The Troubled Therapist

February 14, 2012

Mitt Romney, Rick Santorum and Ritalin Marsmallows

You know I got to take it easy. I saw the lemonade kid hawking Ritalin marshmallows for good times and a whole bunch of “see you laters”. And it got me to thinking. The world is a cheap theatre. We are all patrons — some paying, some forced-contributors and the ones like me: interpreters bogarting reality.

Hey Mr. Spaceman won’t you please take me along … hey Mr. Spaceman … u’mm … what [?]

Why is Mitt Romney singing a long time gone? Surely he can’t stand the light of day. Oh he speaks out against the madness, but he is what he speaks out against as he tries to get himself elected. And the madness: A history of many physical complaints beginning before age 30 years that occur over a period of several years and result in treatment being sought or significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning is really a long time coming. Or so it appears in mirrors.

Really.

All Mitt wants to do is be friends with the many of his personas — inspected or rejected. In this I see him as an interpreter bogarting his reality in a clandestine way so far from where he left himself after promising not to do like he did — now or in the future. He must fly. She must fly. Who? Whom? Mitt? Who knows? He doesn’t.

And the lemonade kid hawking Ritalin marshmallows…? His whole bunch of “see you laters” have harvested into cultish boredom respective of the introspective culture shock Rick Santorum has embraced and released to the public in numerous debates and hefty Pennsylvania earmarks earmarked for open hands before clasping in prayer. Oh he’s craftily crafted innocent enough, but don’t let his looking like the Big Boy statue serving burgers in Warren, Michigan fool you or the many personas [Romney] Newt Gingrich wishes would fade away on the street where he lives sufficiently breathless and fat. Yes, Newt too wishes he could fly, figure out reality and figure spaghetti dinners disguised as lasagna metaphors and historical bipedal histrionics.

Newt is such a fig.

Hey Mr. Spaceman I want to come along. Hey Mr. Spaceman … I’m so tired, my mind is on the blink …

I didn’t realize the effective nature of my treatment coinciding with a history of many physical complaints beginning before age 30 years that occur over a period of several years and result in treatment being sought or significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning. My patients can see what I see and I need you Michele Bachmann.

Can you hear me knocking?

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