Howie Carr's Fiery Call: Dragging the Canton Crowd Back to the Stone Age

Well, here we are again, folks. Another week, another fresh batch of head-scratching absurdity bubbling up from the cauldron of what we now affectionately call "progress." And this time, our spotlight shines on Canton, a town that, God bless its heart, seems intent on outdoing itself in the race to redefine common sense.

I'm talking about the latest pronouncements from the so-called 'Canton crowd,' a collection of well-meaning, perhaps, but fundamentally misguided individuals who, if they had their way, would not only redefine the wheel but also mandate that we all ride tricycles backwards, uphill, in the snow.

The particular folly that's caught my attention this go-around? Let's just say it involves a proposal so breathtakingly oblivious to reality, so utterly divorced from the concerns of the average working man and woman, that it makes you wonder if they're holding their town meetings on Mars.

It's not enough anymore to pave roads or ensure our schools are actually educating. Oh no, we're now delving into the hallowed halls of virtue signaling, erecting monuments to whatever ephemeral cause is trending on social media, all on the taxpayer's dime. It’s enough to make you long for the simple days when public service meant, you know, service – not grandstanding.

When I hear about these grand visions, these expensive, performative gestures designed more for the LinkedIn profiles of their proponents than the actual betterment of the community, I find myself yearning for a simpler time.

A time, dare I say it, when if you wanted something done, you either did it yourself or you convinced a neighbor with a beer and a handshake. The kind of time when budgets were balanced, not inflated by line items dedicated to abstract concepts that require a PhD in jargon to even comprehend.

This is where my modest proposal comes in.

Forget all these intricate, convoluted schemes. Forget the endless consultants, the focus groups, the diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives that seem designed primarily to exclude common sense. What we need, my friends, is a reset. A hard reset. I say, let's take the Canton crowd, with their lofty ideals and their aversion to anything resembling practical application, and gently, but firmly, escort them back to the Stone Age.

Imagine, if you will, a world where resources are scarce, where every decision has immediate, tangible consequences.

No endless public funds to burn on whims. No digital echo chambers to reinforce every half-baked idea. Just the cold, hard reality of survival and community. You think they’d be worried about the precise phrasing of an email policy when a saber-toothed tiger is eyeing their dinner? Perhaps a little struggle, a little less comfort, might just remind them what truly matters.

It might, just might, reintroduce them to the concept of priorities, and the idea that a dollar earned is a dollar to be spent wisely, not whimsically.

Of course, I’m being facetious. Mostly. But there’s a kernel of truth in every bit of hyperbole, isn’t there? The truth is, we’ve drifted.

We’ve drifted far from the shores of pragmatism, propelled by a strong current of ideological posturing. The Canton crowd, bless their hearts, are merely symptomatic of a broader malaise that infects our public discourse. They mean well, I suppose, but sometimes meaning well isn't enough when you're spending other people's money on projects that would make a caveman scratch his head.

So, to the good people of Canton, I offer this challenge: step away from the brink.

Re-engage with reality. Look at the balance sheet, not just the headlines. And if that proves too difficult, well, my offer to transport certain elements of your 'crowd' back to the Stone Age remains open. Who knows? They might actually learn something about resourcefulness. And frankly, the rest of us might get a bit more peace and quiet.