The Devil Went Down to Wisconsin

I've heard tell that some people can fiddle the devil out of hell and back down again. In Wisconsin we might just have heard a strain of that kind of music. About the time the cold was getting so deep that we thought it'd never go away and the ice on the lakes was still hard and we knew, we did, that the fish were fast asleep at the bottom.

I remember the sounds in the halls of the Capitol. During the day they were sweet and strong, those voices of Common People singing and chanting and laughing and shouting. Yes, that was sweet music, it made me feel happy to be there, joyful in my heart even though my toes ached and the winds stung my cheeks.

But, in the night, some nights, the music turned dark and dangerous and things happened behind doors when that music played. Whoever was fiddling then smoked the strings and the feet of those who met at dimly lit, walnut smooth desks, danced so feverish that the news in the morning came as though years had passed, it was that astounding. Deals were made, calls went out, interviews were given and many, many lies were told during that winter just passed. The Common People lost their promises, their jobs and their rights to ask for better pay and good working conditions.

And when the spring brought green to the muddy ruts around the Capitol and the sky took on a deeper blue, the fiddler was still in some room somewhere in that building. He was still fiddling so the men who made deals and told lies could keep dancing those crazy steps. They danced so hard they passed laws against the safety of the People! They made guns from their dancing and they laughed like maniacs as they scribbled the words - Concealed Carry. It was madness I tell you!

There's more than one fiddler. I know that now 'cause I am no longer a young one. I've seen some things. There's a fiddler playing in each and every office and Capitol that has those crazy, mad dancers who vote for guns and cuts and have red eyes that burn through decency and compassion. Their feet are swollen, painful and maybe even bleeding but they can't stop dancing, they can't stop taking from the Common People.

The Fiddler provides the music for terrible things. Why, you ask, would anyone want to dance to this music? Because the fiddler and his master make promises. If you can dance fast enough and long enough and wild enough and your dancing brings in more money and more power and more of everything, then you will be able some day to stop dancing and reap your reward.

But I know some things. That never happens. Never. It's a joke.

Power To The Common People!

p.s. The fiddling is loud today - can you hear it? The mad dancers are closing driver's stations in heavily democratic areas so those voters cannot get their state IDs and opening stations in predominately rethuglian areas. Someone has seen what's happening and is breaking the story. Thank goodness for people who hear different music!