Metro Pulse/Snarls/Stating Our Cases

Comment
on this story

Making the status quo ante up

by Scott McNutt

Don't be in a state of anxiety about the state of the state or the state of the union (which, under President Clinton was, after all, just the usual state of affairs). If the government isn't running smoothly and our statecraft isn't working, we'll just pop open the statehood and check the state of things, maybe add a little Quaker State. And if we don't like the state it's in, we can just steer the ship of state into another state of being.

For example: If our state budget woes continue, we could send the state government back to state college (where territories learn how to be states). If we're truly worried, we might possibly declare a state of emergency (which was, after all, an entertaining TV show), or admit a state of confusion (which is, well, you tell me). Besides, if the government is truly falling apart, we'll just summon a statesman to perform a state assembly (batteries not included). And, sure, the state of our state may not be particularly stately, but it's exciting, isn't it? And that's better than a state of perpetual boredom (which borders on the state of semiconsciousness which borders on the state of catatonia which borders on the state of Rhode Island), an altared state (in which most people get married), or a state of Gracie (a delusional state in which the sufferer mimics the late George Burns' later wife). If we go ballistic statewide over the state budget, we'll just turn Tennessee into a state of war. Once we do that, our happy big orange place will inevitably turn into a police state.

On the other hand let's not just ignore our budget problems until we end up going to Egypt over them (that is, let's not go into a state of denial). We've got to stay in a state of alert and keep a positive mental state (which, admittedly, is most certainly not Tennessee). And if we must, we'll sue the state in state court to make the state's wrongs into state's rights. (OK, I admit that was bad, and I promise I won't do it again. By the way: I have never understood the distinction between "The State vs. —" and "The People vs. —" because I have always thought that We, the People, were the State; if there is a difference between the two, will our suit be "The People vs. The State"?)

Of course, without a state income tax, Tennessee may default on its debts and go bankrupt. Once a solid state, Tennessee may have to reduce its assets to a liquid state to pay its creditors. Then we might descend into a state of panic, even a state of insanity. If that happens, someone will wind up getting hurt. Then we'll have no choice but to turn state's evidence against our home state, because the state will have become an enemy of the state. Every citizen would be duty-bound to give a statement. So the Volunteer State would get taken to the state prison by the state police and then put into a state of shock by the electric chair.

The statehouse would be closed up and we wouldn't even have a stateroom to call our own. Then, oh, how we'd be wishing for a welfare state. Even a state church wouldn't be able to help all of us homeless souls. We'd be stateless, sleeping on benches in other state parks. Embittered, forlorn, hopeless, we'd pee on their state flowers and flip state birds at the happy states around us. We'd be reduced to sneaking onto their state farms and plucking state fruits from the state trees to stave off starvation. In a state of despair, fearing that soon enough we'll be laying in state, we'd look back, and we'd wonder how we ever got into the state we're in.

When that happens, though this may be stating the obvious, we need to remember that the idea that living in a state in the United States is somehow the natural state of things is, in fact, just a state of mind. Statelessness is humanity's natural state. Just be thankful it's not a gaseous state. Ooooo, smelly!