Broad

This ground ivy (Glechoma hederacea) spreads from the fence line into the yard. It sends innocent shoots across the surface of the grass and over time they settle in, roots dig in and leaves shoot up to shade out the grass. When you pull out a set of leaves, you find a tangle. They not only flower and waft seeds with the wind, they are perennials, regrowing every spring from root stock and vines. Out from the edges, this plant creeps towards the center, engulfing everything in its path and dominating the surface soil when its roots are firmly in place. It reminds me of the tendencies of right-wing ideas during the past twenty years. The slow creeping towards the center, the engulfing of everything else. One day, a fresh green lawn of social justice and respect for humanity, the next, nattled roots and broad leaves, one single ivy, no grass. We must guard against the invasive species of ideas that threaten the foundation of our republic and the core of our human values. We have it in our hands to do things differently and disallow these corruptions of decency, but we have grown complacent. The ivy doesn't look very threatening one day to the next, it only reveals itself in the long view of seasons and years. Then one day, for example, hundreds of thousands of helpless Americans are left to starve and die in a flood we made possible, and the ivy has crept across every corner of the land and we cannot respond, because we no longer care, institutionally. Sure, from your livingroom, those faces and the stories are wretching. But we no longer have the social tools that allow us to act quickly on our horror. George Bush is merely the culmination. Katrina is just one of those events that pulls back the curtain and reveals the man at the levers, and his feet of clay. We should be ashamed, and begin today to start an invasive set of ideas all our own.