Want the ultimate say in the saying?
Desire the absolute deed in the doing?
Long to be given the wink of validation? The nod of justification? The blanket approval for every wrestled decision that favors the inevitable costs of your free, free will?
Power sex? Not even John Edwards is vain enough to seek the counsel of the Almighty on this score. Political capital? Not even Goldman Sachs would go shopping to seal this deal. Blood oil? The repossession of Vladmir Putin's soul would fetch less in the yard sales of tomorrow than a Bush re-election bid would today.
If we tried to drill our way down to the molten core of our earthly endorsements it wouldn't look like the headlines of recent past. It wouldn't be staged as the imperial replay for pipeline supremacy. It wouldn't play out remotely -- like repayment odds on a sub-prime loan. It wouldn't fly like the rerunning of Repo Man cashing in on all this bad paper.
Just beyond the shadows of self-delusion lies the pinnacle of justification. It's not justice. It's not petrodollars. It's not even a rationale in rallying for or railing against. It's the simple ego proof conclusion that our actions speak for themselves with greater eloquence than we ever could. They have been heard by a jury of our peers and we re now free to go.
The only guilt on our hands derives from the hands we've been dealt. Whatever the counts of the indictment. No matter the scope of the consequences ... others consider our actions as "one of their own" without knowing us beyond that wink, and a glancing nod.
The stamp of approval is affixed to those sitting across from us in aisle 15, one divider ahead in the checkout lane, or idling in back of our rear bumper on the same off ramp. Our friends, our enemies, and those that do know us? Their collective inputs are powerless against the sway of the innocent bystander.
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