Anyone desiring to run for public office, to undergo the kind of scrutiny you have to go through now to be a public servant, to live that lifestyle for more than 9 months, anyone willing to do that really ought to have his or her head examined. Not just sitting on a couch talking about missing your mommy and not getting to going to the circus, not just an MRI or series tests, that’s not going to begin to scratch the surface. Someone with a lot of free time needs to crack open your skull like a walnut and just spend a week seriously investigating your inner brain function and where things went awry.
It goes without saying that I’m starting to get a little exhausted with this political primary season. While from a sensational standpoint this has been the most suspenseful, exciting thing on television in years (don’t know how one can be expected to go back to waiting on episodes of “24” after the drama of Super Tuesday and the debate in Ohio, TV writers must be stressed as hell right now…), my patience is wearing critically thin. Feel on edge lately, like a parent who’s trying not to yell at his kids while company’s over.
My mind is blown at how quick McCain and Clinton have been to pounce on Obama for his “bitter” remarks, what a shamefully gleeful frenzy. Think flesh-eating zombies are more deliberate and gracious in how they feed; these two know nothing of “please” and “thank you” or “pass the salt”, it’s all grunts, elbows, and flying entrails.
To my knowledge, while everyone, including Obama, agrees that he could’ve chosen a better wording, no one of much socio-political significance has really disagreed with what the man said. Yet everywhere I look Clinton and McCain are trying to use the man’s wording to imply everything else he has stood for has been out-of-touch and invalid, almost criminally fraudulent. I try to listen and relate, but sarcasm overtakes me without warning…
“Oooh, say what? He used a word other than ‘hope’ in talking about the American state of mind? You’re right Hilary, that’s definitely worse than telling people you landed in Bosnia under sniper fire. I’m so glad you and Mr. Hundred Years War are here to show us the way, you two are so right. Nothing can change, because to change things you’d first have to say something is wrong and we better not say anything’s wrong or that people aren’t happy, that would be ‘elitist’. Thank goodness you guys are here to protect our interests, you know I can never forget how clear it is that it’s OUR interests that you two really care about most…”
I’m personally embarrassed to see how excited these punch-drunk gladiators are at having finally found a foothold by which they can hope to dispatch their confounding adversary. The rawness of the desperation is palpable and wistfully tragic; it’s like noticing your senile grandfather is wandering around the nursing home with a full-blown erection again; he’s thinking if he puts his bathrobe over it no one will notice, but guess what grandpa? We do notice and we’re all a little sad.
The willingness to say and do anything in the name of winning is probably most disturbing to me. America’s greatest virtue can also be a fatal flaw sometimes; by fostering that I-don’t-lose-no-matter-what quality in people, people become so obsessed with “not losing” they cease being 3-dimensional human beings and instead become hollow embodiments of their goals. What’s the point of reaching the goal if you lose yourself in the process?
I’m so disappointed right now, if Obama ends up being defeated, this should not have been the way he went out, the turning point for a contest of this magnitude can’t be an issue of semantics. How can I respect people who are willing to win that way? This whole ordeal reminds me of those slimy opportunist-type dudes who deliberately build “friendships” with girls who have boyfriends, knowing the whole time they were never interested in any damn friendship. They don’t care about being “friends”, they’re trying to break themselves off a piece of that oh-so-squozable butt, those ooh-just-lookin-at-em-makes-my-hands-hurt breasts. These clowns may come off like friends but they’re really just waiting for homeboy to slip up and get in an argument with babygirl so they can pick up the pieces with that patented Dennis Rodman-quality rebound speech...
“Scranton, I would never hurt you like that. I think you deserve better Pennsylvania. You know you should be with me babygirl, look at how much fun we have. Sleep over? I couldn’t possibly butokIjusthappentohavebroughtaboxofcondomsbutitstotallycoolifyouwannajustspoon… Vote Clinton Babygirl, I’m comfortable being the shoulder to cry on when Sir Galahad turns out not to be perfect…”
My name is Mike and nobody asked my opinion in the first place.
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