Dear Gawdamighty, but you have fallen into a deep, moist, mawkish pit of sentiment, Booquemanne.

It strikes me that if songwriters poured their talents into writing similar schmaltz about the Demon Conservatism today, they could start a real whirlwind, a sea-change in the mass consciousness, a new awareness on the dangers and evils of mindless Me-tooism. Limbaugh would be out of business as folks went around humming snatches of ballads about poor matchmaker girls who dies for lack of universal Health Care, or starving women forced into prostitution who died on a back-alley kitchen table because abortions were illegal, and so on. This is an idea with a great deal of promise, and we have such irresistible archetypes to pattern upon, such as those provided herein by the Nobly Sentimental BOokmanne.


A