Quis Custodiet Ipsos Custodies?

An exercise in contra-think

A note of stunned thanks to Chris N and Robin, whose incredibly generous tips have given us the coffee jitters!

The title of today’s rant comes from Roman poet Iuvenal’s Satires, VI.347–348. It is one of the most famous Latin phrases, at least among those of us who were hog-tied and forced to memorize conjugation and declension tables. If you are not familiar with the quote, it means, “Who watches the watchers?”

Senator Everett Dirksen (R-Illinois), in referring to profligate gummint spending, is reported to have quipped, “A million here, million there, and pretty soon you’re talking about real money.”

Of course, this was back in the 1950s and 1960s, when a million dollars still meant something. J. Paul Getty and Howard Hughes, with paltry net worths of around $1 billion each, were the richest men on the planet that published audited estates.

One final point to set up my rant du jour. The word “oversight,” like “cleave” and “sanction,” has the unique feature of being its own antonym. “The oversight committee investigated the oversight.”

I am a devoted contrarian. I support any cause that upsets the apple cart, and oppose it once it succeeds. Like the character Shadow That Comes In Sight, in the brilliant Thomas Berger novel Little Big Man, I prefer to ride my horse backward, bathe in dirt, and dry off with water.

Why would anyone want to live the life of a contrarian, I hear you ask. Excellent question. Go to the head of the class.

When I was a teenager, back in the Neolithic Era, I spent many a Saturday at Houston’s Museum of Natural Science (yes, I was a nerd). One of the most interesting installations there is still a giant pendulum surrounded by a ring of pegs. Throughout the day, the pendulum precesses through a full circle knocking down the pegs as it goes.

I would sit for hours watching the pendulum, that nominally demonstrated the Coriolis Effect, but which for me became a metaphor for all existence. I realized that the Universe is bipolar, swinging between extremes in an endless circle. When it reached one pole, that became the entrenched power, and the Universe inevitably revolted by swinging to the other pole.

Thus, while most folks are always catching up with the current narradigm, I am already moving toward the equal but opposite extreme. In this way, I have managed to stay ahead of the curve, but it doesn’t make me popular at cocktail parties. I am never on the side of the majority, which tends to brand me a social pariah.

To be fair, I also spent an inordinate amount of time at the Museum of Fine Arts, staring at Claus Oldenburg’s “Giant Soft Fan,” and Henri Matisse’s “Backs I, II, III, & IV”. Years later, I even did my Art History thesis comparing and contrasting these two works. I was fascinated by the concept of replacing hard metal with soft cloth, and soft flesh with hard metal. Those pieces appealed to my contrarian nature.

I haven’t become weird in my calcified years. I’ve always been like this. I blame left-handedness and red hair. I was never allowed to be “normal,” so I capitalized on being a little “off”.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, going against the grain.

The status quo is always corrupt. It becomes complacent in its role as the majority narradigm, and it must be cyclically torn down or the rot will lead to uncontrolled collapse. I have long advocated for someone like Trusk to come along and stir the pot—be it Ross Perot, Ron Paul, or the current president and his radical cabinet. The sediment of the majority has ossified and needs to be whipped into a frenzy to spark creativity, entrepreneurship and renewal.

That the Trusk Effect sent tidal waves throughout the global political structure in less than a month tells me that we’ve been long overdue for a good stirring. However, to someone like me, today’s neo-revolutionary is tomorrow’s dominant narradigm, and it’s time to start shifting the other way. After all, when everyone runs to one side of the boat, it capsizes. Someone has to be the ballast.

For Terry Gilliam fans, you’ll recall the scene in Time Bandits, when the dwarves go chasing after The Most Fabulous Object in the World, and poor Kevin is there warning them to slow down and think twice.

The Truskians are badly needed right now. The Bumbledicks have had free rein for decades and they’ve come to expect it as their birthright. Their wailing and gnashing of teeth sounds like a fleet of steam roller crushing oyster shells.

It behooves us to remember that Merka was founded by revolutionaries, and it eventually got complacent as a global empire. Trusk may be a revolutionary, but those who come after will eventually settle into complacency and corruption, because they always do.

To switch metaphors in mid-stream, it’s like riding a horse at full gallop: you have to give him full rein, but be ready at any moment to pull back and steer. If you’ve ever had a horse spook at full gallop, then you’re with me on this.

I’ve railed against NGOs and USAID and NED for years, not to mention the feral gummint in general. Nearly every president in my lifetime has pinky-sworn to rein in the thundering beast to no avail.

Raygun went on and on about lowering taxes and stimulating the economy. Bill Clinton crowed about the “peace dividend.” Shrub and Gored jawboned about “lock boxes” and tax cuts. In the end, none of them did anything to lower spending, and in every case increased spending on their pet wars and vote-buying.

Trusk may succeed in actually closing the Treasury spigot, but like a bull in a china shop, he is not likely to be delicate and judicious. One wonders how far out he has gamed The Plan to see how deep his budgetary machete will cut. I have no historical reason to trust his n-dimensional chess playing.

As I frequently point out, Jerry Garcia spent most of his adult life addicted to heroin and was still functional. He checked into rehab and went cold turkey, and within weeks he was dead.

Similarly, Trusk closed the USAID window and within days Indonesia declared a budget emergency and instituted “austerity measures”. The world has been mainlining Merkin taxpayer cash for a long time, and there are layers and layers of dependent junkies out here in fly-over world.

I’m in no way advocating for continuation of the corruption. The free-flow Franklins have got to stop, but folks should be mindful of the effects of sudden systemic shocks. Bracing for impact would be the prudent thing to do.

In addition to being a contrarian, I am an pessimistic optimist: I hope for the best outcome, but i expect the worst. I’m never surprised either way.

Trusk is applying a tourniquet to stanch a major arterial bleeder, but if he doesn’t loosen it here and there, the tissue below it will become gangrenous and necrotic.

It never hurts to wash with dirt and dry off with water to keep a balanced perspective.

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I bet you’re thinking I’m going to recommend Little Big Man (1970), but I’m going to subvert your expectations. Instead, I recommend Stanley Kubrick’s early masterpiece Spartacus (1960), with a cast of heavy hitters: Kirk Douglas, Lawrence Olivier and Jean Simmons (no, the other one). Kubrick’s use of lighting and composition make for a rich visual experience, and the story of a slave revolt is apropos.

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