America. It's what's for dinner. We wait with painful expectation for the next scandal (Kerry hates the troops! Democrats are terrorists!), the next lie to be manufactured, the next script to be written and the roles for us to be assigned. Tell us anything, and if you use the right buzzwords, we'll fall for it. Like these little guys below, we get whipped up into such a lather that we simply can't contain ourselves anymore, and flop! We go hooves up in a paroxysm of dither and ferment:
A week later we won't even remember who all the fuss was about, but for a few hours the scandal will be the only thing that matters, and the powers that be will have taken that momentary abdication of our power to work their will.
The goats, having served their purpose, are sold off for meat.
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