The Descent of Nightfall on the Nation’s Capitol


At last the moment has arrived, the moment we were all expecting, not really dreading, because we knew all along it was going to come: far beyond gridlock and bickering, this is the real deal, total paralysis in Washington, DC. Here in the nation’s capital, the only thing that is changing is the light, as the night deepens in a purplish hue all around the fading dome of the US Capitol.

We can only now hold our collective breath. What’s next? Nothing. All the arguing and the haggling: it’s fading with the light. Congress has at last pushed itself over the brink.

What a show it’s been. We saw Ted Cruz’ 21 hour performance spectacle push the boundaries of the post reality beyond anything any artist could conceive. It was breathtaking, heartbreaking in its total perfection in the moment. No logic, no assault of the truth could break this man, he’s impenetrable. And given the paralysis that now grips Congress, he has been the ideal anesthesiologist to numb the collective senses of the United States Congress. Ted Cruz has put Congress out of its misery: no more pain, no more tension, no more hatred, no more vitriol, just mind-numbing confusion that in the strangest of ways, ironically calms the anxiety of rhetorical-hysteria. Ted Cruz is like the purple haze surrounding the US Capitol, pure hallucination, as our representatives float into the oozy never-never-land of government shutdown.

So sleep tight, I’m sure Congress will, when they enter into the next phase of their permanent vacation. But all is not so well for the rest of us who must navigate a future existential crisis sans the social contract that here-to-fore bound us all. Perhaps the ensuing anarchy might be entertaining, even intoxicating! None of us have actually lived through a REAL revolution. It might just turn into a raging party. Or, it might just be a journey into the darkness of a Hellish world only Dante might have envisioned.

As the light diminishes in Washington, DC, we are all waiting for an ending, for a word, for Godot, for a final squawk. Perhaps we’ll wait for Eternity.