The rodeo in D.C.
Appearing before my eyes, while watching the evening news, was a large neon sign that read, “D.C. Wreaking Ball Rodeo” today.
The sign also featured in flashing lights, a bull named “Intellectual Justification,” known for its erratic behavior!
Then in the rodeo arena I saw clowns, political operatives, who wore either red or blue costumes. They feed the people seated in the stands disinformation, so that the citizens could hurl partisan propaganda, at others whom they opposed, seated on the other side of the arena.
As the loud speakers around the arena came to life, and Lee Greenwood’s singing began to mix with the dust in the air, people in the stands rose to their feet and put their right hand to their chests. Lee Greenwood sang ” … cause the flag still stands for freedom, and they can’t take that away…”
A gate at the opposite end of the arena was suddenly opened, when Greenwood began to sing the chorus “… and I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free …”
Running into the rodeo arena were many Congressional members, wearing either red or blue striped prisoner clothes. Some of them stumbled right out of the gate, and all of them were hunched over with the heavy weight they carried.
Because on their backs were strapped saddles, and riding on those saddles were lobbyists dressed as monkeys. Each of those monkeys held a pole with wads of cash, dangling from the other end, just in front of their mount’s eyes.
Those Congressional members wearing red stripes, seemed programmed to bear to the right side of the arena, in a counter clockwise movement. While those wearing blue stripes, were programmed to keep to the left side of the arena, in a clockwise movement.
At my end of the rodeo arena it was ground zero, where the two opposing lines, after following the arena’s perimeter, began to collide. The scene became a mass of gridlock, as the people carrying the monkeys on their backs, would collide, stumble, and fall.
But the monkeys would not let their mounts change course and avoid the gridlock. Instead, these monkeys dug their spurs into the sides of their mounts, spurring them onward into the fray. Hmmm…
The participants in the rodeo arena were now getting battered and bruised, and many citizens in the stands cheered the chaos. Congressional aides with stretchers were seen running into the fray, carting away the injured.
As the loudspeaker blared more music, I heard Lee Greenwood sing this chorus again, “…I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free …”
Then the gate at the opposite end of the arena opened, while some in the gridlock cheered, many others groaned about the events which would come.
This time it was a raging white bull, as the President stormed into the arena. The long hair on the bull’s head was bleached blonde, and combed back toward his neck. The bull displayed a large red banner that was draped over its back. On each side of the bull, printed in gold letters, was “Make America Great Again.”
The bull’s rodeo name was “Intellectual Justification,” and he was so wild and erratic that no one could ride him.
My attention was drawn once again to the gate at the opposite end of the rodeo arena as Lee Greenwood sang, “… and I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free…”
This time a wiry steer named “Equal Justice for All” came running into the arena. Behind him came nine people wearing black robes, but the robes obviously limited their freedom of movement. These Supreme Court Justices chased after the steer, each hoping to wrestle it under their personal control.
As the steer ran into the fray, the bull charged at those wearing black robes; all the while monkeys dangled their cash on poles over the scuffle. As the justices tumbled about in the fray, their black robes flipped up, exposing the red or blue union suits that they wore underneath.
The bull was increasingly frustrated by not always getting his way, and the number of people in the stands taunting and teasing him was growing to the point that some of the citizens wearing the red or blue sashes and bandanas jumped into the arena, trying to manipulate the bull’s actions.
Lee Greenwood again began to sing, “…and I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free…”
Then the gate at the opposite end of the arena was opened a fourth time.
Into the arena came the press corps, galloping on their stick horses. They wore white cowboy hats, and some tried to twirl their ropes over their heads. Part of them rode on red stick horses, while others rode on their blue stick horses.
In front of them scampered an elusive calf named “Truth.” , which darted under and around the bull. The bull, the steer, the Justices wearing black robes and the Congress people with monkeys riding on their backs. All the rodeo participants tried to grab it, but “Truth” was always just out of reach. Hmmm…
Try as they could, the Press couldn’t quite rope the calf named Truth. Instead they roped the bull, the Congress people with monkeys on their backs, the people in black robes, and citizens in the stands. They even roped children in the stands, wearing “Make America Great Again” hats.
As their lassos were thrown in all directions, the press corps even roped each other, and their ropes became a tangled mess.
The loudspeakers continued to blare as Lee Greenwood began to sing “…and I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free…” Now some citizens in the stands became emboldened and impatient, how can we be truly free they asked, if the framework of the rodeo arena still stands?
Groups of the citizens from both the left and right side of the arena began tearing at the framework. Driven on by shouts of encouragement from the rodeo participants, the people became crazed with a deconstructionist purpose.
I rose from my seat to protest their destruction, but something caught my eye in front of me. Carved into a wooden surface I could see some letters. I grabbed an errant water bottle that had been thrown my way, to wash the dirt off the wooden framework.
The carving now spoke to me from the past, as I read these words: “The more you observe politics, the more you’ve got to admit that each party is worse than the other.”
The carving ended with: “W. R. sat here.” (W. R. being another hayseed philosopher named Will Rodgers.)
Ralph Dotterer Jr. is a lifelong Nittany Valley farmer, hayseed philosopher and barnyard artist whose roots in the same soil go back almost 200 years.