Can good and unswerving folk progressives see the light? Why, yes they can, chanting “Sanders 2020” when the F-35 Senator from the gun-happy state of Vermont raises his coffee-shop voice to thunder once again, snookering the easily swooning good folk yearning for a savior to appear in Washington. Remember, this is the willing, paid-up member of the US Senate, a club of ghastly, fully gibbering Christian power brokers. Sanders issued a joint statement in 2013 with the other members of the tiny state’s elected pols:
The Air Force decision to base its newest generation of planes in Burlington is a tribute to the Vermont Air National Guard, which is the finest in the nation. It reflects the Guard’s dedication to its mission and long record of outstanding performance. The Air Force has made clear that this aircraft, which will anchor our national air defenses, is the Air Force’s future.
All right, Brooklyn Bernie, way to applaud the on-going funding of the empire’s war machine! Only, you call yourself, get this, not a member of the “liberal elite,” that old buzzsaw of the, well, liberal elite. Here the old wind-up coffe-shop intoner belts it out again, slavering up a defense of Trump voters as “not racist, sexist, or zenophobic” – right, not at all, not in the least.
We need a Democratic Party which is not the party of the liberal elite but a party of the working class of this country. We need a party that is a grass roots party, a party where candidates are talking to working people, not spending their time raising money for the wealthy and the powerful.”
Worker good, “liberal elite” bad. Presumably, Bernie like to sit and talk hermaneutics with his car mechanic. He’ll smash some two-by-fours together, then recline for an uplfting salon roundtable with his grease monkey friends. Brooklyn Bernie, and his salt-of-the-earth populistes – one big happy crew of smack-talking, hard-working good ole’ boys without much edumacation to trouble their minds with.
This cult of the veneration of the “worker” belongs to a different era, though it was just as bogus then when Marx drooled over representing authentic he-man worker-drones. Robots are making our crap now – should they, and they alone, be called on to adjudge the worth of competing political policies? Why does racist, sexist Archie Bunker get pride of place in this musty, bizarro version of the pantheon of innate goodness?
Sanders peddles this vision of righteous, sweet-swinging real America that is just as false as the Tea Party white supremacist one – all populists are engaged in willful fantasy about how the real dummies are the real smart ones. Nothing in Sanders’ Chevrolet America has ever seen the light of single passed bill, and he would be about as reliable as an ad campaign to bring about a “political revolution” from his position as the eminence grease of the party he doesn’t even belong to. Progressive saviors have gone down in flames in recent America, one by one: Jimmy Carter, Jesse Jackson, Dennis Kucinich, John Edwards, all the sweet-talking boys without a band. They all go down, eventually, from pol to pietist to pundit. In speech after speech they elicit the latent desires for easy, soft political change, but to play in the sordid field of politics, they conspire to support and sign off on F-35s, on fascist Christianism, on Israeli apartheid, on deals and equivocations and immoral connections to the supersystem.