Editorial: Rich men northeast of Safford

Gila Herald File Photo

Column By Mike Bibb

“Livin’ in the new world

With an old soul.

These rich men north of Richmond

Lords knows they all just wanna have total control.

Wanna know what you think, wanna know what you do,

And they don’t think you know, but I know that you do.

‘Cause your dollar ain’t shit and it’s taxed to no end,

‘Cause of rich men north of Richmond.”

Rich Men North Of Richmond, Oliver Anthony

Every now and then, a song’s lyrics grab folk’s attention.   Its rhythm and message resonate with so many millions of social media listeners, that its popularity has “gone viral,” as they say.

A similar protest composition released in 1969 by Creedence Clearwater Revival, “Fortunate Son” was in response to Washington politician’s kids seemingly exempted from serving in the military during the Vietnam War.

Everyone else was subject to the draft — including, myself.  In order to avoid being randomly inducted into the Army or Navy, I chose to voluntarily enlist in the Marine Corps. 

Thinking, if I’m going to be shipped to South Vietnam and tangle with North Vietnamese combatants, I might as well get the best training available.

Which, at the time, was the USMC.

I’m not convinced that adage is true today, considering Biden’s woke indoctrination of our military services.  Where Navy Admirals are men transitioning into women, white Army Generals are confused about their whiteness, and drag queen shows are deemed appropriate entertainment.

Is this something the Chinese, Russians, and Iranians should fear?

I doubt it.  A military led by officers who are more concerned about social, racial, and political correctness is not a fighting force to be overly concerned with.

Our enemies are out to kill us, not quibble over race disputes, skin color, gender identity, or party ideologies. 

Good grief, this is the real world — a far distance from Tic Tok foolishness.  There are actually people looking forward to the day when they can overwhelm us economically and militarily.

They buy our debt and steal corporate secrets.  Hack into banking accounts, retirement services, and government agencies.

This is expected.   It’s the way things work today.  Computerization and satellite surveillance have made the process easier.  Our every move is recorded by cell phones, cameras, and online purchases.

Little wonder the music world is composing songs about it.  It’s too big a phenonium to be ignored.

Even these discomforts could be better tolerated if we had a government more interested in looking out for our safety and protection.

Like it’s supposed to do.

Instead, Washington’s puppets dance and twerk to a different tune, caught up in their own make-believe world of pronouns and confused sexuality to such an extent a female Supreme Court Justice admits she can’t define what a woman is.

This nonsense is what our tax dollars are subsidizing.  

Little wonder we’re now $34 trillion in debt and our national borders are practically nonexistent.

For at least the second time, our president has refused to visit a couple of American communities devastated by a chemical train derailment and horrific wildfires.

He’s just too busy.

However, he does manage to find time to go on vacation every few days and send Ukraine billions of your tax dollars.

Oh, I forgot.  Joe pledged to give the residents of the little town in Maui, Hawaii – nearly totally wiped out by fire – $700 each to help out.

Whoo-hoo!  Way to go, Joe.  One of your vacation days costs us more than that.

Now, that state and federal grand juries have just about criminally indicted everyone it considers a threat to Joe’s reelection in 2024, he’ll have even more time to hang out at the beach and lick ice cream cones.

At least Nero provided fiddle music as Rome burned.

“Yeah-yeah, some folks inherit star-spangled eyes, 

They send you down to war, Lord.

And when you ask ’em, ‘How much should we give?’

They only answer, ‘More, more, more, more.’

It ain’t me, it ain’t me,

I ain’t no fortunate son.”

Fortunate Son, Creedence Clearwater Revival, 1969

The opinions expressed in this editorial are those of the author.