Long ago in a far-away land a man named Frank Baum published a
series of books intended, as he put it, “solely to pleasure the children.” Mr.
Baum had a particular concern that kids’ books of the era were too violent in
nature, and this was his attempt to combat the issue with gentler stories that
included dismemberment, death by crushing, chemical warfare, an apparent
acid-bath killing, and dognappings by creepy old ladies. Seriously, Frank?
As you may have guessed, the series was wildly successful, and
in 1939 elements from several of the fourteen books were blended into a single
script that became the film classic, The Wizard of Oz.
By far the most insidious aspect of the movie plot involved the
forced servitude of a young girl who is coerced into doing the dirty work for a
cowardly community. Before the town’s local authority, or “Wizard,” will grant
Dorothy her wish to go home, she is required to commit a felony against a feared
denizen of the realm. It’s like having the DMV require you to steal a
mobster’s prize limo before they'll issue you your learner’s permit.
The Wizard does not act alone - among his henchpeople is a
“good” witch, who shares a secret with him: the girl already has her ticket
home, in the form of a pair of snazzy pumps. Yeah, baby, take a gander! We’ll
give you the password later. In the mean time, watch your back, cuz green
witches can be nasty.
As is the case with most campaign promises, the Wizard reneges
on his to take Dorothy home, after her deadly exchange with the western menace
nets him a coveted broomstick. Having duped as well as traumatized the child
(she inadvertently commits murder, in the third degree, it should be stated for
the record, in the course of a burglary gone sour), the Wizard remains unmoved,
having never had the power to grant her wish in the first place.
The charlatan’s true colors are finally unearthed by Dorothy’s
Cairn Terrier (take care of your pooch and he’ll take care of you) as the outed
mere mortal delivers one of cinema’s great lines: “Pay no attention to the man
behind the curtain!”
Well the curtain has once again been peeled back, this time by
Mother Jones, and the wizard pulling the levers on the appreciative members of
the Lollipop Guild goes by the name of Mitt. It is perhaps not the most elegant
of monikers for a ruler manqué, but check out that committed jawline! And while
I think most of us living in Munchkinland realize there’s a double standard in
play across the kingdom, it’s still something of a eye-opener to find one’s
self transported for a moment inside the privileged walls of the Emerald City
to see what the secret mover/shaker society really thinks of the little people.
Even more revealing is the shocking ignorance of the insiders.
Or is it that? Can these characters really be buying what their wizard is
selling? Are they that hubris-engorged? Because after the stealth video hit the
yellow brick road (having been sequestered since May) it took all of a couple
of minutes for Mitt’s claims of the existence of a massive, hapless, militantly
entitled parasite class to be debunked by those infernal fact checkers. Most
damning of all was the fact that many of the described moochers were
self-avowed Mittsters.
But does it really matter to the insiders what the truth is?
Because Mitt could be up there singing to the Boca Boy’s Club, “Cut cut here,
spend spend there, stash some money off-shore, ha-ha!” and it wouldn’t matter
as long as he delivered the goods to these folks after the election.
Let’s cut the Bumpkins of Trailerville some slack, for these
well heeled clowns turn out to be the most prolific moochers of all. An astute
bean counter recently ran the numbers on one of Mitt’s chief monkeys, Sheldon
Adelson. Most normal humans would be aghast at the amount of chips Sheldon has
tossed onto the game table thus far, just as they can’t begin to imagine how
much more he has in reserve. But more important than that, the amounts he’s
tossed and may still toss at this election is not a donation to the cause of
good governance. It’s a business investment. And if it pays out, it will pay
out big time. How big time? He and his cronies will have bought the kingdom,
and you with it.
That’s one thing the talking face on the wall understands. The
Wizard of Mooch knows far too well how to take other people’s money and turn it
into a comfortable living for himself and his ilk. It’s the only game he knows
how to play. The rest is just big fat lips wagging, with a smoke effect thrown
in for shock and awe. Which is why I’m hoping a tornado tears the House apart
this November, and drops the debris on the Wizard of Mooch.
