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The State of Lala Land, USA by Bob Jackson Technically,
Lala land is still a territory. Though
the most populous region in the country, the powers-that-be never
kick-started the constitutional process to ratify our 51st
state – the state of willful self-delusion.
As a former resident and frequent visitor, I don’t want to
disparage Lala or its people too much.
No one makes plans to move there.
You sort of pass through at the first highway rest stop and never
quite get back on the road again. The
lure in Lala land for people is the Wishful Thinking Wells.
There are thousands of them, and people just love to come and
stand on their banks and toss in their clipped Federal Reserve coins.
Unfortunately, there are all manners of roadside hucksters by the
wells hawking miracle cures, free lunches, and all sorts of make-believe
crap. What’s a body to do?
The spiels sound so enticing in the beginning.
Even if you’re wary of the con men, sometimes it’s someone
you know and like that you follow into Lala.
I say again, it’s terribly easy to get lost in there and takes
some growing up to get out. Let
me give you my case in point. In
my high school group of friends, we had one guy who was a deadbeat and
pathological liar. Otherwise,
he was a wonderful guy. He
was funny, loyal and would have your back in a tight spot.
Just don’t ask him where he bought his shoes.
He may have bought them at Montgomery Ward’s department store,
but he would tell you K-Mart. There
was no reason to lie, mind you, because you didn’t care from where the
shoes came. Lying was simply
as natural to him as stink on a skunk.
And since he spent money – literally – as if there was no
tomorrow, he always needed it and was always concocting some new lie to
coax a ten or twenty out of one of us “until payday.”
Well (shameful admission time), we loaned the guy money for years
and took turns becoming indignant when he wouldn’t pay us back.
Of course, because we liked him, we always found reasons to keep
loaning him money like “he has a job this time,” or “he wouldn’t
screw me this time after he saw how mad I got last time.”
I didn’t realize it at the time, but we had followed him into
Lala where you sort of like the people, and you’re always hoping the
latest slice of baloney you keep eating is finally going to be a good
piece. Now,
while I will grant that Lala is an easy place into which to stumble, at
least pass by the carnival acts on the shoulder of the road and save
your gullibility for friends or deadbeat in-laws.
A stand with an elected or unelected apparatchik salesman
shouldn’t even give you a moment’s pause.
For example, look at the 9-11 “commission/think-tanks/media
whores/take-your-pick” booth. Most
of the barkers shouting to sell you something are professional liars
who’ve been discredited as recently as “last month/the day before
yesterday.” Still,
millions of people stop and gawk. I
mean, one supposes a peasant living in southern “Hey,
buddy, wanna buy a piece of cakewalk in Living
in Bob Jackson is a business analyst in Bowie, MD. He's currently completing a novel of libertarian adventure for younger readers. His website can be found here.
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