Scumbags In Charge

Yes, I know. That is an offensive word in the above title. I hope to use it in the spirit of the late comedic genius George Carlin, mindful, as he was, that gratuitous use of verbal filth can be a "no-no" unless its author has a brilliantly funny point (in his case, such points were countless). I don't doubt for a moment that my usual stuffy efforts to persuade will not be in the same league with ol' George's H-bombs (and F-bombs) of mirth and that all I can hope for is to have made a valid point or two about vituperation, "dirty" words and the unpleasant beings among us who merit this particular epithet and similar ones (before a mug of hot coffee or a "click" onto another blogger's page is reckoned by you, dear reader, as the only way to stay awake).

I remember when I first learned the meaning of the compound word from male members of my peer group. I had not yet reached puberty (then about three summers into the future) and a malevolent connotation of the word was communicated to me by them. This was disturbing and frightening. "Scum" was already understood to refer to something vile, but I was not sure exactly even what that was. "Pond scum" was an unknown term for a city kid and the coining of the term as a highly insulting description of a morally bankrupt individual would not occur until the 1980s as far as I can recall. Also, the emotionally neutral term referring to any white or frothy collection of unwanted substance on the surface of certain boiling foodstuffs was not within the ken of a kid whose parents performed all the culinary tasks in the kitchen at that time.

Anyway, my "teachers" presented to me a crash course in the meaning of this receptacle and its contents. Again, both were conveyed to my young and inexperienced self as dirty and revolting things: my companions' vague descriptions of the "bag" only unsettling me more. My vision was of a kind of miniature hot water bottle (or a tinier version of that circular ice filled bag that an actor like William Powell in a 1930s mad ball comedy placed on his noggin to combat a hangover) that had to remain hidden from view along with its abominable load. All this further heightened my already growing fears about sexuality and adulthood. Why and how would one collect this fluid? Is it toxic? Does scum then only refer to what will come out of my penis in the near future? Can I forego this rite of passage? "No" I was told. "You can ignore it for awhile, but sooner or later you will experience it and have to deal with it." Someone, after all of these scary and confusing reports remarked, almost as an aside, that it would "feel good when it came out of you." At that point, my anxiety was so developed by my imagination that I concluded that "feeling good" might entail some chaotic, uncontrollable event, something akin to being tickled mercilessly until one realized that the laughing would never stop (not far off as a purely erotic description or fantasy, but totally lacking in any understanding of the expression of the beauty and divinity of the reproductive act, of course). I guess this may be how superstition and puritanism derived some of their powers. How unfortunate to have had as educators, those hardly more informed than myself and well short of the wisdom that would have best shepherded a kind of lamb who could have been reassured that there was no slaughter in the offing along the journey to becoming a man.

It is interesting to note, that after this episode of more than fifty years ago, my miseducation was after all, revealed to be not completely devoid of certain truths. That is, any bodily fluid or waste, once expelled, is not regarded as sanitary or usually anything but disgusting. This is not an exclusively Victorian or repressed world view. Also, a condom is, when viewed simply and dispassionately, an unnatural device with no commonsensical reason, as far as a child could see, to be used to clothe one's "pee-pee." Though probably nearly as old as the first copulation in history, the bag baffles the guileless of any age. Its user seeks to thwart nature, and as with most human manipulation, unpleasantness always seems to be right around the corner, regardless of the success or failure of the device's purpose. Highly functional (at least generally and in its intent), it speaks to our unfailing inclination to try to control events even at the expense of unbridled carnal pleasure and, obviously, the creation of a new human being. The "bag" is, consequently for me, a repugnant object philosophically if not physically: the former adverb referring not to any "ick" factor but again, to the simple but ugly perversion of thwarting the medium by which human life may continue. The latter adverb could only be applied positively ( as in "attractive" rather than "repugnant" object) , I feel, by some pretentious so-called artist who in the tradition of "Piss Christ" and other Mapplethorpe-type phony art might argue for the "beauty" of the intensely green thorax of a house fly in proximity to a sun drenched, richly brown pile of dung and, by that logic, the supposed loveliness of a flesh colored, flattened, torn and wrinkled cylinder of rubber or lamb's skin, a full moon's rays causing its contents to glisten on a city sidewalk with "high" inducing gasoline fumes dispersing slowly from the recent proximity of the "bag" to a "muscle" car whose driver just "peeled out" a nano second after "peeling it off." So, confident, though prayerfully, that these cultural misfits are still a tiny minority (the "artistes" that is…. the neanderthals who negotiate tons of sheet metal along streets and highways with the help of high compression internal combustion engines will always be with us, and in abundance, despite employing, ironically, prophylactics to "have their cake and eat it too"….I am not THAT delusional) I do feel safe in averring the following as a societal consensus: "scumbag" is a joltingly and exceedingly unpleasant word. And as a richly deserved term of contempt, it should be applied to describe only a very few persons, though it's awfully tempting to increase the use of its application as an appellation, given the state of the world in 2011 A.D.

Well, who are the top scumbags today? The truly scary thought is that a huge plurality of them (if not a majority) would proudly step forward rather than shrink back if one began a roll call: the militancy and self-congratulatory habits of the stupid, despicable and narcissistic now having reached pandemic proportions. Well, before naming names, I'll state unequivocally that this dubious "badge" or "bag" of distinction needs to be awarded, as the title of this blog implies, only to powerful persons, those "in charge" who have royally screwed these United States, the world and the vast majority of us who, though also sinners indeed, have by and large, because of our relative impotence in affairs of state, and as effectual leaders in ethics and religion or grand finance, have amassed mostly just a relatively few tons of venial peccadilloes and have only, in a few cases earned the slightly less odious title of "Pond Scum" (post 1980, non-lacustrine meaning of the term). Some politicians are difficult to place, i.e. in either the S.B. or P.S. category. By the way, for concision and space, as well as for the more puissant effect of minimal use of "dirty" word vituperations, the above abbreviations will from now on and herein be primarily used. An excellent example of a "borderline" case (in more ways than one), is the thoroughly unpleasant fellow from Massachusetts, the very recently announced resigner from Congress, Mr. Barney Frank. For all his sustained nastiness, wrongheadedness on ALL issues vital to America's best interests and even his major role in nearly successfully destroying the U.S. economy with his "bananas banking" schemes (his handiwork still capable, like a terminal disease, of accomplishing, whether intentionally or not, the goals, now in sight, born from his poisonings), we can only decorate ol' Barney with the highest ranking in the also-ran league of vileness. Let's ceremoniously place on his shoulders the epaulets of a five star general in the Army of Pond Scum, oops…P.S. (the promotion that I hereby bestow upon him sure as hell ain't P.C.). Bravo Barney! Only his distaste and weariness for the coming 2012 campaign/war against the radical Left (him and his buddies) bumps Frank from S.B. status, though he no doubt would have been a mere buck private in that more loathsome man's army of S.B.s.

No brainer, genuine S.B.'s? A card carrying member must be living and still in power, i.e. causing mayhem and great suffering in the here and now. But to give an idea of the degree of dastardliness required, here's a short list of former but relatively recent members whose incredibly richly deserved demises or incarcerations are the sole reasons that they no longer are the urgent objects of good men's wrath or brightly listed names on a current Grand Marquee of Shameful Ones:

1.Osama bin Laden; 2.Saddam Hussein; 3.Moammar al-Khaddafy; 4.Bernard Madoff; 5.Orenthal James Simpson (shall never forgive the sullying of that happy childhood memory for so many of us and of its abbreviation…. one of the world's favorite breakfast beverages, plus epitome of good health, goodness, flavor and good taste: orange juice and its having to share its initials with this horrific psychopathic murderer).

….And, in the category of unalloyed, warts and all TOP S.B.'s IN THE WORLD TODAY……the envelope please!

Well, complete the list of names as you see fit, Mr. & Ms. Blog-ee. Again, dirty words/names should be used sparingly and sometimes the exposure of and confrontation with evil (though so often vital and never to be shrunk from when push comes to shove) can be especially effective strategies through stony silences and determined shunning that can choke off the oxygen of these S.B.s (a.k.a. S.O.B.s) who should not be permitted to share this planet's supply of it. You know who you are!