We can best be protected from extreme evil in the political sphere by spreading around power as much as possible. The philosopher king or the wise council of elders may be, in their pure forms, the most admirable and efficient forms of governance. They may bring the best of virtue, vision, majesty, bearing and trust. These forms may be the abject model of all seekers of wisdom and truth, all seekers of greater, better existence for greater, better political entities, systems, states, facts. Wisdom and virtue flow undiluted, unfragmented from implementer. Implementation is a dream..
Virtues in these epochs of rule are great but as it is with all such things the templates always seem to have equal and opposite flip sides. The greater good is matched by the greater evil and in real terms governance is best served when as a staunch representative of protection from harm. The positive is as a bonus…an unexpected bonus of maturity and purpose, reflection and wisdom…that which when it comes… survives…leaves hope.
This is as close to safety we can come to in a world dependent upon the rational and irrational hates and passions of the bubbling classes. Passion has its virtues…and its price.
In these aspects and respects…we crave our loved version of mass influence…our republic…our democracy. All done well, good may prosper, right may flourish, balance may be achieved. All done not so well…most of the mob survives the long knives, the hounds, the wolves, the cuts and the destruction.
Politics is kick ass and dangerous, armed and dangerous, dangerous and dangerous. Grateful we are for what we see as the limits to the mass dangers we face, in the forms of the base outcomes we can endure. We bless the phlegmatic, the powerless, the resigned and the the facts of livable survival. Seeking the better and the good is always the fools errand of the naive known to the knowing and the wise.
Thanassis Canbamis The Atlantic
Matt Mahurin Politico
http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0611/56525_Page2.html
politics, news, commentary, analysis Dominance Games / Politics http://dominancegamesb.wordpress.com/
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Lust Games / Void Games / Politics 
Dominance Games: An ode to the unknown communicator
Posted in current events, journalism, literature, News, opinion, political analysis, political science, Politics, Uncategorized, writing with tags Commentary, current events, Democracy, Education, Government, news, opinion, political analysis, political commentary, political fiction, politics, politics noir, power, Public interest, social criticism, writing on June 10, 2011 by B SchiffThe romantic twaddle of burnt rats and the longings and feelers and resources of the dupes of the sweet songs of love thrown to us from the pulpits of the sly.
Listen sweetly to the self loving poems and paeans of breeding, baring, privilege and wonder as he/ she puzzles over reason well for endearing ends. Never know things that go bump in the night. Always fear them. Never look, always see the little monsters outside of our rancid dreams.
Strife, petition, leering gratification. Gentrification. Our putrid little mirrors can reflect too much light, light that burns and singes, burns and singes in the dark corners of the constant night of holy ignorance. Heady rewards come to those who dance with the nimble and pristine. The precise. Lure and aphrodisiac. Heady rewards come to those who dance with the ones who shimmy well and perform well.
Characters and preeners. Dancers and singers. All manner of ribald show and tell come to us as we trundle on our merry little ways. Dismissive arrogance, weapons of masquerading follies attract us as cheap perfume. Cheap perfume attracts those for whom the mawkish and the patty functions best.
Pretty pictures and fancy illusory pieces. The flaccid aerial circuses we gawk at make us proud. Over sized performers in the trees waiting to fall off or to be picked by the tree pickers, we feel their pain. These trees bear strange tasty fruits, strange tangy nectars, the taste exotic, the after taste lingering majestically. The sirens sweep softly.
Junk yard cats and howling dogs go bay at the night, the moon. Fairy tales and sun rays define the joys and pleasures gained and sent by the grand operas of fondled passion and inebriated score. Contraltos serene always allay fears in holidays of dead beyond the pale of contrition.
We love the ones we love. lust, hell, dominance and greed are trips to be taken.
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The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…..the thrill..
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