We were out and about last night in our quest for truth and insight into our New America, keeping a parking garage meeting called by our own version of Deep Throat (Ref: All The President’s Men, 1976).
Remarking about the unsettled nature of the current American landscape our tipster looked away, toed a discarded fast-food container and Holbrooked: “Americans are looking for a truth they cannot find.”
We kicked that around mentally a little bit and had to admit it’s true, or what passes for our version of the truth, which explains why so many seem committed to the tin-foil hat conspiracy theories currently polluting our landscape. We’ll just flat out state that we believe the Earth to be round and that Orange Pumpkin Boy will not be miraculously carried back into office tomorrow. Just ain’t gonna happen, so there.
Deep Throat asked us if we’d found out anything more about a heavy, multi-agency police raid in Moraga that supposedly/did go down recently and we told her what we’d been told: that it didn’t happen, despite several calls to the contrary. Smiling the maddeningly enigmatic smile of parking garage tipsters everywhere ours said: “You didn’t think they were actually going to tell you the truth, did you?”
Well, kinda, yes, though we always knew law enforcement types to be pretty good poker players, with all kinds of ways to skirt the facts. Anyway, we’re still kicking at that one when we can, and those folks who say it didn’t happen better hope a video doesn’t surface because, as we all know from the movies, there’s always a video.
Throat then asked about other stories windmilling around the Local Mystery Desk – Orinda Arsenal; Dedicated DUI Driver; Night Sniper – and we found ourselves falling back on the old newsie’s lament: “No one is willing to go on the record…“
We thought she was going to go all Jason Robards on us but Throat just smiled, looked up at the sound of parking garage tire squeal that made us look, too, and when we turned back around she was gone, leaving us to wait until she signaled her wish for a next meeting with a hummingbird garden stake positioned in a front porch flower pot.
On the way home we thought about all the things we don’t know about, picturing that giant warehouse with the Ark of the Covenant and all the other secrets of the world in the ending scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Our problem is we believe that warehouse exists, see, and it’s driving us nuts that we can’t find it.