In this case, it’s quite symbolic. Kick it all the way up North, where they belong i.e. with the NE liberals, the humanitarian, rhetoric meets reality…Here. Your immigrants. Your heart delights.
The political football. Venezuelan. Long ago, it was me. A local church which sponsored a Vietnamese refugee family was using me to motivate them (to find work): “Look, he has just arrived the day before. The next day, he found work…albeit night-shift janitorial” (they had obviously been told that “these people” needed to be self-sufficient immediately given the anti-sentiment of the post-VN era). You should have seen the face of the long and curly hair boy in leather jacket, obviously came loaded and more prepared for the US.
Everything (human bodies included) is up and qualified as “political football”, to be punted, tossed, thrown, carried and Hail Married.
After all, it’s the Fall and football season in America. Push them back, push them back, way back.
We love to be aroused. Stimulated. Nudged and pushed. Especially when it came from a bullhorn.
Slogans need to be short and sweet “take back our land” “back where you belong”.
Quite a schizophrenia: “Give us your huddled mass” yet at the same time “We’re not an open border”. Hence, PBS’ The US and the Holocaust series. (Aired by appointment only).
That red rope is not open to everyone. Got to grease the palm. Cash. Lots of it. America = Studio 54. We’re the good fellas.
This land is our (rich folks) land. First-mover’s advantage. Us vs them. The Others. The Venezuelan. The Vietnamese. The Venus (OK, let them in. “I don’t care, do U?”).
It was said that President Kennedy once told a close friend regarding Madame Nhu “that bitch has to stir everything up”… Quite a seductress. Dragon Lady. Affecting the course of a nation. Out of her sheer will. She was the one who punt the ball back then.
Now, with the desire to beat the populist drum, to shout from the bullhorn…people once again punt the ball. To up State, the Ivy League and the elite. Let them handle it. Go Dutch on hypocrisy. The unborn we love. The ones. who by sheer accident of birth, who are here, send them away. We’ll pay your way. By the bus load.
From San Antonio, we decried the inhumanity of that human-trafficking driver whose truck was without A/C which caused the death of many. Yet from the same town, rich FL governor uses state-coiffeur – the next link in the coyote chain – to pay their domestic connection to Martha Vineyard. Beautiful Island, the likes of which you have never seen.
In the US, at times, human = football, to be Hail Married and punt to where they belong.
Thang Nguyen 555 