Word of the Day II

          With each passing fall day, his mother followed ebbs and flows emanating from the netroots, a Meissner’s plexus of political spin. As November approached, both certainty and uncertainty seemed concrete, and her anxiety rose exponentially. Trying to ignore the undercurrent of cynicism in election news stories was like holding back a freight train, but at least, she thought, these new forms of mediation did not leave her completely flummoxed.
          Her name was Beth, and she was a member of the banded confederation of groups that stood inexorably for one form or another of ‘conservatism,’ although each grandee fresh to its ranks had an evolved definition of the term. At the gym, she would bandy them about amongst her friends in non sequitur discussions, until words melded into laughter and poking fun at superficialities.
          Her people had their own world wide web, minus the techies and minus the world, for that matter. It was a social network with extreme purpose; they did not shilly shally on the issues that mattered. Business was conducted with comity, undergirded by a fierce resilience – they were not to be put down. For matters of national concern, they learned the party line and how to negotiate it. However, in matters of locality, the group’s gulosity for action was unmatched. Their tenacity was matched by a creative methodology.
          There would be no woolgathering. They would explore any and all solutions, as long as they were working together and continuing to get along.