It is a chill Sunday morn, and, as I often do this time of day, I have been perusing various news articles on the Internet. On most occasions, one or two articles will speak to me in some fashion—whether because of the import of the content, the quality of the writing, or some combination thereof—and I will post an excerpt and offer comments or critique here on the weblog. There are days, though, like today, where nothing in particular grabs me, and my restless meanderings on the information superhighway are paralleled by a restless meandering of thought and spirit. Given such, and wishing to provide some offering to any who might soon sojourn to this site, I have chosen—perhaps indulgently—to share some of the stray thoughts flitting at present through my consciousness.

I wonder how much Congress matters and what it means that, according to a recent NBC/Wall Street Journal poll, “only 16 percent now approve of the job Congress is doing — its lowest mark since 1992.â€? I understand that, historically, politicians in this country are rarely accorded great favor. Over a century ago, Mark Twain famously remarked: “Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself.â€? But what does it signify that those whom we select to represent us, to legislate on matters that directly bear on our safety and well-being, are so ill-perceived? And to what degree are the various scandals and abuses of power that invariably occur in the seat of government—lately all too much—the source or the product of our meager perceptions? I worry for this great republic and wonder now if its greatness has been less because of its leaders and more despite them. What might be possible and might we achieve as a nation if our political proxies were actually worthy of our respect and admiration, if the men and women who hold high office were recognized for their integrity and wisdom more so than their corruption and idiocy? It is all such a shame and a waste.

If the tragedy of 9/11 taught us anything, it was that the true heroes were not the self-important folks who made speeches atop the rubble but the selfless souls who attempted rescue and lay beneath the rubble. After such devastation, this nation desperately needed our leaders to be heroes, to seek justice on behalf of those who perished but in such a way that would do justice to their memory. But, instead of heroes, we received craven opportunists (and their followers) who exploited the tragedy and our subsequent fear and outrage for political and personal gain—bogging us down in an ill-advised military conflict, bankrupting our economy, and diluting our civil liberties. And so our wounds still fester. I feel it every day. The heroes for whom I long remain elusive as ghosts. They lay beneath the rubble.