Pundits and Forum Whackos

It’s kind of sad how days go by and this space sits waiting to take on the color of my days.  It waits quite a bit now, but not by design.  I haven’t lost interest, though.

Most of the time, I feel like one of those clowns that shows up at a kid’s birthday party who works his ass off and nobody gets it.  Maybe I should start a link train. Or present poorly written content laced with spelling errors about products and information thinking others will actually read it so I can make millions from the page views.

Trick.

I do have quite a bit to say about how obnoxious I find all the pundits backpedaling over McCain’s VP nomination.  You know, Obama doesn’t have experience, but she does.  Blah, blah, blah. I don’t have an issue with “her.”  I have an issue with the extent to which some politicians find voters stupid — women voters in particular.

That they’ll vote for McCain now because he’s got a woman on his ticket who is pro life and eats moose burgers.

And maybe some of them will.

How sad is that?

Very.

Even more sad?  The number of whackos who respond to forums and the disgusting content of their comments regarding race and gender.

And they get to vote.

Right on Day One.

The day has finally arrived. It feels as if I’ve waited forever and think of all that has gone on in this country and the world in the past eight years. Almost a decade with someone in the White House that I believe never should have been there. Ever.

That’s quite a bit of water under the bridge, wouldn’t you say?

I’ve had much on my mind as I’ve watched the candidates line up over the last year and begin their campaigns. It’s been an incredibly long year. Too long. And when I realize that as much as I’ve waited for today to arrive, we still have nearly nine months left to see how big an ass Rush Limbaugh can make of himself over the outcome of the presidential election. Did you hear what he said about John McCain yesterday? O.M.G.

Unbelievable.

He’ll flap all the way to the bank. I’m sure.

In the meantime, I’ve placed my vote in the same garage I’ve been placing it for the past five years since moving to this area of Paradise. The same pleasant people greet me and chat each time.

“How’s business been today?” I asked one of the women. “Busy?”

“No,” she responded, surprising me.

“What’s wrong with this neighborhood?” I teased, knowing what her comeback would be.

“We’ve got over 65% who vote on absentee ballots here!” she smiled. The young man assisting asked me how I’d be voting today because I’m registered as non partisan.

Um. I sort of forgot that I get a bit feisty about this whole choosing sides from time to time and hadn’t remembered changing or when I’d changed. He patiently explained that I could vote Democratic, or N/P, or…

I confessed that I would be voting as a Democrat, just to cut to the chase, grinning as the woman handed me a ballot. I made sure I knew what I was doing because we’ve had umpteen gazillion changes over the past few years about HOW we cast our ballots. Having gone seriously high tech now, we are using a black ink pen and a ballot printed on card stock. No poking, no punching, no scanning, or beeping or page flipping. All I had to do was fill in the bubble.

They continued casual conversation over my shoulder as I scanned my ballot, laughing because more than one of the volunteers had submitted an absentee ballot, and now, as we all know, many names originally on that ballot are no longer present for the primary today.

Interesting…

And more than 65% in our area alone vote absentee ballot? That could prove to be interesting with respect to the Republican votes, so much has changed. We have so many absentee ballots in Paradise, I heard they began to count them very early this morning to get a head start on results.

On the short drive home, I noticed only two campaign posters — one attached to a stop sign and the other a light pole. The Vote for Ron Paul poster seemed out of place here, but anyone’s would. But his posters are the only ones I’ve seen anywhere in the last couple of weeks. Even bumper stickers have been rare. Although I did notice one plastered on the bumper of a Lexus when I was walking the dog yesterday. And then there was that forty-something woman who was standing on the center divide early this morning with a huge homemade sign that encouraged passers by to cast their vote for Obama… And the youger woman outside the mall with a small, but official looking Vote for Hilary sign in one hand hanging next to her side, and a much larger, homemade Obama sign in her other, held high above her head.

Still undecided?

What did Obama say during the debate with Hilary in Hollywood the other night?

“I’m right on Day One.”

And I believe it more than I’ve believed anything in a very long time.

Politics & Paradise: What’s your vote?

*If you want to make a comment, please click on the title of the post…sorry. Don’t know why the comment button at the bottom of the post isn’t functional. I’ll get around to figuring it out after I’m done complaining.*

I’ve been biting my tongue about politics and the various campaigns for the presidency. It isn’t because I don’t have an opinion. Hell will freeze over before I am caught without an opinion, let alone one as important as how the next four to eight years of my life will be influenced. That’s right. When you really get down to business, it’s really all about me.

Just kidding.

But I have been circling my wagons, and keeping an eye on the situation. It’s quite challenging to watch debates like the one CNN aired last night when I was lovingly kneading what would turn out to be a fragrant braid of Finnish Pulla. Does Mitt Romney ever, EVER stop talking? And does he ever NOT have that smirk on his face? I can barely bring myself to listen to anything he says. And when I hear him, I don’t believe any of it.

Remember the old Charlie Brown cartoons on television? When the adults spoke, they sounded like, “Mwha-wah-wha-mwah-wah-ah…”. That would be Mitt for me, except his diatribe is more like, “blahblahblahblahdee-blahdee-blahhhhhhh. Chuckle.” Go ahead and plug your nose, grin like a silly ass and try it. It’s annoying. He’s annoying. His eyes are glittery, which can’t be good. And he’s accomplished at the “he said, she said” junior high school game which doesn’t look good on a man in his position. Wait. Dubyah’s good at it, too.

Ugh. It’s all so depressing. *this is the part where Chicken Little can be heard saying, “The sky is falling…the sky is falling…”*

Not too long ago, NPR was interviewing people about the Republican candidate they’d most likely vote for and why, and more than one woman in the “my age” bracket actually mentioned that at least he “looked presidential,” and that’s why they’d vote for him.

Excuse me?

Don’t you wonder about people who actually don’t have a problem saying things like that for a national audience? Okay, so ANY audience. Oh. My. Gawd.

Or my personal favorite comes from women who state that they vote the way their husbands vote. You know, so they won’t cancel each other out? Huh? They’re kidding, right? As much as one might think these voters could be compared to June Cleaver, I’d say June was a tough mother and most likely had Ward voting her way or else he’d be sleeping with the Beev. Yanno?

more »

Teddy Bears and Food Chains

Could someone out there tell me what is wrong with people who have their heads so wrapped up in their religious identities that they can’t behave in a civilized fashion?  It would certainly help me at least begin to try to understand them.  Or pretend to try and understand them.  Okay, so maybe not.

I’m not one to judge what people believe and why.  Really.  I notice and move on.  I may question it, think about it, maybe even worry about it or roll my eyes a few times. But that’s all. I completely understand that my purpose on this earth is to be a constructive human, and to raise productive humans.  I don’t point fingers, or get too caught up in others’ day-to-day drama. Blogging doesn’t count.

But once in a while, I wonder why there are people who are so consumed with their beliefs they aren’t satisfied until those beliefs are plastered everywhere forcing everyone else to see and know what they stand for — religiously.  I’m not talking about tree huggers here, okay?

I have trouble understanding when said people consumed with their religious beliefs (read men in Sudan and other places, but especially Sudan for this particular point) that they take to the streets calling for the execution of a woman who allowed their children to name a toy.

Surely this warrants an eye for an eye.  (I’m trying to understand here, okay?)

Surely, they have absolutely nothing better to do with their time after they’ve just finished worshiping than to crowd together acting like complete barbarians for the sake of a man who, if alive, would most likely be horrified to know that what he stood for has been so completely distorted.

When events such as this happen, I try to put myself in the position of the one so rudely offended.  I try to find a similar situation where I (or another as noble and understanding as myself, of course) might be equally offended.  Now the first example that comes to mind is the fact that many families from Spain (or countries that were invaded by Spain when it was obsessed with its religious beliefs and killing those who didn’t agree…) traditionally name their male offspring “Jesus.”  Say “Hay-soos” and you’ve got it.  I have heard someone question whether this is “okay” since fair-skinned individuals who are avid believers in Christianity would never name their male children Jesus.  Never.  But that’s a weak example, isn’t it?  Hmmmm…?  Okay, everyone…to the streets!  Such heinous disrespect!

Do they TRULY believe the British teacher should have to face imprisonment, 40 lashes, deportation, or as the learned masses demand — execution?  Really?  Why might the children not understand that this isn’t appropriate?  Might the families be falling down on their religious responsibilities to educate their children about all the truly important dogma they must adhere to in order to become crazed zealots by the time they’re old enough to join a crowd in the streets to call for revenge by violent means?

You know.

To even the score.

Sure.  That should take care of it.

I know somewhere, there’s a connection to the food chain.  Everything has a place on it.  I’m wondering what religious zealots’ place on the chain is.  What their purpose in life is.  Why entire countries and their governments have gotten it all so horribly wrong.

They must not have enough to read.  Not enough to stimulate their intellectual capacity.  Enough to encourage individuality and creativity.  Constructive inspiration.  Freedom.

It’s challenging for me to not acknowledge my intense reaction when I read about events such as this, or watch segments on the news.  My distaste is extreme, and familiar ability to tolerate missing.

I don’t want to understand their reaction.

I don’t feel like I should have to try.

I’m not comfortable with their actions…

…or them.

They’re dangerous.

Edsels, Nexters, and Whining Reporters

I know this constitutes the second politically based commentary I’ve made in a single day, but in the spirit of ranting about “the other side,” I thought, what the hell.

So finally Fred Thompson has officially declared his candidacy for the Presidency. And although that isn’t a surprise, it is a bit humorous that he chose to sit out the debate the other Republican wannabees were elbowing their way to in New Hampshire at about the same time, in what New York Times writer Susan Saluny described as “[providing] himself a pleasant, risk-free forum, safe from potential negativity and tough questioning from reporters, a debate moderator or the public.” Oh, yes, that would be terrifying, wouldn’t it.

Uh…are we whining here that someone isn’t playing by the rules? I think it’s pretty funny. Thompson did it because he could. Period. And why not? I’d want to separate myself from that pack as well. I’ve tried to watch them in previous forums, and I just can’t handle it. They’re all so…insignificant. Unimpressive? Typical. Well, except Romney who looks like he should be doing toothpaste commercials. Or selling Grecian Formula for Men.

The Thompson announcement that ran in our local paper from the Associated Press and The Washington Post included reactions from “some New Hampshire Republicans” who “expressed disappointment, even sounding a bit hurt, that the former U.S. senator from Tennessee didn’t show up.” Being empathetic to the obvious plight those republicans are struggling with (knotted panties), I’m will attempt to put myself in their collective shoes. Somehow it comes out similar to the feeling I imagine one may have if, after being given pre-season football tickets, he arrives at the game to discover that a newly signed and much touted free agent won’t be playing. It doesn’t mean you can’t pick up a newspaper, log on to the Internet, or watch television to find out what will be happening as time goes on.

The fact that the article continues, stating that “curiosity is giving way to skepticism and maybe even cynicism about [Thompson] in part because of how he’s handling his grand entrance” is what bothers me. Cullen, the New Hampshire GOP Chairman has a bit o’ the sour grapes as well, and reminds me of someone who’s reacting to being snubbed by a desirable invited to an afternoon tea. Get over it.

I understand that New Hampshire has this bizarre arrogance about their primary and being “first” for eighteen gazillion years, but how many people live there and vote? More importantly, how many of them are people who watch Jay Leno, are inclined to look up a web site to gather information, and then join forums to discuss what they’re learning?

In case you’ve been wondering whether this means I’m happy that Fred’s hat has been thrown in the ring, think again. I’m more interested at this point in watching the goings on while I sit back and gather my thoughts.

And I’m fascinated by George F. Will’s piece on Ford’s ‘57 Titanic that ran today and the connections I made between what he had to say about an ugly old car and Americans:

Americans are more discerning and less herdable than their cultured despisers suppose, so what matters most is simple. Good products.

Are there any out there? It’s going to be tough to weed through the sludge encased in this spin or that, but I’m gearing up for the challenge. Funny thing, though. There is a whole group of individuals who will just make their decision without getting too worked up about any of it.

PBS’ Judy Woodruff dubbed them “The Nexters” in their broadcast “Generation Next 2.0.” The program documents Nexters’, or “young people between the ages of 16 and 25” “views on life, the future of the country, social activities, technology, and other topics, comparing and contrasting them with previous generations.”

The conclusion drawn was intriguing: that they are somewhat more conservative than their parents.

It’s interesting to see how the younger set’s inclinations with respect to the election are being tracked…Very.

I think I’ll stay tuned. Edsel, anyone?

1958 Ford Edsel courtesy of Television History (www.tvhistory.tv)

Dear Friend…

Do you ever look at your junk mail? No, not in your email — your snail mail. You know, the kind that comes from all those trees. Yes, that junk mail.

Well. In my junk snail mail, I received a letter from Bill Clinton today. It says, “Dear Friend,” and I wondered, why did I open this? I never open things like this. But I was being efficient and sorting through all the crap that fills our tiny mail cubicle, such as “Learn Why You Must Invest in Energy Now!” Okay. Let’s not and say we did. Moving right along.

I read it. The whole thing. The Bill Clinton thing, not the oil investment thing. I’m not sure why, but perhaps it was just to see what Bill had to say. He did always have much to say, right? I was wondering the entire time I was reading who actually wrote it, and how much a gig like that could pay. Does anyone know I’m for sale? Hello?

Bill talks about Hilary, of course. I mean, what’s not to talk about? Her hair, her suits, her social smile. He talks about how Hilary didn’t want to ever run for office (and chickens have lips), but that she went on to do this, and that, and accomplish such and such after this and that failed. You know. Hilary. Is there one, or two l’s in her name? Two? Okay, sorry. Hillary.

“Bill” writes about how she never gave up and how she visited 82 countries representing the U.S. That’s outstanding. And how when she became a Senator, she “immediately went to work on solutions to America’s problems. You know, I get how this whole resume thing works. It’s not like we weren’t watching. And I am wondering…if…maybe…But.

What it all boils down to is that I’m only a zip code to Hilary, and that is a very, very bad thing. Everything I am, I’ve been, I believe and know has been reduced to a specific sequence of numbers printed on an elegantly shaped envelope that smacks of something I’d receive from a friend. You just gotta love those folks who majored in marketing. Or something.

Through “Bill,” Hillary hopes I’ll “take a moment right now to add [my] energy, passion — and, yes, [my] financial support — to Hillary’s remarkable campaign.”

Uh. Nope.

I gave at the office. Besides, I’d have to get a ball gown or something, wouldn’t I? Do they take people in jammies? And who strike a mean key instead of wielding a pen? Probably not.

But it would be interesting to work “side-by-side” with “Bill” in the months ahead to help Hilary — oops, Hillary — change America’s direction…

I’m scratching my head right now, wanting to gear up for the election which is…what? More than a year away? But what’s up with the whole begging for money deal? Have I arrived and nobody told me?

Great.

So that means I’m in Kansas?

Fine. Then where are my red sparkly shoes?