You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says
"It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?"
And somebody else says, "Where what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God
Am I here all alone?"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel
To be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible"
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

You've been with the professors
And they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read
It's well known

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word "NOW"
And you say, "For what reason?"
And he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?"
And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin' around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Copyright © 1965; renewed 1993 Special Rider Music

I laugh now when I hear journalists complaining that the CIA or the FBI didn't "connect the dots" prior to 9-11, because connecting the dots is something that their own profession is supposed to excel at, and yet they just can't seem to do it. After years of Republican incompetence, corruption, malfeasance and ideological-related blindness, the media still has a difficult time seeing how it all fits together. There's nothing particularly cryptic or complex about the way the Bushies and their extended right-wing infrastructure works -- they are, in fact, either quite up front about what they're doing, or so transparent that they might as well not be lying, and yet the MSM can't seem to see what's right in front of its eyes.

There are only four possible reasons why the media is unable to glom onto what the New Right-Wing Establishment is up to: massive incompetence, gross stupidity, shameful naivete or bald complicity. We know the problem with Weekly Standard, the Wall Street Journal editorial page, Fox News, Rush Limbaugh, Matt Drudge, the Washington Times, the New York Post and their ilk: they're just cogs in the machine, acting under direct orders from the top via RNC talking points.

So what about the rest of the Mr. and Ms. Jones's out there? -- What's the reason for the rest of the media not to be able to see, after 5 long years of Bush misdeeds and GOP crookedness, that something is happening and it's not very pleasant, not good for this country, and not going to stop until journalists start accurately reporting just what it is.

Something is definitely happening here, and you damn well better start reporting what it is, Mr. Jones.