There was a city council meeting last night, and there might as well have been a circle jerk for all the good it did for the city. Afterwards, everyone retreated to Studio’s and looked into their own personal mirrors, the ones that show the distorted reflections of wannabeens as serial in their abdication of responsibility as Larry Kochert ever was.
It’s a shame. Anyone got a novelty lighter to play with while the city rots?
I was present for eleven minutes of it before being ejected, and just as a courtesy, permit me now to inform readers that they shouldn’t hold their breaths waiting for me to apologize for telling the truth about a congenital liar, however infirm, aged and embittered she may be.
Won’t happen, folks.
But in the time afforded by my departure, and a few subsequent pints, the thought that kept returning was this council’s abject failure to achieve anything substantive.
Anything.
The excuse that is offered time and again is that times are hard, and wow, who had any idea how tough it was going to be, and damn, we have it rough! The state won’t help, and it’s someone else’s fault, and we can’t be bothered to read or to learn or to offer something – anything – that might represent a glimmer of creativity in a time of duress.
In short, we don’t know anything, we won’t learn anything, and we’d like for those of you less worldly than we are to return us to office next time, because we promise not to have a clue then, either, and we can go our merry ways.
Really? That’s inspiring, isn’t it?
Am I reading them incorrectly? Let me know, and I promise not to call you a liar. Unless, of course, you are.
