This, my friends, is 85-year-old Gloria Vanderbilt! Gloria is, of course, not just mommy to the journalistic cipher Anderson Cooper, but also the never-laboring heiress-socialite great granddaughter of railroad robber baron Cornelius Vanderbilt, one of the fine figures who helped ensure that rail transport in the USA would be privately owned and widely despised, rather than publicly provided and widely beloved.
I hereby nominate Gloria as the official 21st-century cover-girl for our corporate overclass. She’s just absolutely perfect! Way decrepit and long past any pretense to vigor, she epitomizes the de rigueur look of our times: The dyed, implanted fake hair. The scramble for each and every possible plastic-surgical denial of reality. The vapid self-satisfaction and outdated posings in the face of blatant irrelevance and onrushing death.
Well, bravo, hmm, hmm! How true-to-life can one possibly be, hmm, hmm?
One catches the general principle at work (and I use that word “work” ironically) here. It’s a slight adaptation of old Corny’s classic admission about class power and the (non-)rule of law: Reality? What care I about reality? Hain’t I got the money?
Yesterday, I ridiculed Obama’s ridiculous promise to waste $4 billion “helping” the mass-murdering automotive corporations.
If that’s such a bad idea, then what’s a better one?
Well, it sure ain’t rocket science:
For starters, moving toward better cars is already happening. Why in the world should the public have to pay for that, even at Obama’s pathetically paltry level?
What we need instead is to build ourselves modern intra- and inter-city railroads, and make all public transit free.
As to the money, nobody batted an eye about running the Iraq Invasion via deficit financing, and that criminality doesn’t come close to providing the macro-economic stimulus that building real railroads and funding free public transport would. Whatever deficits would be required up front would probably be gone within a few years, as a sea of good new jobs for workers added new paychecks and tax revenues.
Of course, none of this is going to happen, barring a massive democratic uprising. Corporate capitalism cannot survive without cars-first transportation in the USA. Hence, more roadkill is the only option that will be “on the table.”
In Europe and Japan, where they have spent and do spend a fraction of what we Americans have spent and do spend on transportation, they have fantastically fast, safe, pleasurable-to-ride, energy-efficient, and generally ever-improving modern railroads. We, of course, have the intentionally starved, dilapidated national embarrassment of Amtrak, plus the fantastically expensive, wasteful, and locally and geopolitically dangerous autos-über-alles system to which the iron horse was long ago sacrificed here.
Of course, another major marker of our overclass’s extreme hostility to sane transportation priorities is the airports-and-airplanes shuffle that (kind of) fills the gaps left by our scandalous lack of modern inter-city railroads. Like the dictated-from-above cars-first arrangement it (kind of) helps to patch up, that system is not only multiply and generally inferior to the rail systems they have built in Europe and Japan, but, being based on the burning of petroleum, is also under extra-severe stress these days.
Death of the Airline Industry I knew I was in trouble when I checked in and the Northwest departure board behind the ticket desk said the 5:39PM to Minneapolis was “delayed.” That’s when you know you’re in for an evening of, at least, being lied to and fucked around. Up at the gate, they let it be known that the 5:39 would now leave at 6:08. That was cool. I had a two-hour layover in the Twin Cities for my connection to Duluth. As it happened, though, they didn’t board us until 6:00. We pushed back at 6:30, taxied out to the runway, and then sat there for another hour. About halfway through that wait, the pilot got on the PA and said they were “waiting for their numbers.” A half hour later he came back on the PA and said the plane was “over its weight limit” and we had to go back to the gate and drop some people off. Huh…? This was a small regional jet. There were 12 rows of two across, and there were a few empty seats. So, we get back to the gate and we sit there for another half hour while a technician comes on board with a clipboard and palavers with the flight crew. It’s now two hours past the original schduled departure time. So even if we left that instant, I’d miss my connection to Duluth and be stuck in the Minneapolis airport all night. As it happened, the pilot asked for 13 volunteers to get off the plane. (There was some grumbling about the obvious illogic of a plane designed with 48 seats being unable to carry 36 passengers… but let’s not even go there….) If they couldn’t get 13 volunteers, the pilot said, they’d cancel the whole flight (and then everybody would be fucked, I inferred). I got up with a bunch of other volunteers — thirteen, finally — and straggled off the plane. We hung around the gate for another hour and half waiting to get re-booked for tomorrow, and to get our gate-checked luggage back. The most amazing thing about the whole misadventure is how dim the Northwest employees acted. From the flight crew to the gate agent, nobody really seemed to know what was going on or know what they were doing. I actually don’t know if the plane ever did leave. It was still parked at the gate when I finally left the airport at 9:30. By the time I got home it was 10:00 PM. I have to get up at 3:30AM to make a 6:00AM flight tomorrow. (Sigh….)