Bonzo was a cartoon dog back then, consumed by greed and driven by cowardice. The Berlin suburb of Dalheim, “the city of party bigwigs,” was popular with Nazi officials after the Jewish Bonzos were evicted. Bonzopolis.
The Nazis run off the Jews, then become just like them – service civil servants afraid of their own shadows and concerned only with saving their own thin skins.
Washington DC is the mother of all Bonzopoli. Millions of little Neros pushing their pencils while Rome burns. They fight endlessly along so-called party lines, but everybody knows they’re all really on the same side.
Bonzopolis is an ego bubble populated by nameless bureaucrats who have appointed themselves absolute power and permanent job security. (Obamacare is their penultimate achievement.) All their friends are Bonzos. Even their enemies are Bonzos.
They’re more polite and friendly with their sworn enemies than ordinary people are with family and coworkers.
Nobody in Bonzopolis takes a stand on any position without hedging it a dozen different ways. Their language is a contradictory gobbledygook mélange of euphemisms and how- dare-you-accuse-me-isms. They can blather on a topic for half an hour without ever uttering a single definitive quotable statement.
Citizens of Bonzopolis are by definition psychotic. They live in a permanent break from reality. They print Monopoly money to pay for their excesses and shrug off any opposition or criticism with mindless monologues about “debt” that have less attachment to reality than a piggy bank to a pig.
Cowardice has become a virtue. Greed is the new Holy Grail.