The daily digest of Twin Cities culture | Secrets of the City

Yesterday, amid news of four ton satellites falling from the heavens and the pending departure of Minnesota's last sports superstar, a glimmering beacon of hope shone from our nation's capital. The House of Representatives, in one brief shining moment of accord, today put aside their rancor for a subject not involving burly men injecting illicit substances into their exquisitely toned buttocks. In our nation's time of need, our elected representatives have pieced together a package that will help ensure we all come through the lean times ahead with a smile and a shiny new iPod.

This nearly $150 billion package not only puts $600 in the hands of nearly every tax-paying, God-fearing citizen in the country, but also provides $300 for those too poor to pay income taxes. Yes, now even the homeless, wild-eyed mental patient wandering Nicollet Mall spraying rapid-fire racial epithets will be able to afford a Nano and still have money left over to load it up with Katt Williams and Michael Richards to freshen up his routine.

Of course, some may say it seems mighty strange that a tax rebate, usually one of the first moves during flush times when the Cristal flows like Champale, is the answer to the anguish caused by the subprime meltdown. But according to our redoubtable leaders in Washington, this is the exact mix of consumer rebates and business tax cuts our economy so desperately needs.

Never mind that it might appear that this bill is being fast tracked to help our elected leaders avoid the appearance of not being a dynamic force for the good of all Americans in an election year. It's not as if we'll be borrowing the money to pay for this package from China, and then immediately spending that money on consumer goods from China, thus dramatically widening the trade deficit and creating an ever-deepening and self-perpetuating spiral of debt and deficit that we'll pass to our grandchildren, who will curse our names and hock loogies at us whilst we tell tales of the good old days, before people were chosen by lottery to fight giant pandas in a grand arena for the amusement of the new Chinese aristocracy.