that hangs us out to dry. Sober up and post more often. The laboring classes need you and, believe it or not, your voice makes a difference to this country. Help us take it back from FOX, CNBC, and CBS.